The Campaign of Trenton 1776-77

XI

THE FLANK MARCH TO PRINCETON

Cadwalader crosses.

The events of the next two days, apart from Washington's own movements, are a real comedy of errors. The firing at Trenton had been distinctly heard at Cadwalader's camp and its reason guessed. Later, rumors of the result threw the camps into the wildest excitement. Bitterly now these men regretted that they had not pushed on to the aid of their comrades. Supposing Washington still to be at Trenton, Cadwalader made a second attempt to cross to his assistance at Bristol on the 27th, when, in fact, Washington was then back in Pennsylvania.[1]

Cadwalader thus put himself into precisely the same situation from which Washington had just hastened to extricate himself. But neither had foreseen the panic which had seized the enemy on hearing of the surprise of Trenton.

At Bordentown.

On getting over the river, Cadwalader learned the true state of things, which placed him in a very awkward dilemma as to what he should do next. As his troops were eager to emulate the brilliant successes of their comrades, he decided, however, to go in search of Donop. He therefore marched up to Burlington the same afternoon. The enemy had left it the day before. He then made a night march to Bordentown, which was also found deserted in haste. Crosswicks, another outpost lying toward Princeton, was next seized by a detachment. That, too, had been hurriedly abandoned. Cadwalader could find nobody to attack or to attack him. The stupefied people only knew that their villages had been suddenly evacuated. In short, the enemy's whole line had been swept away like dead leaves before an autumnal gale, under that one telling blow at Trenton.

Even Washington himself seems not to have realized the full extent of his success until these astonishing reports came in in quick succession. As the elated Americans marched on they saw the inhabitants everywhere pulling down the red rags which had been nailed to their doors, as badges of loyalty. "Jersey will be the most whiggish colony on the continent," writes an officer of this corps of Cadwalader's. "The very Quakers declare for taking up arms."[2]

Trenton reoccupied.

In view of the facts here stated, Washington was strongly urged to secure his hold on West Jersey before the enemy should have time to recover from their panic. The temper of the people seemed to justify the attempt, even with the meagre force at his command. On the 29th he therefore reoccupied Trenton in force. At the same time orders were sent off to McDougall at Morristown, and Heath in the Highlands, to show themselves to the enemy, as if some concerted movement was in progress all along the line.[3]

Princeton reënforced.

Meantime the alarm brought about by Donop's[4] falling back on Princeton caused the commanding officer there to call urgently for reënforcements. None were sent, however, for some days, when the grenadiers and second battalion of guards marched in from New Brunswick. In evidence of the wholesome terror inspired by Washington's daring movements comes the account of the reception of this reënforcement by an eye-witness, Captain Harris, of the grenadiers, who writes of it: "You would have felt too much to be able to express your feelings on seeing with what a warmth of friendship our children, as we call the light-infantry, welcomed us, one and all crying, 'Let them come! Lead us to them, we are sure of being supported.' It gave me a pleasure too fine to attempt expressing."

Howe was now pushing forward all his available troops toward Princeton. Cornwallis hastened back to that place with the élite of the army. While these heavy columns were gathering like a storm-cloud in his front Washington and his generals were haranguing their men, entreating them to stay even for a few weeks longer. Such were the shifts to which the commander-in-chief found himself reduced when in actual presence of this overwhelming force of the enemy.

Washington concentrates.

Through the efforts of their officers most of the New England troops reënlisted for six weeks – Stark's regiment almost to a man.[5] And these battalions constituted the real backbone of subsequent operations. Hearing that the enemy was at least ready to move forward, Cadwalader's and Mifflin's troops were called in to Trenton, and preparations made to receive the attack unflinchingly. This force being all assembled on the 1st of January, 1777, Washington posted it on the east side of the Assanpink, behind the bridge over which Rail's soldiers had made good their retreat on the day of the surprise, with some thirty guns planted in his front to defend the crossing. Washington and Rall had thus suddenly changed places.

His position, Jan. 2, 1777.

The American position was strong except on the right. It being higher ground the artillery commanded the town, the Assanpink was not fordable in front, the bridge was narrow, and the left secured by the Delaware. The weak spot, the right, rested in a wood which was strongly held, and capable of a good defence; but inasmuch as the Assanpink could be forded two or three miles higher up, a movement to the right and rear of the position was greatly to be feared. If successful it would necessarily cut off all retreat, as the Delaware was now impassable.

On the 2d the enemy's advance came upon the American pickets posted outside of Trenton, driving them through the town much in the same manner as they had driven the Hessians. As soon as the enemy came within range, the American artillery drove them back under cover, firing being kept up until dark.

Having thus developed the American position, Cornwallis, astonished at Washington's temerity in taking it, felt sure of "bagging the fox," as he styled it, in the morning.

The night came. The soldiers slept, but Washington, alive to the danger, summoned his generals in council. All were agreed that a battle would be forced upon them with the dawn of day – all that the upper fords could not be defended. And if they were passed, the event of battle would be beyond all doubt disastrous. Cornwallis had only to hold Washington's attention in front while turning his flank. Should, then, the patriot army endeavor to extricate itself by falling back down the river? There seems to have been but one opinion as to the futility of the attempt, inasmuch as there was no stronger position to fall back upon. As a choice of evils, it was much better to remain where they were than be forced into making a disorderly retreat while looking for some other place to fight in.

Who, then, was responsible for putting the army into a position where it could neither fight nor retreat? If neither of these things could be done with any hope of success, there remained, in point of fact, but one alternative, to which the abandonment of the others as naturally led as converging roads to a common centre. In all the history of the war a more dangerous crisis is not to be met with. It is, therefore, incredible that only one man should have seen this avenue of escape, though it may well be that even the boldest generals hesitated to be the first to urge so desperate an undertaking.

Washington's tactics.

In effect, the very danger to which the little army was exposed seems to have suggested to Washington the way out of it. If the enemy could turn his right, why could not he turn their left? If they could cut off his retreat, why could not he threaten their's? This was sublimated audacity, with his little force; but safety here was only to be plucked from the nettle danger. It was then and there that Washington6 proposed making a flank march to Princeton that very night, boldly throwing themselves upon the enemy's communications, defeating such reënforcements as might be found in the way, and perhaps dealing such a blow as would, if successful, baffle all the enemy's plans.

The very audacity of the proposal fell in with the temper of the generals, who now saw the knot cut as by a stroke of genius. This would not be a retreat, but an advance. This could not be imputed to fear, but rather to daring. The proposal was instantly adopted, and the generals repaired to their respective commands.

Jan. 3, 1777.

March to Princeton.

Replenishing the camp fires, and leaving the sentinels at their posts, at one o'clock the army filed off to the right in perfect silence and order. The baggage and some spare artillery were sent off to Burlington, to still further mystify the enemy. By one of those sudden changes of weather, not uncommon even in midwinter, the soft ground had become hard frozen during the early part of the night, so that rapid marching was possible, and rapid marching was the only thing that could save the movement from failure, as Cornwallis would have but twelve miles to march to Washington's seventeen, to overtake them – he by a good road, they by a new and half-worked one. Miles, therefore, counted for much that night, and though many of the men wore rags wrapped about their feet, for want of shoes, and the shoeless artillery horses had to be dragged or pushed along over the slippery places, to prevent their falling, the column pushed on with unflagging energy toward its goal.

British in pursuit.

Shortly after daybreak the British, at Trenton, heard the dull booming of a distant cannonade. Washington, escaped from their snares, was sounding the reveille at Princeton. The British camp awoke and listened. Soon the rumor spread that the American lines were deserted. Drums beat, trumpets sounded, ranks were formed in as great haste as if the enemy were actually in the camps, instead of being at that moment a dozen miles away. Cornwallis, who had gone to bed expecting to make short work of Washington in the morning, saw himself fairly outgeneralled. His rear-guard, his magazines, his baggage, were in danger, his line of retreat cut off. There was not a moment to lose. Exasperated at the thought of what they would say of him in England, he gave the order to press the pursuit to the utmost. The troops took the direct route by Maidenhead to Princeton; and thus, for the second time, Trenton saw itself freed from enemies, once routed, twice disgraced, and thoroughly crestfallen and stripped of their vaunted prestige.

Mercer's fight.

Three British battalions lay at Princeton the night before.[7] Two of them were on the march to Trenton when Washington's troops were discovered approaching on a back road. Astonished at seeing troops coming up from that direction, the leading battalion instantly turned back to meet them. At the same time Washington detached Mercer to seize the main road, while he himself pushed on with the rest of the troops. This movement brought on a spirited combat between Mercer and the strong British battalion, which had just faced about.[8] The fight was short, sharp, and bloody. After a few volleys, the British charged with the bayonet, broke through Mercer's ranks, scattered his men, and even drove back Cadwalader's militia, who were coming up to their support.

Other troops now came up. Washington himself rode in among Mercer's disordered men, calling out to them to turn and face the enemy. It was one of those critical moments when everything must be risked. Like Napoleon pointing his guns at Montereau, the commander momentarily disappeared in the soldier; and excited by the combat raging around him, all the Virginian's native daring flashed out like lightning. Waving his uplifted sword, he pushed his horse into the fire as indifferent to danger as if he had really believed that the bullet which was to kill him was not yet cast.

Taking courage from his presence and example the broken troops re-formed their ranks. The firing grew brisker and brisker. Assailed with fresh spirit, the British, in their turn, gave way, leaving the ground strewed with their dead, in return for their brutal use of the bayonet among the wounded. Finding themselves in danger of being surrounded, that portion of this fighting British regiment[9] which still held together retreated as they could toward Maidenhead, after giving such an example of disciplined against undisciplined valor as won the admiration even of their foes.

While this fight was going on at one point, the second British battalion was, in its turn, met and routed by the American advance, under St. Clair. This battalion then fled toward Brunswick, part of the remaining battalion did the same thing, and part threw themselves into the college building they had used as quarters, where a few cannon shot compelled them to surrender.

Three strong regiments had thus been broken in detail and put to flight. Two had been prevented from joining Cornwallis. Besides the killed and wounded they left two hundred and fifty prisoners behind them. The American loss in officers was, however, very severe. The brave Mercer was mortally wounded, and that gallant son of Delaware, Colonel Haslet, killed fighting at his commander's side.

After a short halt Washington again pushed on toward Brunswick, but tempting as the opportunity of destroying the dépôt there seemed to him, it had to be given up. His troops were too much exhausted, and Cornwallis was now thundering in his rear. When Kingston was reached the army therefore filed off to the left toward[10] Somerset Court House, leaving the enemy to continue his headlong march toward Brunswick, which was not reached until four o'clock in the morning, with troops completely broken down with the rapidity of their fruitless chase.

Washington could now say, "I am as near New York as they are to Philadelphia."

XII

AFTER PRINCETON

It had taken Cornwallis a whole week to drive Washington from Brunswick to Trenton; Washington had now made Cornwallis retrace his steps inside of twenty-four hours. In the retreat through the Jerseys there had been neither strategy nor tactics; nothing but a retreat, pure and simple. In the advance, strategy and tactics had placed the inferior force in the attitude menacing the superior, had saved Philadelphia, and were now in a fair way to recover the Jerseys without the expenditure even of another charge of powder.

While Washington was looking for a vantage ground from which to hold what had been gained, everything on the British line was going to the rear in confusion. Orders and counter orders were being given with a rapidity which invariably accompanies the first moments of a panic, and which tend rather to increase than diminish its effects.

What was passing at Brunswick has fortunately found a record in the diary of a British officer posted there when the news of Washington's coming fell like a bombshell in their camp. It is given word for word:

On the 3d we had repeated accounts that Washington had not only taken Princeton, but was in full march upon Brunswick. General Matthew (commanding at Brunswick) now determined to return to the Raritan landing-place, with everything valuable, to prevent the rebels from destroying the bridge there. We accordingly marched back to the bridge, one-half on one side, the remainder on the other, for its defence, never taking off our accoutrements that night.

On the 3d, Lord Cornwallis, hearing the fate of Princeton, returned to it with his whole force, but found the rebels had abandoned it, upon which he immediately marched back to Brunswick, arriving at break of day on the 4th. I then received orders to return to Sparkstown (Rahway?). Washington marched his army to Morristown and Springfield. At about the time I arrived at Sparkstown, a report was spread that the rebels had some designs upon Elizabethtown and Sparkstown. The whole regiment was jaded to death. Unpleasant this! Before day notice was brought to me by a patrol that he had heard some firing towards Elizabethtown, about seven miles off. I immediately jumped out of bed and directed my drums to beat to arms, as nothing else would have roused my men, they were so tired. Soon after this an express brought me positive orders to march immediately to Perth Amboy, with all my baggage. At between six and seven the rebels fired at some of my men that were quartered at two miles distance. I had before appointed a subaltern's guard for the protection of my baggage. This duty unluckily fell upon the lieutenant of my company, which left it without an officer, the ensign being sick at New York. I immediately directed my lieutenant, who was a volunteer on this occasion, to march with his guard, that was then formed, to the spot where the firing was, while I made all the haste I could to follow him with the battalion.

The lieutenant came up with them and fired upwards of twelve rounds, when, the rebels perceiving the battalion on the march, ran off as fast as they could. Had I pursued them I should perhaps have given a good account of them.

The company baggage-wagon was, however, carried off by the Americans, driver and all. The garrison got to Perth Amboy that night. Elizabethtown was evacuated at the same time. The narrative goes on to say:

The only posts we now possess in the Jerseys are Paulus Hook, Perth Amboy, Raritan Landing, and Brunswick. Happy had it been if at first we had fixed on no other posts in this province… Washington's success in this affair of the surprise of the Hessians has been the cause of this unhappy change in our affairs. It has recruited the rebel army and given them sufficient spirit to undertake a winter campaign. Our misfortune has been that we have held the enemy too cheap. We must remove the seat of war from the Jerseys now on account of the scarcity of forage and provisions.

The writer shows the wholesome impressions his friends were under in this closing remark: "The whole garrison is every morning under arms at five o'clock to be ready for the scoundrels."

In New York great pains were taken to prevent the truth about the victories at Trenton and Princeton from getting abroad. False accounts of them were printed in the newspapers, over which a strict military censorship was established; but in spite of every precaution enough leaked out through secret channels to put new life and hope in the hearts and minds of the long-suffering prisoners of war.

It was one of the misfortunes of this most extraordinary campaign that every blow Washington had struck left his army exhausted. After each success it was necessary to recuperate. It was now being reorganized in the shelter of its mountain fastness, strengthened by a simultaneous uprising of the people, who now took the redress of their wrongs into their own hands. No foraging party could show itself without being attacked; no supplies be had except at the point of the sword. A host of the exasperated yeomanry constantly hovered around the enemy's advanced posts, which a feeling of pride alone induced him to hold. Putnam was ordered up to Princeton, Heath to King's Bridge, so that Howe was kept looking all ways at once. Redoubts were thrown up at New Brunswick, leading Wayne to remark that the Americans had now thrown away the spade and the British taken it up. Looking back over the weary months of disaster the change on the face of affairs seems almost too great for belief. From the British point of view the campaign had ended in utter failure and disgrace. In England, Edward Gibbon says that the Americans had almost lost the name of rebels, and in America Sir William Howe found that he had to contend with a man in every way his superior.

1

As will be seen farther on, New England had no strategic value in this relation.

2

Continentals.This term, for want of a better, arose from the practice of speaking of the colonies, as a whole, as the Continent, to distinguish them from this or that one, separately.

4

General Lee had been sent to New York as early as January. He took military possession of the city, with militia furnished by Connecticut.

5

In a private letter General Knox indignantly styles it "this rabble army."

6

"Being fully persuaded that it would be presumption to draw out our young troops into open ground against their superiors, both in numbers and discipline, I have never spared the spade and pickaxe." —Letters.

1

These were Poor's, Patterson's, Greaton's, and Bond's Massachusetts regiments on April 21, two New Jersey, two Pennsylvania, and two New Hampshire battalions on the 26th. See Burgoyne's Invasion of this series for an account of the Canada campaign.

2

The numbers are estimated by General Heath (Memoirs, p. 51) as high as 40,000. He, however, deducts 10,000 for the sick, present. They were published long after any reason for exaggeration existed.

3

The Brooklyn lines ran from Wallabout Bay (Navy Yard) on the left, to Gowanus Creek on the right, making a circuit of a mile and a half. All are now in the heart of the city.

4

King's Bridge was so named for William III., of England. It crosses Spuyten Duyvil Creek. The bridge at Morrisania was not built until 1796.

5

Fort Washington stood at the present 183d street. Besides defending the approaches from King's Bridge, it also obstructed the passage of the enemy's ships up the Hudson, at its narrowest point below the Highlands. At the same time Fort Lee, first called Fort Constitution, was built on the brow of the lofty Palisades, opposite, and a number of pontoons filled with stones were sunk in the river between. The enemy's ships ran the blockade, however, with impunity.

1

This range of hills includes the present Prospect Park and Greenwood Cemetery.

2

This weak point was the approach from the east where the Jamaica road crossed the hills into Bedford village. By striking this road somewhat higher up, the enemy got to Bedford before the Americans, guarding the hills beyond, had notice of their approach.