To appreciate the full significance of what has been described in the preceding pages, follow the campaign in outline to its closing scenes.

Thus far the American army had met with nothing but defeat, retreat, sacrifice, hardship, and discouragement. First came the months of preparation, with England straining every nerve to conquer the colonies; then the first and disastrous collision on Long Island, on which so much depended; then the retreat, the loss of New York, the withdrawal to White Plains, and a battle which was not a victory for the Americans; and, finally, the heavy blow struck in the fall of Fort Washington. Much had been endured and learned alike by general and private soldier during these gloomy months, and both were now destined to profit by the trial. All this faith and patience had its legitimate reward, as we shall find if we now place ourselves in the last days of the year upon the banks of the Delaware.

What had occurred in the mean time was the evacuation of Fort Lee, a hasty retreat through New Jersey, the dwindling away of the army, the advance of the British towards Philadelphia, the removal of Congress to Baltimore, and an increase of despondency throughout the country. Washington with the remnants of his army had taken post on the right bank of the Delaware, and, still strong in hope, was calling for militia to come to his assistance. At the same time he watched the opportunity to inflict upon the enemy some happy counter-stroke that might temporarily raise the spirits of his soldiers and the people. The opportunity came. The British delayed crossing the Delaware, and divided their force among different posts throughout New Jersey. At Trenton they stationed Colonel Rall with a body twelve hundred strong, composed chiefly of Hessians. This was the Rall who marched up with De Heister on Long Island, and figured in the capture of prisoners, who afterwards turned our right on Chatterton’s Hill, at White Plains, and whose attack on Rawlings at Fort Washington was the brilliant feature of that day. He was every inch a soldier, except in possessing that reserve of caution which every commander is bound to exercise in the presence of an enemy, however remote the probability of an attack. Rall despised Washington’s troops, and would throw up no intrenchments around Trenton.

Washington resolved to make a sudden dash upon this Hessian. A surprise, an irresistible attack, the capture of a post with a thousand men, might work wonders in their moral effect. The soldiers with him were trusty men, twenty-four hundred of whom he proposed to lead himself on this enterprise. Many of the regiments we have already become familiar with, and their leaders are men who have led them from the first. Here are Greene, Sullivan, Stirling, Mercer, Glover, and Sargent, for division and brigade commanders; and with them we meet new officers Brigadier-Generals Adam Stephen, of Virginia; Arthur St. Clair, of Pennsylvania, and De Fermoy, a French officer, lately commissioned by Congress. Here also are Hand’s battalion, parts of Smallwood’s and Haslet’s, Knox and his artillerymen, Durkee’s, Charles Webb’s, Ward’s, and parts of Chester’s and Bradley’s, from Connecticut; Sargent’s, Glover’s, Hutchinson’s, Baldwin’s, Shepherd’s, Bailey’s, and Paterson’s, of Massachusetts; Stark’s, Poor’s, and Reed’s, from New Hampshire, who, with Paterson’s, have just arrived in camp from Ticonderoga; the remnants of McDougall’s and Ritzema’s New York Continentals, and Weedon’s, Scott’s, Elliot’s, Buckner’s, and Reed’s Virginians. How depleted are these battalions, many of them less than a hundred strong!

Washington’s plan included a simultaneous move from several points. The body he was to lead was concentrated, on the night of December 24th, at McConkey’s Ferry, nine miles above Trenton. The troops were to cross at night, reach the town at dawn, and take its garrison by surprise. Lower down were two other bodies of troops. About opposite Trenton, General Ewing was posted with Pennsylvania militia and Nixon’s Continental brigade, now commanded by Colonel Daniel Hitchcock, of Rhode Island. At Bristol, General Cadwallader commanded still another corps of Pennsylvanians, including many young men from the best families in Philadelphia. Ewing and Cadwallader were to cross and intercept the retreat of the Hessians from Trenton, or prevent Donop at Burlington from affording relief. Putnam was to make a demonstration from Philadelphia.

To his own force Washington issued minute and stringent orders. The troops he divided into two divisions, giving Sullivan the first, and Greene the second. Sullivan’s brigades were Glover’s, Sargent’s, and St. Clair’s; Greene’s were Stephen’s, Mercer’s, and Stirling’s. De Fermoy was to follow in Greene’s rear with Hand’s riflemen and Hausegger’s German battalion from Pennsylvania. To each brigade were attached from two to four pieces of artillery, eighteen guns in all, under Knox. Greene’s division was to cross first, Stephen’s in advance, provided with spikes and hammers to spike the enemy’s guns, and with ropes to drag them off if that proved feasible. After the crossing, Captain Washington, of the Third Virginia, was to proceed with a guard on the road towards Trenton, and halt and detain any one who might be passing in either direction. Three miles from the ferry the road branched, making two lines of approach to the town. Greene’s division was to take the upper road; Sullivan’s the lower one near the river. Stirling’s and St. Clair’s brigades were to act as reserves for their respective columns, and in case of necessity were to form separately or join forces, as the emergency required. The officers set their watches by Washington’s. Profound silence was enjoined. Not a man to leave the ranks, read the orders, under penalty of death.

The night of the 24th brought storm, snow, and sleet. Ewing and Cadwallader could do nothing on account of the ice in the river. But Washington was determined on the attempt. He called upon Glover’s men to man the boats; and these amphibious soldiers, who had transported the army on the retreat from Long Island, were ready again to strain every nerve for the plans of their chief. It was a long, tedious night as they pushed across the Delaware, through ice and chilling spray, and it was not until four o’clock in the morning that the force was ready to take up the march on the Jersey side. They could not surprise the Hessians before daylight, but a return was not to be thought of. The troops then marched on in the worst weather that could be encountered. “As violent a storm ensued of Hail & Snow as I ever felt,” wrote Captain William Hull, of Webb’s Continentals. The river was crossed, says Knox, “with almost infinite difficulty,” the floating ice making the labor incredible. Fortunately the storm was against our backs, “and consequently in the faces of our enemy.” The march was kept up swiftly and quietly. In Sullivan’s column some of the soldiers could not cover their muskets from the wet, and word was sent to Washington of the unfitness of their arms. Washington promptly sent word back by his aid, Lieutenant-Colonel Samuel B. Webb, that if the men could not discharge their pieces they must use the bayonet, for the town must be taken.

At eight o’clock the two columns neared the enemy’s outposts Sullivan striking them on the lower road but three minutes after Greene on the upper one. Greene’s van was led by Captain Washington and Lieutenant James Monroe, the future President; Sullivan’s by Stark’s New Hampshire men. Surprising the Hessian outguards, our troops dashed after them “pell-mell” into Trenton, gave the enemy no time to form, cleared the streets with cannon and howitzers “in the twinkling of an eye,” under Washington’s own direction, dislodged them from the houses, drove them beyond into a plain, surrounded and forced them to surrender, with the loss of their commander Rall, who fell mortally wounded. A fine and remarkable exploit! The turning-point of the campaign if not, indeed, the decisive stroke of the war! Gathering up their nine hundred and fifty prisoners, six brass field-pieces, standards, horses, and “a vast quantity of Plunder,” the Americans marched back again, having lost not a man killed, and hardly more than two or three wounded.

In General Orders next day, Washington congratulated his soldiers in the warmest terms. He had been in many actions, in all of which he had seen misbehavior on the part of some; but at Trenton, he told them their conduct was admirable, without exception. Among others he thanked Knox for his services in terms “strong and polite.” “Providence seemed to have smiled upon every part of this enterprise.” “What can’t men do,” said Hull, “when engaged in so noble a cause!” “That victory,” writes Bancroft, “turned the shadow of death into the morning.”

One more encounter with the enemy, one more success, and the campaign closes with final victory assured for America.

Convinced that inaction would be as demoralizing as defeat, Washington once more determined to try his fortunes in New Jersey, and at once prepared again “to beat up” the enemy’s quarters. Crossing the Delaware as before, he marched on the 30th to Trenton, which the British had not reoccupied since Christmas. Hearing of this move, Cornwallis at Princeton gathered a force of seven thousand veterans, and on the 2d of January started for Trenton. Washington sent out detachments, and delayed his entry into the town until evening. At nightfall he took up position on the east bank of the Assanpink Creek, which ran along the east edge of the town and emptied into the Delaware. The British pursued our troops to the bridge, but were there repulsed by Knox’s artillery. Cornwallis rested at Trenton, sent off for reinforcements, and expected the next morning to cross the Assanpink at the bridge or the fords above, and bring Washington to an engagement. Obviously the Americans were in a hazardous position. Should the British drive them back, there was no escape, for the Delaware flowed in their rear. They must save themselves that night. A council of war was called, and the situation discussed. From Trenton to Princeton ran a second roundabout road east of the main highway, along which Cornwallis had marched, and which it was possible for the Americans to take, and put themselves in the rear of Cornwallis, with lines of retreat open beyond to Morristown and the back country. Washington proposed escape by this route, and the council seconded him. Orders for a secret night march were given to the officers, and the regiments were silently withdrawn from their posts along the Assanpink, and set in motion along this back road towards Princeton. The camp-fires on the banks of the creek were kept up by guards left behind for the purpose. Nothing occurred to excite suspicion of the movement in the minds of the British sentinels, nearly within musket-shot on the opposite bank.

Washington’s troops reached a point within two miles of Princeton about sunrise. The main column pushed on for the village, while Mercer’s brigade, consisting of the remnants of Haslet’s Delawares, Smallwood’s Marylanders, and the First Virginia regiment under Captain Fleming, turned to the left to break down a bridge on the main road over Stony Creek, which the enemy would have to cross on returning from Trenton, in pursuit of Washington.

Three British regiments had been left at Princeton by Cornwallis, but were now, on the morning of the 3d, proceeding under orders to join him. These were the Fifty-fifth, the Fortieth, and Seventeenth, the latter commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Mawhood. Mawhood was a mile in advance of the others, and had just crossed the Stony Creek bridge, when, looking across the country to his left and rear, he discovered Mercer’s party on its march. Surprised at the appearance of a force of rebels where he least expected to see one, Mawhood, nevertheless, with a soldier’s instinct, promptly wheeled about and proceeded to attack Mercer. They met on a hill and exchanged fire, when Mawhood ordered a bayonet charge, and put the Americans to rout. Mercer, on horseback, attempted in vain to rally his men, and was mortally wounded with bayonet thrusts. Haslet, gallantly fighting on foot, and also trying to form the broken brigade, fell dead with a bullet wound in his forehead. Captain Fleming, of Virginia, suffered a like fate, as well as Captain Neal of the artillery. This sudden and serious reverse required instant attention, for Washington could not afford to be detained long in this position. Cadwallader’s brigade, which had followed Mercer’s, was accordingly brought up into line, while Washington attempted to rally the latter’s force; but Mawhood was making a surprising fight, and he threw Cadwallader’s militiamen into confusion as he had Mercer’s. Matters now were worse, and the commander-in-chief made strenuous exertions, at great personal hazard, to bring the troops into some order. Meanwhile, he sent word for Hitchcock’s brigade to advance upon the enemy, while Hand’s riflemen endeavored to turn their left. The “gallant Hitchcock” promptly took his command into action all that remained of it, five regiments together hardly five hundred strong and formed in line. On the right was Lieutenant-Colonel Nixon, next Varnum’s battalion, under Lieutenant-Colonel Crary, in the centre Colonel Lippett, with the largest number, one hundred and twenty-eight men, next Hitchcock’s, under Major Angell, and on the left Little’s battalion, under Lieutenant-Colonel Henshaw. They opened fire at one hundred yards, and then, in conjunction with Cadwallader’s men, whom Washington had rallied in part, they rushed upon Mawhood’s force, recaptured the two guns we had lost, and joined in putting the enemy completely to rout.

No doubt these old troops experienced a glow of satisfaction over this brief and final work of the campaign, for they had endured hard service from the outset. Here was Greene’s old brigade, which crossed with him to Long Island on the 1st of May Varnum’s, Hitchcock’s, Little’s, and, by a happy accident, Hand’s, on the left to assist in reversing the record of the year. These men had built the lines around Brooklyn; Hitchcock’s and Little’s at the Flatbush Pass had been caught and all but captured in the surprise of August 27th; they fought manfully, and suffered the most at Harlem Heights; many of them responded to Washington’s appeal to remain six weeks beyond their term of service, and now they had shared in the successful manoeuvre at Princeton, which changed the whole aspect of affairs.

Hitchcock, who had temporarily succeeded Nixon in command of the brigade, received the thanks of Washington for himself and for his men in front of Princeton College for their aid and conduct in the action. But the colonel, a brilliant, promising officer, whose regiment built and guarded Fort Putnam in Brooklyn, was destined to only a brief career henceforth. Overcome by the fatigue and hardships of the campaign, he died in camp at Morristown, on the 13th of January, and was buried by the Philadelphia and Delaware Light Infantry companies, under Rodney, with all the honors of war. It was a fitting escort to the remains of the brave soldier, for Rodney and most of his men had behaved well at Princeton.

Sullivan’s troops drove the other two British regiments out of Princeton towards Brunswick, and Washington’s tired army then pushed on, and on the 6th went into camp at Morristown.

The effect of these two unexpected strokes at Trenton and Princeton was to baffle Howe, and utterly disconcert his plans. Expecting to march upon Philadelphia at his leisure, he suddenly finds Washington turning about and literally cutting his way through the British posts, back to a point where he threatened Howe’s flank and rear. The enemy were at once compelled to retire from all their positions below Brunswick, give up the thought of wintering in Philadelphia, and fall back to the vicinity of New York. When Horace Walpole heard of these movements, he wrote to Sir Horace Mann: “Washington has shown himself both a Fabius and a Camillus. His march through our lines is allowed to have been a prodigy of generalship. In one word, I look upon a great part of America as lost to this country."

Here the campaign closed. Washington could not be dislodged from his strong mountain position, and Howe was satisfied to rest his troops and postpone further operations until the next season. Meantime the country took heart, Congress voted troops and supplies, and the army was recruited and organized on a better basis. “The business of war is the result of Experience,” wrote Wolcott from Congress, with faith unshaken during the darkest hours of the campaign; and experience was now put to good profit.

The crisis was passed. Events proved decisive. Hardship and anxiety were yet to come during succeeding years of the war; but it was the result of this year’s struggle that cleared away misgivings and confirmed the popular faith in final success. England could do no more than she had done to conquer America; while America was now more ready than ever to meet the issue. Independence was established in the present campaign in the year of its declaration; and more than to any others we owe this political privilege to the men who fought from Long Island to Princeton.