When we arrived at Accomac, the normally placid river was raging from two days of heavy rain and there was a long line of waiting crossers. Captain Morgan had a hasty conference with the flat-bottom pole boat operators. Money changed hands and we moved to the front of the line at about noon. Though uneventful, each crossing took over an hour and the sun was setting by the time we were back on the turnpike headed for Lancaster. It was nearly midnight when we stopped to bed-down in a farmer’s field for a few hours’ rest just south of Lancaster.

Sunday, July 23rd, 1775: We broke camp at dawn and headed through town on the way to Reading, thirty-five miles up the turnpike. I had hoped to stay in Lancaster long enough to visit the William Henry Rifle factory to visit the man who made my long rifle, but after a brief “sharpshooter show” we were on our way in hopes of making it to Reading before dark.

Monday, July 24th, 1775: Our thirty-five-mile trip to the western banks of the Schuylkill River across from Reading was the toughest hike yet. Though we arrived just as a tiny sliver of moon broke through the clouds overhead, the Captain and Lt. Humphrey convinced the ferry operators to pole us across the now placid stream even though it was well past their usual quitting time. The operators may have been Tories or Quakers because they charged us £3 for their efforts.

Tuesday, July 25th, 1775: Before dawn, while the men were packing up, Capt. Morgan summoned all the officers and sergeants to gather ’round the rear of Wagon #1 where he tacked the maps showing our route from Reading, PA, to Cambridge. Pointing to the map he said, “We’re not quite halfway to Cambridge, ­Massachusetts, which is about 340 miles from here. We’ve been on the road for eleven days. If we’re going to get to General Washington’s Headquarters by the 6th of August—twelve days from now—we’re going to have to average about thirty miles a day. That means no more ‘sharpshooter shows’ for our boys. It also means we may need to buy a couple more draft horses to rotate them in the harnesses. Tell the men. Let’s go.”

Wednesday, July 26th, 1775: Remarkably, we made forty miles yesterday and camped under a moonless, starlit sky for seven hours just south of Bethlehem, Pennsylvania. We were up early again this morning and moving in haste to get across the Delaware River at Easton. The Martin Ferries—six large flat-bottom boats—are the most efficient Ferry Service we have seen yet. By dark we made camp just south of Newtown, NJ, not far from the Sussex County Courthouse where we were quartered at a Trusted ­Courier station.