George Washington's Surprise Attack

by Phillip Thomas Tucker

  Washington possessed another good and as significant reason to call a halt out of absolute necessity. In fact, the hard work of Washington’s 416 artillerymen had only begun during this most daring of offensive thrusts, with no rest for the weary. Knox’s veteran cannoneers had to get all eighteen cannon up the slippery, snow-covered slope. Now situated in the level river bottoms just below the Johnson Ferry House, the bundled-up artillerymen of Knox’s guns tightened wet leather and rope harnesses to skittish artillery horses in preparation for pulling the guns uphill.

  Working efficiently, the gunners then hooked up gun carriages to teams of horses, before moving up the snowy bluff to the top of the windswept plateau. Artillery horses struggled to pull the guns, now seemingly weighing more than ever before, up the slope along the snow-covered artery that more resembled a mere trail hewn through tall, virgin oaks by pioneers long ago than a well-traveled road. Artillery horses strained in hauling their heavy loads past the small Johnson ferry house, draped in a fresh shroud of white. Finally, Washington’s artillery pieces gained the high ground after another arduous struggle of exhausted gunners against a seeming conspiracy of geography, stubborn animals, and the harsh elements: no small accomplishment along slippery and unfamiliar ascending terrain under a ceaseless deluge from the skies. Here, atop the commanding plateau and after so much effort that had begun more than nine hours before on the Delaware’s west bank, Knox’s eighteen guns were now in an advanced position in preparation for Washington’s final order to begin their descent deeper into western New Jersey and the dark unknown of an almost trackless wilderness region lying north of Trenton.76

  All eighteen field pieces, with iron and bronze barrels and wooden wheels partially encrusted in ice from the incessant sleet falling, of Knox’s Regiment of Artillery were placed in a relatively neat line for the lengthy descent upon Trenton nearly ten miles to the south. Indicating the supreme importance of artillery’s role in his overall tactical plan to overwhelm the entire Rall brigade of three veteran regiments with massed long-arm firepower, Washington was very careful and circumspect about the specific placement of his artillery in column. Washington’s decisions were well-thought-out, guaranteeing that Knox’s guns would be “ready to go into action at a moment’s notice” once Trenton was finally reached.

  Most significant, the precision of the commander-in-chief’s orders revealed the extent of the high degree of his tactical clarity, vision, and insight, providing a formula for future success: “Four pieces [will be] at the head of each Column [designated as Sullivan’s First Division and Greene’s Second Division], three pieces at the head of the second Brigade of each Division, and two pieces with each of the Reserves.” Washington’s well-conceived instructions resulted in the judicious placement of Captain Samuel Forrest’s four Pennsylvania cannon positioned at the head of the first brigade in line, Mercer’s Maryland, Connecticut, and Massachusetts brigade of 833 men (Washington’s third largest brigade after Glover’s brigade and Sargent’s brigade, respectively), which served as the lead brigade of Greene’s Second Division column proper, while General Stephen’s Virginia brigade (consisting of 549 soldiers) served as the light, highly mobile vanguard, after Captain Washington’s Virginians splintered off to advance on their independent mission, before the main column.

  In maintaining his clear tactical vision in regard to early maximizing his artillery arm’s capabilities in the upcoming confrontation, Washington wisely planned to have his artillery firepower positioned at the head of not only the main column, but also at the head of each brigade, seamlessly mixing the strength of artillery with veteran infantry muscle to pack the greatest punch—to guarantee a concentrated firepower—at the battle’s opening. As Napoleon fully understood by assigning two artillery pieces to each French regiment (1809) not only to increase each unit’s firepower, but also to bolster his soldier’s morale, especially young non-veterans, to enhance overall combat capabilities of both arms. Equally important if Washington caught Colonel Rall and his brigade by surprise as planned, he also now realized that once his artillery was setup on the high ground just north of Trenton, then the winter storm would then be at his veteran cannoneer’s backs, while the town’s German defenders would be looking into the wrath of the nor’easter wrath driven by a stiff wind: another key advantage, especially at an important battle’s beginning.77

  Meanwhile, the storm raging over the quiet Delaware Valley continued unabated throughout the early morning hours, as if mocking Washington’s hopes of reaching and surprising Rall at Trenton. Young Johnny Greenwood described the average Continental soldier’s sad plight, including a good many men “without even shoes.” With the respite, the cold-numbed troops of Greenwood’s Massachusetts regiment, St. Clair’s New England brigade of around five hundred men, (Sullivan’s reserve command), “began to pull down the [rail] fences and make fires to warm ourselves, for the storm was increasing rapidly . . . it rained, hailed, snowed, and froze, and at the same time blew a perfect hurricane [for] after putting the rails on to burn, the wind and the fire would cut them in two in a moment, and when I turned my face toward the fire my back would be freezing [but] by turning round and round I kept myself from perishing before the large bonfire.”78

  By the flickering light of wet wood that of course burned with more difficulty than dry wood, Washington felt pity at the sight of his soldiers in threadbare uniforms that were now thoroughly soaked. Woolen and silk scarves were wrapped around heads and worn under old, dirty slouch hats that no respectable, upper-class Virginia planter back home would wear on his sprawling Tidewater plantation. Washington must have wondered how these young men and boys could possibly succeed in making the difficult trek of nearly ten miles march on this freezing night all the way to Trenton. After all, many of Washington’s finest soldiers now only wore “but parts of shoes [now wet] to their feet.”79

  Some of Washington’s men were wrapped in dirty, grease-covered blankets—essentially makeshift ponchos—that badly needed cleaning and patching. But even these rudely fashioned, ad hoc garments were precious few. Before crossing the Delaware, Washington’s Continentals had felt a growing sense of discouragement with the haunting knowledge that Philadelphia newspapers had recently carried appeals for citizens to donate blankets, but relatively few were forthcoming.

  Most of all, Washington realized that he needed to get his troops in the best shape possible by warming them up and allowing them some rest before the inevitable combat upon which so much hinged. He walked among his shivering band of motley soldiers, instilling confidence with his presence and inspiring words. Appealing to pride as well as patriotism, Washington presented a very personal challenge to his young, unsophisticated farmer-soldiers that not only revolved around patriotism but also around the time-honored concept of manhood: “I hope you will all fight like men” on this day of destiny.80

  Unknown to him in the deepening storm, Washington actually possessed far less reason to worry about his troop’s fighting resolve by this time. An unexpected development was already stealthy in the process of occurring to fulfill exactly what Washington had long worked so hard to create in attempting to transform amateur troops into a hardcore, close-knit band of brothers who were ready to die for each other. Significantly, this almost inexplicable phenomenon occurred just after the common soldier’s spirits had plummeted to a new all-time low, thanks to the combined negative effect of the crossing delays, Washington’s shattered timetable, and the storm’s escalating severity. Instead of resulting in a shattered morale as so often in the past, something unusual and unexpected happened among the men of Washington’s isolated task force amid the falling snow and blustery gales of winter.

  In a strange way, it was almost as if the Delaware’s successful crossing and an unprecedented measure of adversity had somehow bestowed a renewed faith among the common soldiers from across America, with this notable development in itself becoming viewed by these men as a harbinger of an upcoming victory on New Jersey soil. Ind
eed, in purely psychological terms, the sheer fortitude, courage, and nerve required by Washington’s homespun soldiers, mostly yeomen farmers unable to swim, to faithfully follow an aristocratic Virginia general with losing ways and embark upon the perilous passage over a wide, ice-clogged river at night was in essence a significant moral and psychological victory in itself. Therefore, this tangible success now bolstered spirits and faith to an unprecedented degree, boding well for future success at Trenton.

  After the gloomy sense of defeatism that had long gripped this often-losing army like an ever-tightening vise from which there was no escape, the ever-perceptive Private Greenwood felt this refreshingly new pulsating surge of a moral rejuvenation and renewal of optimism, that lay just below the surface, which suddenly fueled greater resolve among Washington’s long-suffering rank and file in a crisis situation: “The noise of the solders coming over [the river] and clearing away the ice, the rattling of the cannon wheels on the frozen ground, and the cheerfulness of my fellow-comrades encouraged me beyond expression, and . . . I felt great pleasure” and a new burning sense of optimism and expectation of success.81 With Washington’s leadership ability reaching a new height, more of these often-defeated Continental soldiers began to believe in themselves and in what their commander-in-chief could achieve east of the Delaware. They were becoming increasingly convinced that in Washington “we had the right man to lead the cause of American liberty,” in the words of General Sullivan’s perceptive brother.82

  But, ironically, even Washington, at least not until the fighting for Trenton’s possession began, was not yet fully aware of this stealthy and subtle, almost subconscious, transformation that was quietly taking place among his long-suffering troops even now. Instead the commander-in-chief, yet felt a nagging sense of foreboding, expecting the worst because of his thoroughly shattered timetable. Washington now realized he would be unable to launch his attack an hour before daylight to catch the Hessians by surprise. Again playing the master psychologist, Washington bolstered the resolve among the common soldiery by emphasizing his watchword, “Victory or Death,” which reminded everyone what was truly now at stake. The relatively small number of troops at Washington’s disposal continued to trouble the over-burdened commander-in-chief, with once robust Continental regiments so severely decimated by the ravages of disease, death, and desertions. As Washington had earlier revealed in a letter to Colonel Joseph Reed, however, the depleted ranks of his finest Continental regiments had failed to diminish his determination: “ . . . our numbers, I am sorry to say, being less than [hoped] Yet nothing but dire necessity will, nay must, justify an attack.”83

  II

  Turning Point: Washington’s Audacious Decision to Forge Ahead

  Upon first accepting command of the Continental Army, the inexperienced Washington had solemnly written to a confidential letter to his brother, “I am embarked on a wide ocean . . . in which, perhaps, no safe harbor is to be found.”1 Ironically, Washington’s anguished words more directly applied to the seemingly no-win situation in which he now found himself and more than at any other time in the revolutionary struggle.

  Indeed, because of the lengthy delay in transporting all eighteen pieces of Knox’s artillery across the river and with his overly optimistic schedule more than three hours behind schedule after the final boat crossed around 3:00 a.m. instead of by midnight as planned, Washington faced not only his own personal crisis but also a major decision in the cold darkness between 3:00 a.m. and to “near” 4:00 a.m. Nothing was now more vital to success than time, because Washington’s plan was based upon reaching Trenton’s outskirts and attacking an hour before dawn at around 5:00 a.m. And now too much precious time had been lost, slipping away along with the fast-fading chances for success. Therefore, in his own words, Washington was overwhelmed with a sense of absolute “despair of surprizing [sic]” Trenton, because he and his men now could not reach it before the dawn of Thursday, December 26.

  This key turning point moment came during the crucial hour that his troops needed to regroup and gain a much-needed respite on the river’s east side. With so many recent setbacks yet weighing heavily on his mind, Washington now faced his greatest dilemma: given the rapidly deteriorating situation, worsening weather conditions, and disintegrated timetable, should the march and attack on Trenton, yet nearly ten miles to the south, be aborted now that he was entirely unable to strike an hour before dawn as planned? And Cadwalader and Ewing had aborted their own offensive operations for these same reasons, assuming that Washington had done the same. As he penned, Washington now faced the crucial turning point situation that “made me despair of surprizing [sic] the Town, as I well knew we could not reach it before the day was fairly broke, but as I was certain there was no making a Retreat without being discovered, and harassed on repassing the River, I determined to push on at all Events.”2

  With this audacious decision, Washington continued to demonstrate remarkable strength of will and character well-honed by abundant past adversity. He, therefore, was completely “undismayed by disaster, unchanged by change of fortune,” at a time when an unkind fate had seemingly turned against his best laid plains and ambitions.3 Most of all, Washington was consumed by the obsession that because “we are contending for our Liberty,” Trenton must be attacked regardless of the odds, costs, or sacrifice.4 Washington’s bold decision to faithfully adhere to his original plan and forge on to Trenton was especially bold for a variety of reasons, including the fact that increasing numbers of his men and officers, including high-ranking ones, believed that it now would be wise to abort the entire operation.5 All the while, consequently, Washington went to great efforts to lift spirits with encouraging words, fortifying resolve and morale for the stiff challenges that lay ahead.6

  Although he realized that his soldiers were in overall bad shape and his delicate timetable had been shattered beyond recognition, Washington knew from recent intelligence that the Hessians at Trenton were equally weary and vulnerable. Fortunately to additionally embolden Washington at this time, no Hessian soldiers had been posted along the river north of Trenton to ascertain the rebel’s crossing of the Delaware, and sound a warning at Trenton. Therefore, because the element of surprise was fully intact, the opportunity yet existed for the ragged Americans to score a remarkable victory, when least expected. And, most of all, Washington had lost too many battles to allow such a golden opportunity pass by when the life of his army and nation was at stake.

  Despite his own overly ambitious plans having gone awry, a strong-willed Washington kept his poise and offensive-mindedness. With a Virginia planter’s stubbornness, he remained firm in his resolve to keep going and pushing ahead to Trenton, regardless of the situation or circumstances. Unlike a good many other commanders, Washington was undaunted. He maintained his firm determination to carry through with his original tactical plan, regardless of all that had gone wrong. For Washington, there was now no turning back. In making his final fateful decision amid the biting cold and howling winds, Washington reached down deeply and drew greater strength from his strong religious faith, perhaps including one of his favorite Bible passages, the 101st Psalm that now applied perfectly to this nerve-racking situation and to Colonel Rall’s three Hessian regiments in regard to a righteous sense of morality: “I will early destroy all the wicked of the land.” In addition, Washington felt that his “chosen people” (Americans) and their infant republic possessed the special destiny of creating a new world (the shining “city upon a hill”), and this nascent nationalistic faith fueled a burning desire to continue onward into the dark depths of “the lion’s den.” Combing his strong religious faith and a nascent American nationalism, Washington had learned his moral lessons well at Pohick Church, west of Mount Vernon, where he had long sat in pew twenty-eight.

  Keenly noticed by his men, who felt encouraged by the inspiring sight, Washington remained “a study in quiet resolve,” calmness, and steely determination, regardless of the seemingly dramatically reduced
combat capabilities and overall chances for success because of the storm’s intensity and shattered timetable. Clearly, Washington had just made not only “the most momentous decision” of his career in deciding to continue to push onward to Trenton in a raging storm, as if it were a bright Sunday day in springtime and everything was yet progressing smoothly and right ontime, but also the most important decision in America’s young life. Instead of giving up hope or forsaking his clear vision of what it took to reap a dramatic victory against the odds at Trenton to rejuvenate America’s “righteous Cause,” in his own words, Washington was only fueled with a greater determination to succeed at any cost.7

  Most significant at this crucial moment, the die-hard Virginian felt that he was not alone in his desperate bid to reverse America’s fate, having written on December 23 how if “we are successful, which Heaven grant” to America.8 And most important for Washington, the audacious decision to continue leading the advance upon Trenton was also very much about something much larger than even his troops realized. Most of all, Washington was determined to continue his advance upon Trenton “for America’s future [because] He was, in a sense, the first believer in Manifest Destiny.”9