BATTLES OF TRENTON AND PRINCETON.

Washington was so anxious for the safety of Philadelphia, that he appointed General Putnam to command the post, with instructions to fortify the city at once. At the same time he advised Congress to remove to Baltimore; and that body, after hastily completing the business before them, adjourned to meet in the latter city on the 20th of December.

By this time his army numbered about five thousand available men. One thousand militia from New Jersey, and fifteen hundred from Pennsylvania, with five hundred Germans from the latter State, was a very encouraging increase of his worn and wasted army. Then he had word that General Gates was coming on with seven regiments detached by Schuyler from the northern department. Washington was hopeful again, and began to plan an attack upon the enemy.

Before Congress adjourned to meet at Baltimore, they clothed Washington with unusual powers. They voted:

“Until Congress orders otherwise, General Washington shall be possessed of all power to order and direct all things relative to the department and to the operations of war.”

In the days of ancient Rome, such power would have constituted him a military dictator. It was conferred in answer to a remarkable communication from Washington himself, one of the most able, practical, and faithful public documents extant, in which he said:

“It may be thought that I am going a good deal out of the line of my duty to adopt these measures or advise thus freely. A character to lose, an estate to forfeit, the inestimable blessings of liberty at stake, and a life devoted, must be my excuse.”

Washington immediately recruited three battalions of artillery. He promised those whose time of enlistment had expired an increase of twenty-five per cent to their pay if they would remain, and ten dollars bounty for six weeks’ service. “It is no time to stand upon expense,” he said.

On the 20th of December, General Sullivan arrived with Lee’s army. The men were in a bad plight, many of them sick and exhausted, others ragged and desponding. On the same day, also, General Gates arrived with the remnants of four regiments from the Northern army.

“Now is our time to strike a blow that shall put heart into the friends of our cause,” said Washington to General Greene.

“I am at your service in any enterprise that will do that,” answered Greene. “Explain.”

“I propose an immediate attack upon the enemy,” said Washington.

“Well, there is no cowardice in that proposition,” remarked Greene. “To recross the Delaware that is filled with ice, and attack the enemy in his own camp, this wintry weather, is worthy of the commander-in-chief of the American army.”

“Howe has gone into winter quarters in New York,” continued Washington. “His troops are scattered about loosely, because he thinks the rebel army is powerless. Cornwallis has left our front, and returned to New York. The Hessians are stationed along the Delaware, facing us, and are thinking more of a good time, probably, in this Christmas season, than they are of us. It is a good time to surprise them.”

“Perhaps so,” answered Greene. “How about crossing the river with so much floating ice in it?”

“That is not an insuperable barrier,” replied Washington. “Besides, if we wait until the river is frozen over, the enemy will surprise us.

“You are resolved to attack them?” added Greene.

“Yes, on the 25th, which is close by.”

General Greene and the other officers entered into the plan with all their hearts, as soon as they fully comprehended it. The night of the 25th was the earliest moment the army could move. The intervening time would be required for preparation.

A good chance to avenge the loss of Fort Washington, and the wrongs inflicted upon the people of Jersey by the Hessians, remarked General Greene to his command. The Hessians had been reckless and destructive in their march through the Jerseys.

“Miserable hirelings, these Hessians!” exclaimed Major Wilkinson, by way of stirring up the soldiers to crave an attack upon them. “Such wretches, fighting us for mere pay, without caring whether liberty or slavery reigns, deserve to be shot.”

The night of the 25th was a boisterous one. A storm was coming on, and the Delaware rolled tempestuously. But, undismayed, Washington ordered the army to move at dark. He crossed the Delaware nine miles above Trenton, where there were fifteen hundred Hessians and a troop of British light-horse, to march down upon the town. General Ewing, with his force, was to have crossed a mile below the town, but was prevented by the quantity of ice. General Putnam, with the troops occupied in fortifying Philadelphia, crossed below Burlington.

When Washington was ready to march, after crossing the river, a furious storm of snow and sleet began to beat in the faces of the troops, to impede their progress. It was eight o’clock before the head of the column reached the village. Seeing a man chopping wood, Washington inquired:

“Which way is the Hessian picket?”

“I don’t know,” the man replied.

“You may tell,” said Captain Forest of the artillery, “for that is General Washington.”

The man changed his aspect instantly. Raising both hands heavenward, he exclaimed:

“God bless and prosper you!”

Then pointing to a house, he said:

“The picket is in that house, and the sentry stands near that tree.”

Rising in his stirrups, and waving his sword in the air, Washington addressed his troops: “There, boys, are the enemies of your country! All I ask of you is to remember what you are about to fight for! March!”

Soon the battle began. It was a complete surprise to the foe. They rallied at first, and undertook to make a stand, but were unable to breast the storm of shot that beat into their very faces. The British light-horse fled from the town, together with other troops, none of which could have escaped if General Ewing and General Cadwalader had been able to cross the river, and cooperate with Washington, according to his plan. They were to guard the only way of retreat open to the enemy.

The battle was short and decisive. Many Hessians were killed, and their brave commander, Colonel Rahl, fell mortally wounded. He was conveyed carefully to the house of a Quaker lady, where General Washington paid him a visit before leaving town.

“The misfortunes of war are to be deplored,” remarked Washington, taking the dying man by the hand, and expressing his sympathy for him.

“Death is preferable to life with this dishonor,” answered Rahl.

Washington spoke in praise of the bravery of his men, to which Rahl replied, though he was really suffering the agony of death:

“I entreat you, General Washington, not to take anything from my men but their arms.

“I will not,” answered Washington; and he kept the promise.

Washington took about a thousand prisoners in this battle, including thirty-two officers. His seizure of artillery and stores, also, was quite large. With prisoners and stores he recrossed the Delaware to his camp.

The fame of this brilliant exploit spread from town to town, reviving the despondent hopes of the many in sympathy with the American cause.

Despatches from Cadwalader and Reed assured Washington that the British army, fleeing from Trenton, had spread consternation everywhere among the enemy. Trenton, Bordentown, and other places were deserted by the foe, who, panic-stricken by the victory of Washington, fled in confusion.

Washington saw that now was his time to drive the British from the Jerseys. He sent to Generals McDougall and Maxwell at Morristown, ordering them to collect as large a force of militia as possible, and harass the retreating enemy in the rear. He wrote to General Heath, also, to come down at once from the Highlands, with the eastern militia; and he despatched gentlemen of influence in different directions, to arouse the militia to revenge the wrongs inflicted upon the people by the Hessians. He said:

“If what they have suffered does not rouse their resentment, they must not possess the feelings of humanity.”

On the 29th of December, Washington crossed the Delaware again with a portion of his troops, though two days were consumed in the passage of all of them, on account of the ice and boisterous weather. A portion of his troops were expecting to go home at the end of the month, as the term of their enlistment expired; but Washington drew them up in line, and addressed them, appealing to their patriotism, inviting them to re-enlist, and offering them ten dollars bounty for six weeks’ service. Most of them remained.

Taking advantage of the power vested in him, the commander-in-chief wrote to Robert Morris, “the patriot financier at Philadelphia,” pleading for hard money to meet the emergency.

“If you could possibly collect a sum, if it were but one hundred or one hundred and fifty pounds, it would be of service.”

Scarce as hard money was, Morris obtained the amount of a wealthy Quaker, and forwarded it to Washington by express the next morning.

After the victory at Trenton, Congress, in session at Baltimore, took additional action to invest Washington with all necessary powers; and that body said, in their communication to him:

“Happy is it for this country that the general of their forces can safely be entrusted with the most unlimited power, and neither personal security, liberty, or property, be in the least degree endangered thereby.”

As soon as the news of the capture of the Hessians at Trenton reached New York, General Howe hurried Cornwallis off to Princeton, where about eight thousand of his army were wintering, with instructions to attack Washington. On the second day of January, 1777, the latter posted his troops on the east side of a small stream, the Assumpink, learning that Cornwallis was marching upon him. About mid-day Cornwallis approached with five or six thousand troops, and attempted to cross the river; but the Americans repulsed him. The engagement continued until dark, when Cornwallis proposed to cease hostilities and rest until morning.

“Nay,” said Sir William Erskine; “now is your time to make sure of Washington.”

“Oh, no!” replied Cornwallis; “our troops are fatigued and need rest. The old fox can’t make his escape now; for, with the Delaware behind him, so filled with floating ice that he cannot cross, we have him completely surrounded. To-morrow morning, fresh and strong, we will fall upon him, and take him and his rag-a-muffins all at once!”

“Ah, my lord!” rejoined Sir William, “if Washington be the soldier that I think he is, you will not see him there to-morrow morning.”

The escape of the American army seemed impossible. With a superior force of the British in front, well armed and fresh, and the impossibility of recrossing the Delaware, together with deep mud in the roads, the capture of Washington, to human view, seemed inevitable.

Early in the evening Washington conceived the idea of making a forced march to Princeton during the night, to capture the enemy’s stores there, and then push on to Brunswick for additional booty. But then the mud was so deep that such a march would not be possible. While he was thus revolving the matter, the wind suddenly shifted, the clouds broke, and freezing cold weather set in, so that within two hours the ground became solid, and the army could move. Again God proved to the astonished commander-in-chief that He was not always “on the side of the heaviest battalions.

Stirring up his camp-fire anew, and setting a score of shovellers to work within hearing distance of the foe, to deceive him, Washington moved off as quietly as possible to Princeton with his army. There he met a force Cornwallis had left behind, and a desperate battle followed, in which the Americans were victorious.

At first Colonel Mawhoods celebrated regiment charged upon the advance of the American army, driving them back in confusion. But Washington, ever ready for such an emergency, rode to the front, brandishing his sword, and calling upon his men to follow. Placing himself in front, directly facing the foe, he stopped for a moment, as if to say to his army, Will you suffer the enemy to shoot your general? They could not resist the appeal, and with a yell they turned and dashed forward, with irresistible might, driving all before them, and the victory was theirs.

Colonel Fitzgerald, one of Washington’s aides, was so affected by his commander’s daring, that he dropped the reins on his horse’s neck and drew his cap over his eyes, that he might not see him shot from his horse. While waiting in this agony of suspense, a shout of triumph rent the air.

“The British are running!”

“The victory is ours!”

The air was rent with the shouts of the victors.

Lifting his cap, and looking for his loved commander, he beheld him, as the smoke of the battle cleared, safe and unharmed, waving his hat and cheering his soldiers on to pursue the foe. Bursting into tears for very joy, he spurred his horse to Washington’s side, and exclaimed:

“Thank God, your excellency is safe!”

Grasping the colonel’s hand in gladness, Washington answered:

“Away, my dear colonel, and bring up the troops. THE DAY IS OUR OWN!”

When Cornwallis awoke in the early dawn, he found that his “fox” had escaped.

“That is just what I feared,” said Sir William Erskine.

“Where can he have gone?” Cornwallis inquired, almost bewildered by the unexpected revelation.

Just then booming cannon in the distance explained.

“There!” exclaimed Sir William; “There is Washington now, cutting up our troops!”

“Capturing our stores at Brunswick!” shouted Cornwallis in reply, as he took in the situation, and thought what a haul the rebel general would make in capturing the seventy thousand pounds in money, and the vast quantity of arms, ammunition, and stores at Brunswick.

Almost franticly he dashed about to hurry his Army away to the latter place, where he arrived to find everything safe, and himself outwitted again.

The battle of Princeton, though short, was a costly one to the Americans. One general, two colonels, one major, and three captains were killed. From twenty to thirty others were killed and wounded. The British lost one hundred killed and wounded, and three hundred prisoners.

The American general slain was Mercer, whom Washington called “the worthy and brave General Mercer.” Early in the conflict his horse was shot under him, and on foot he was attempting to rally his men, when a blow from the butt of a British musket felled him to the ground.

“Call for quarters, you mean rebel!” shouted a British officer.

“I am not a rebel,” retorted Mercer; “I am a true soldier of liberty, fighting for his country;” and, as he spoke he thrust his sword at the nearest man.

Then he was bayoneted, and left for dead. He was subsequently borne to the house of a Mr. Clark, where he was nursed until he died, a few days thereafter. Washington supposed that he was killed on the field, until he was on his way to Morristown. On learning that he was still alive, he despatched Major George Lewis with a flag and letter to Cornwallis, requesting that the bearer be allowed to remain with, and nurse, the wounded general. A few days afterwards, Mercer died in the arms of Lewis.

The story spread in the American army that the British bayoneted General Mercer after he gave up his sword. But he said to Major Lewis, who inquired about it: “The tale which you have heard, George, is untrue. My death is owing to myself. I was on foot endeavoring to rally my men, who had given way before the superior discipline of the enemy, when I was brought to the ground by a blow from a musket. At the same moment the enemy discovered my rank, exulted in their having taken the rebel general, as they termed me, and bid me ask for quarters. I felt that I deserved not so opprobrious an epithet, and determined to die, as I had lived, an honored soldier in a just and righteous cause; and without begging my life or making reply, I lunged with my sword at the nearest man. They then bayoneted and left me.”

Washington did not pursue the enemy far, nor push on to Brunswick. Most of his troops had been two days and nights without sleep, and they were completely exhausted, so that further engagements without rest were preposterous. He determined to go into winter quarters at Morristown, and marched directly to that place. Stopping at Pluckamin to rest his soldiers for a short time, he wrote to General Putnam:

“The enemy appear to be panic-struck. I am in hopes of driving them out of the Jerseys. Keep a strict watch upon the enemy. A number of horsemen, in the dress of the country, must be kept constantly going backward and forward for this purpose.”

Occupying the mountainous region of Morristown, and reinforcing his little army, he harassed the enemy to such an extent that Cornwallis was forced to draw in all his out-posts, so that his land communication with New York was completely cut off.

Hamilton wrote: “The extraordinary spectacle was presented of a powerful army, straitened within narrow limits by the phantom of a military force, and never permitted to transgress those limits with impunity.”

The British were driven out of the Jerseys at every point except Amboy and Brunswick, and the remarkable exploit awakened the wonder, and admiration of even our enemies. Everywhere that the achievements of Washington, from De, 1776, to Ja, 1777, were made known, his fame was greatly augmented. No such bold and glorious deeds could be found in the annals of military renown. This was the verdict of the country; and from that moment the American cause grew stronger.

From that day to this the battles of Trenton and Princeton, including the crossing and recrossing of the Delaware, have been accorded the brightest pages of history by writers of every age. It is said that Frederick the Great of Prussia declared that the deeds of Washington, in the ten days specified, “were the most brilliant of any in the annals of military achievements.

The Italian historian, Botta, wrote:

“Achievements so stirring gained for the American commander a very great reputation, and were regarded with wonder by all nations, as well as by the Americans. The prudence, constancy, and noble intrepidity of Washington were admired and applauded by all. By unanimous consent, he was declared to be the saviour of his country; all proclaimed him equal to the most renowned commanders of antiquity, and especially distinguished him by the name of the ‘American Fabius.’ His name was in the mouths of all; he was celebrated by the pens of the most distinguished writers. The most illustrious personages of Europe lavished upon him their praises and their congratulations.

Washington continued in his winter quarters at Morristown until near the close of May. Learning that a British fleet of a hundred transports, bearing eighteen thousand soldiers, had sailed from New York, and suspecting that Philadelphia was the place of its destination, he broke up his camp and marched toward that city. His whole force was but seven thousand three hundred men.

While encamped at Morristown, Washington found that the Lord’s Supper would be celebrated by the Presbyterian Church on a certain Sabbath. He called upon the pastor, Dr. Johns, and inquired:

“Does it accord with the canons of your church to admit communicants of another denomination?”

“Most certainly,” the doctor answered; “ours is not the Presbyterian table, General Washington, but the Lord’s table; and hence we give the Lord’s invitation to all His followers, of whatever name.”

Washington replied, “I am glad of it; that is as it ought to be; but as I was not quite sure of the fact, I thought I would ascertain it from yourself, as I propose to join with you on that occasion. Though I am a member of the Church of England, I have no exclusive partialities.

He encamped at Middlebrook, ten miles from Brunswick; thence advanced to Coryell Ferry, thirty miles from Philadelphia, where he learned that a British fleet of two hundred and twenty-eight sail had appeared off the capes of Delaware. He marched at once to Germantown, six miles from Philadelphia. Here he could personally superintend the defences of the city by daily visits thither.

One day he dined with several members of Congress, and was introduced to a French nobleman, the Marquis de Lafayette. The latter had heard of the American struggle for liberty, led by the heroic Washington, and, in common with the lovers of freedom in every land, he was charmed by the story. He had an interview with Silas Deane, who was in Paris with Dr. Franklin and Arthur Lee, as commissioners, to consummate alliance with the French, the result of which was his coming to this country.

Washington welcomed Lafayette with genuine cordiality, and on that day commenced a life-long friendship with him.

“We ought to feel embarrassed in presenting ourselves before an officer just from the French army,” he said.

“It is to learn, and not to instruct, that I came here,” was Lafayette’s polite and modest reply.

Lafayette addressed a communication to Congress, in which he said:

“After many sacrifices I have a right to ask two favors: one is to serve at my own expense; the other, to commence serving as a volunteer.”

Washington was attracted to Lafayette from the first, and he invited him immediately to a place on his staff.

Lafayette was a remarkable character. He was left an orphan at thirteen years of age, with a large fortune. Being a favorite in the court of Louis, he received a commission in the army at fifteen years of age. He was married at sixteen, and two years later resolved to remove to America and join in fighting the battle of liberty. His purpose becoming known, the government prevented his securing a passage. Determined not to be frustrated in his purpose, he purchased a vessel, and prepared to sail. His arrest being ordered, he escaped to Passage, where he boarded a vessel bound for the West Indies. When fairly under way, fearing that the English colonists in the West Indies might arrest him, he hired the captain to proceed direct to the American coast. Congress commissioned him major-general soon after he joined the American army, the youngest major-general ever known in America, if not in the world. His intimate relations and aid to Washington make this brief notice necessary.