WASHINGTON RECROSSES THE DELAWARE.--BATTLE OF PRINCETON.
There was a kind of episode in the affair at Trenton. Colonel Griffin,
who had thrown himself previously into the Jerseys with his detachment
of Pennsylvania militia, found himself, through indisposition and the
scanty number of his troops, unable to render efficient service in the
proposed attack. He sent word to Cadwalader, therefore, that he should
probably render him more real aid by making a demonstration in front
of Donop, and drawing him off so far into the interior as to be out of
the way of rendering support to Colonel Rahl. He accordingly presented
himself in sight of Donop's cantonment on the 25th of December, and
succeeded in drawing him out with nearly his whole force of two
thousand men. He then retired slowly before him, skirmishing, but
avoiding anything like an action, until he had lured him as far as
Mount Holly, when he left him to find his way back to his post at his
leisure.
The cannonade of Washington's attack in Trenton on the morning of the
26th was distinctly heard at Cadwalader's camp at Bristol. Imperfect
tidings of the result reached there about eleven o'clock, and produced
the highest exultation and excitement. Cadwalader made another attempt
to cross the river and join Washington, whom he supposed to be still
in the Jerseys, following up the blow he had struck. He could not
effect the passage of the river with the most of the troops, until
mid-day of the 27th, when he received from Washington a detailed
account of his success, and of his having recrossed into Pennsylvania.
Cadwalader was now in a dilemma. Donop, he presumed, was still at
Mount Holly, whither Griffin had decoyed him; but he might soon march
back. His forces were equal if not superior in number to his own, and
veterans instead of raw militia. But then there was the glory of
rivalling the exploit at Trenton, and the importance of following out
the effort for the relief of the Jerseys and the salvation of
Philadelphia. Beside, Washington, in all probability, after disposing
of his prisoners, had again crossed into the Jerseys and might be
acting offensively. Reed relieved Cadwalader from his dilemma by
proposing that they should push on to Burlington, and there determine,
according to intelligence, whether to proceed to Bordentown or Mount
Holly. The plan was adopted, and Cadwalader took up his line of march.
Reed and two companions spurred on to reconnoitre the enemy's
outposts, about four miles from Burlington, but pulled up at the place
where the picket was usually stationed. There was no smoke, nor any
sign of a human being. They rode up and found the place deserted. From
the country people in the neighborhood they received an explanation.
Count Donop had returned to his post from the pursuit of Griffin, only
in time to hear of the disaster at Trenton. He immediately began a
retreat in the utmost panic and confusion, calling in his guards and
parties as he hurried forward. The troops in the neighborhood of
Burlington had decamped precipitately the preceding evening.
Colonel Reed sent back intelligence of this to Cadwalader, and still
pushed on with his companions. Arrived at Bordentown not an enemy was
to be seen; the fugitives from Trenton had spread a panic on the 26th,
and the Hessians and their refugee adherents had fled in confusion,
leaving their sick behind them. One of Reed's companions returned to
Cadwalader, who had halted at Burlington, and advised him to proceed.
Cadwalader wrote in the night to Washington, informing him of his
whereabouts, and that he should march for Bordentown in the morning.
"If you should think proper to cross over," added he, "it may easily
be effected at the place where we passed; a pursuit would keep up the
panic. They went off with great precipitation, and pressed all the
wagons in their reach; I am told many of them are gone to South
Amboy."
Washington needed no prompting of the kind. Bent upon following up his
blow, he had barely allowed his troops a day or two to recover from
recent exposure and fatigue, that they might have strength and spirit
to pursue the retreating enemy, beat up other of their quarters, and
entirely reverse affairs in the Jerseys. In this spirit he had written
to Generals McDougall and Maxwell at Morristown, to collect as large a
body of militia as possible, and harass the enemy in flank and rear.
Men of influence also were despatched by him into different parts of
the Jerseys, to spirit up the militia to revenge the oppression, the
ravage, and insults they had experienced from the enemy, especially
from the Hessians.
On the 29th, his troops began to cross the river. It would be a slow
and difficult operation, owing to the ice; two parties of light troops
therefore were detached in advance, whom Colonel Reed was to send in
pursuit of the enemy. They marched into Trenton about two o'clock, and
were immediately put on the traces of Donop, to hang on his rear and
harass him until other troops should come up. Cadwalader also detached
a party of riflemen from Bordentown with like orders. Donop, in
retreating, had divided his force, sending one part by a cross road to
Princeton, and hurrying on with the remainder to Brunswick. While this
was going on, Washington was effecting the passage of his main force
to Trenton. He himself had crossed on the 29th of December, but it
took two days more to get the troops and artillery over the icy river,
and that with great labor and difficulty.
At this critical moment, Washington received a letter from a committee
of Congress, transmitting him resolves of that body dated the 27th of
December, investing him with military powers quite dictatorial. "Happy
is it for this country," write the committee, "that the general of
their forces can safely be intrusted with the most unlimited power,
and neither personal security, liberty or property, be in the least
degree endangered thereby." Washington's acknowledgement of this great
mark of confidence was noble and characteristic. "I find Congress have
done me the honor to intrust me with powers, in my military capacity,
of the highest nature and almost unlimited extent. Instead of thinking
myself freed from all _civil_ obligations by this mark of their
confidence, I shall constantly bear in mind that, as the sword was the
last resort for the preservation of our liberties, so it ought to be
the first thing laid aside when those liberties are firmly
established."
General Howe was taking his ease in winter quarters at New York,
waiting for the freezing of the Delaware to pursue his triumphant
march to Philadelphia, when tidings were brought him of the surprise
and capture of the Hessians at Trenton. He instantly stopped Lord
Cornwallis, who was on the point of embarking for England, and sent
him back in all haste to resume the command in the Jerseys.
The ice in the Delaware impeded the crossing of the American troops,
and gave the British time to draw in their scattered cantonments and
assemble their whole force at Princeton. Information was obtained that
Lord Cornwallis had joined General Grant with a reinforcement of
chosen troops. They had now seven or eight thousand men, and were
pressing wagons for a march upon Trenton. Word, too, was brought that
General Howe was on the march with a thousand light troops, with which
he had landed at Amboy.
The situation of Washington was growing critical. The enemy were
beginning to advance their large pickets towards Trenton. Everything
indicated an approaching attack. The force with him was small; to
retreat across the river would destroy the dawn of hope awakened in
the bosoms of the Jersey militia by the late exploit, but to make a
stand without reinforcements was impossible. In this emergency he
called to his aid General Cadwalader from Crosswicks, and General
Mifflin from Bordentown, with their collective forces amounting to
about three thousand six hundred men. They promptly answered to his
call, and marching in the night, joined him on the 1st of January.
Washington chose a position for his main body on the east side of the
Assunpink. There was a narrow stone bridge across it, where the water
was very deep; the same bridge over which part of Rahl's brigade had
escaped in the recent affair. He planted his artillery so as to
command the bridge and the fords. His advance guard was stationed
about three miles off in a wood, having in front a stream called
Shabbakong Creek. Early on the morning of the 2d, came certain word
that Cornwallis was approaching with all his force. Strong parties
were sent out under General Greene, who skirmished with the enemy and
harassed them in their advance. By twelve o'clock they reached
Shabbakong, and halted for a time on its northern bank. Then crossing
it, and moving forward with rapidity, they drove the advance guard out
of the woods, and pushed on until they reached a high ground near the
town. Here Hand's corps of several battalions was drawn up and held
them for a time in check. All the parties in advance ultimately
retreated to the main body, on the east side of the Assunpink.
From all these checks and delays it was nearly sunset before
Cornwallis, with the head of his army, entered Trenton. His rear-guard
under General Leslie rested at Maiden Head, about six miles distant,
and nearly half way between Trenton and Princeton. Forming his troops
into columns, he now made repeated attempts to cross the Assunpink at
the bridge and the fords, but was as often repulsed by the artillery.
For a part of the time Washington, mounted on a white horse, stationed
himself at the south end of the bridge, issuing his orders. Each time
the enemy was repulsed there was a shout along the American lines. At
length they drew off, came to a halt, and lighted their camp fires.
The Americans did the same, using the neighboring fences for the
purpose.
A cannonade was kept up on both sides until dark; but with little
damage to the Americans. When night closed in, the two camps lay in
sight of each other's fires, ruminating the bloody action of the
following day. It was the most gloomy and anxious night that had yet
closed in on the American army throughout its series of perils and
disasters; for there was no concealing the impending danger. But what
must have been the feelings of the commander-in-chief as he anxiously
patrolled his camp and considered his desperate position? A small
stream, fordable in several places, was all that separated his raw,
inexperienced army from an enemy vastly superior in numbers and
discipline, and stung to action by the mortification of a late defeat.
In this darkest of moments a gleam of hope flashed upon his mind: a
bold expedient suggested itself. Almost the whole of the enemy's force
must by this time be drawn out of Princeton and advancing by
detachments toward Trenton, while their baggage and principal stores
must remain weakly guarded at Brunswick. Was it not possible by a
rapid night-march along the Quaker road, a different road from that on
which General Leslie with the rear-guard was resting, to get past that
force undiscovered, come by surprise upon those left at Princeton,
capture or destroy what stores were left there, and then push on to
Brunswick? This would save the army from being cut off; would avoid
the appearance of a defeat; and might draw the enemy away from
Trenton, while some fortunate stroke might give additional reputation
to the American arms.
Such was the plan which Washington revolved in his mind on the gloomy
banks of the Assunpink, and which he laid before his officers in a
council of war, held after nightfall, at the quarters of General
Mercer. It met with instant concurrence. One formidable difficulty
presented itself. The weather was unusually mild; there was a thaw, by
which the roads might be rendered deep and miry, and almost
impassable. Fortunately, the wind veered to the north in the course of
the evening; the weather became intensely cold, and in two hours the
roads were once more hard and frost-bound. In the meantime, the
baggage of the army was silently removed to Burlington, and every
other preparation was made for a rapid march. To deceive the enemy,
men were employed to dig trenches near the bridge within hearing of
the British sentries, with orders to continue noisily at work until
daybreak; others were to go the rounds, relieve guards at the bridge
and fords, keep up the camp fires, and maintain all the appearance of
a regular encampment. At daybreak they were to hasten after the army.
In the dead of the night the army drew quietly out of the encampment
and began its march. General Mercer was in the advance with the
remnant of his flying camp, now but about three hundred and fifty men.
The Quaker road was a complete roundabout, joining the main road about
two miles from Princeton, where Washington expected to arrive before
daybreak. The road, however, was new and rugged; cut through woods,
where the stumps of trees broke the wheels of some of the baggage
trains and retarded the march of the troops; so that it was near
sunrise of a bright, frosty morning when Washington reached the bridge
over Stony Brook, about three miles from Princeton. After crossing the
bridge he led his troops along the bank of the brook to the edge of a
wood, where a by-road led off on the right through low grounds, and
was said by the guides to be a short cut to Princeton and less exposed
to view. By this road Washington defiled with the main body, ordering
Mercer to continue along the brook with his brigade until he should
arrive at the main road, where he was to secure, and if possible
destroy a bridge over which it passes, so as to intercept any
fugitives from Princeton, and check any retrograde movements of the
British troops which might have advanced towards Trenton.
Hitherto the movements of the Americans had been undiscovered by the
enemy. Three regiments of the latter, the 17th, 40th, and 55th, with
three troops of dragoons, had been quartered all night in Princeton,
under marching orders to join Lord Cornwallis in the morning. The 17th
regiment, under Colonel Mawhood, was already on the march; the 55th
regiment was preparing to follow. Mawhood had crossed the bridge by
which the old or main road to Trenton passes over Stony Brook, and was
proceeding through a wood beyond when, as he attained the summit of a
hill about sunrise, the glittering of arms betrayed to him the
movement of Mercer's troops to the left, who were filing along the
Quaker road to secure the bridge, as they had been ordered. The woods
prevented him from seeing their number. He supposed them to be some
broken portion of the American army flying before Lord Cornwallis.
With this idea, he faced about and made a retrograde movement to
intercept them or hold them in check; while messengers spurred off at
all speed to hasten forward the regiments still lingering at
Princeton, so as completely to surround them.
The woods concealed him until he had recrossed the bridge of Stony
Brook, when he came in full sight of the van of Mercer's brigade. Both
parties pushed to get possession of a rising ground on the right near
the house of a Mr. Clark. The Americans being nearest, reached it
first, and formed behind a hedge fence which extended along a slope in
front of the house; whence, being chiefly armed with rifles, they
opened a destructive fire. It was returned with great spirit by the
enemy. At the first discharge Mercer was dismounted. One of his
colonels, also, was mortally wounded and carried to the rear. Availing
themselves of the confusion thus occasioned, the British charged with
the bayonet; the American riflemen having no weapon of the kind were
thrown into disorder and retreated. Mercer, who was on foot,
endeavored to rally them, when a blow from the butt end of a musket
felled him to the ground. He rose and defended himself with his sword,
but was surrounded, bayoneted repeatedly, and left for dead. Mawhood
pursued the broken and retreating troops to the brow of the rising
ground, on which Clark's house was situated, when he beheld a large
force emerging from a wood and advancing to the rescue. It was a body
of Pennsylvania militia, which Washington, on hearing the firing, had
detached to the support of Mercer. Mawhood instantly ceased pursuit,
drew up his artillery, and by a heavy discharge brought the militia to
a stand.
At this moment Washington himself arrived at the scene of action,
having galloped from the by-road in advance of his troops. From a
rising ground he beheld Mercer's troops retreating in confusion, and
the detachment of militia checked by Mawhood's artillery. Everything
was at peril. Putting spurs to his horse he dashed past the hesitating
militia, waving his hat and cheering them on. His commanding figure
and white horse made him a conspicuous object for the enemy's
marksmen; but he heeded it not. Galloping forward under the fire of
Mawhood's battery, he called upon Mercer's broken brigade. The
Pennsylvanians rallied at the sound of his voice, and caught fire from
his example. At the same time the 7th Virginia regiment emerged from
the wood, and moved forward with loud cheers, while a fire of
grapeshot was opened by Captain Moulder of the American artillery from
the brow of a ridge to the south.
Colonel Mawhood, who a moment before had thought his triumph secure,
found himself assailed on every side and separated from the other
British regiments. He fought, however, with great bravery, and for a
short time the action was desperate. Washington was in the midst of
it; equally endangered by the random fire of his own men and the
artillery and musketry of the enemy. Mawhood by this time had forced
his way at the point of the bayonet through gathering foes, though
with heavy loss, back to the main road, and was in full retreat
towards Trenton to join Cornwallis. Washington detached Major Kelly
with a party of Pennsylvania troops to destroy the bridge at Stony
Brook, over which Mawhood had retreated, so as to impede the advance
of General Leslie from Maiden Head.
In the meantime the 55th regiment, which had been on the left and
nearer Princeton, had been encountered by the American advance-guard
under General St. Clair, and after some sharp fighting in a ravine had
given way and was retreating across fields and along a by-road to
Brunswick. The remaining regiment, the 40th, had not been able to come
up in time for the action; a part of it fled toward Brunswick; the
residue took refuge in the college at Princeton, recently occupied by
them as barracks. Artillery was now brought to bear on the college,
and a few shot compelled those within to surrender.
In this brief but brilliant action about one hundred of the British
were left dead on the field, and nearly three hundred taken prisoners,
fourteen of whom were officers. The loss of the Americans was about
twenty-five or thirty men and several officers. Among the latter was
Colonel Haslet, who had distinguished himself throughout the campaign
by being among the foremost in services of danger. A greater loss was
that of General Mercer. He was said to be either dead or dying in the
house of Mr. Clark, whither he had been conveyed by his aide-de-camp,
Major Armstrong. Washington would have ridden back from Princeton to
visit him and have him conveyed to a place of greater security, but
was assured that, if alive, he was too desperately wounded to bear
removal.
Under these circumstances Washington felt compelled to leave his old
companion in arms to his fate. Indeed, he was called away by the
exigencies of his command, having to pursue the routed regiments which
were making a headlong retreat to Brunswick. In this pursuit he took
the lead at the head of a detachment of cavalry. At Kingston, however,
three miles to the northeast of Princeton, he pulled up, restrained
his ardor, and held a council of war on horseback. Should he keep on
to Brunswick or not? The capture of the British stores and baggage
would make his triumph complete; but, on the other hand, his troops
were excessively fatigued by their rapid march all night and hard
fight in the morning. All of them had been one night without sleep,
and some of them two, and many were half-starved. They were without
blankets, thinly clad, some of them barefooted, and this in freezing
weather. Cornwallis would be upon them before they could reach
Brunswick. His rear-guard, under General Leslie, had been quartered
but six miles from Princeton, and the retreating troops must have
roused them. Under these considerations, it was determined to
discontinue the pursuit and push for Morristown. There they would be
in a mountainous country, heavily wooded, in an abundant neighborhood,
and on the flank of the enemy, with various defiles by which they
might change their position according to his movements. Filing off to
the left, therefore, from Kingston, and breaking down the bridges
behind him, Washington took the narrow road by Rocky Hill to
Pluckamin.
His lordship had retired to rest at Trenton with the sportsman's vaunt
that he would "bag the fox in the morning." Nothing could surpass his
surprise and chagrin when at daybreak the expiring watchfires and
deserted camp of the Americans told him that the prize had once more
evaded his grasp; that the general whose military skill he had decried
had outgeneralled him. For a time he could not learn whither the army,
which had stolen away so silently, had directed its stealthy march. By
sunrise, however, there was the booming of cannon, like the rumbling
of distant thunder, in the direction of Princeton. The idea flashed
upon him that Washington had not merely escaped but was about to make
a dash at the British magazines at Brunswick. Alarmed for the safety
of his military stores, his lordship forthwith broke up his camp and
made a rapid march towards Princeton. As he arrived in sight of the
bridge over Stony Brook, he beheld Major Kelly and his party busy in
its destruction. A distant discharge of round shot from his
field-pieces drove them away, but the bridge was already broken. It
would take time to repair it for the passage of the artillery, so
Cornwallis in his impatience urged his troops breast-high through the
turbulent and icy stream, and again pushed forward.
Without further delay he hurried forward, eager to save his magazines.
Crossing the bridge at Kingston, he kept on along the Brunswick road,
supposing Washington still before him. The latter had got far in the
advance during the delays caused by the broken bridge at Stony Brook,
and the alteration of his course at Kingston had carried him
completely out of the way of Cornwallis. His lordship reached
Brunswick towards evening, and endeavored to console himself by the
safety of the military stores for being so completely foiled and
out-manoeuvred.
Washington in the meantime was all on the alert; the lion part of his
nature was aroused; and while his weary troops were resting at
Pluckamin, he was despatching missives and calling out aid to enable
him to follow up his successes. In a letter to Putnam, he says: "The
enemy appear to be panic-struck. I am in hopes of driving them out of
the Jerseys. March the troops under your command to Crosswicks, and
keep a strict watch upon the enemy in this quarter." To General Heath,
also, who was stationed in the Highlands of the Hudson, he wrote at
the same harried moment: "The enemy are in great consternation; and as
the panic affords us a favorable opportunity to drive them out of the
Jerseys, it has been determined in council that you should move down
towards New York with a considerable force, as if you had a design
upon the city. That being an object of great importance, the enemy
will be reduced to the necessity of withdrawing a considerable part of
their force from the Jerseys, if not the whole, to secure the city."
These letters despatched, he continued forward to Morristown, where at
length he came to a halt from his incessant and harassing marchings.
There he learnt that General Mercer was still alive. He immediately
sent his nephew, Major George Lewis, under the protection of a flag to
attend upon him. Lewis found him languishing in great pain; he had
been treated with respect by the enemy and great tenderness by the
benevolent family who had sheltered him. He expired on the 12th of
January, in the fifty-sixth year of his age.
From Morristown, Washington again wrote to General Heath, repeating
his former orders. To Major-general Lincoln, also, who was just
arrived at Peekskill, and had command of the Massachusetts militia, he
writes on the 7th: "General Heath will communicate mine of this date
to you, by which you will find that the greater part of your troops
are to move down towards New York to draw the attention of the enemy
to that quarter." Colonel Reed was ordered to send out rangers and
bodies of militia to scour the country, waylay foraging parties, cut
off supplies and keep the cantonments of the enemy in a state of
siege.
The expedition under General Heath towards New York, from which much
had been anticipated by Washington, proved a failure. It moved in
three divisions, by different routes, but all arriving nearly at the
same time at the enemy's outposts at King's Bridge. There was some
skirmishing, but the great feature of the expedition was a pompous and
peremptory summons of Fort Independence to surrender. "Twenty minutes
only can be allowed," said Heath, "for the garrison to give their
answer, and, should it be in the negative, they must abide the
consequences." The garrison made no answer but an occasional
cannonade. Heath failed to follow up his summons by corresponding
deeds. He hovered and skirmished for some days about the outposts and
Spyt den Duivel Creek, and then retired before a threatened snow-storm
and the report of an enemy's fleet from Rhode Island, with troops
under Lord Percy, who might land in Westchester and take the besieging
force in rear.
But though disappointed in this part of his plan, Washington, having
received reinforcements of militia, continued with his scanty army to
carry on his system of annoyance. The situation of Cornwallis who but
a short time before traversed the Jerseys so triumphantly, became
daily more and more irksome. Spies were in his camp to give notice of
every movement, and foes without to take advantage of it; so that not
a foraging party could sally forth without being waylaid. By degrees
he drew in his troops which were posted about the country, and
collected them at New Brunswick and Amboy, so as to have a
communication by water with New York, whence he was now compelled to
draw nearly all his supplies. In fact the recent operations in the
Jerseys had suddenly changed the whole aspect of the war, and given a
triumphant close to what had been a disastrous campaign. The troops,
which for months had been driven from post to post, apparently an
undisciplined rabble, had all at once turned upon their pursuers and
astounded them by brilliant stratagems and daring exploits. The
commander, whose cautious policy had been sneered at by enemies and
regarded with impatience by misjudging friends, had all at once shown
that he possessed enterprise as well as circumspection, energy as well
as endurance, and that beneath his wary coldness lurked a fire to
break forth at the proper moment. This year's campaign, the most
critical one of the war, and especially the part of it which occurred
in the Jerseys, was the ordeal that made his great qualities fully
appreciated by his countrymen, and gained for him from the statesmen
and generals of Europe the appellation of the AMERICAN FABIUS.