George Washington's Surprise Attack

by Phillip Thomas Tucker

  Having left their artillery implements behind and with smoothbore flintlocks in hand, these veteran gunners then joined Captain Washington’s foremost band of Virginians. Possessing a keen sense of humor, young Orderly Sergeant White was one of the few common soldiers, who had even succeeded in not only making the austere General Washington smile, but also his wife Martha. Back at Cambridge, Massachusetts, and with a Tidewater Virginia planter’s slow drawl, Washington had remarked to the teenage New England sergeant, who had yet to shave and looked like a mere boy, that he was “very young” for the responsibilities of an officer and assistant adjutant of an artillery unit “to do that duty.” With some spunk mixed with a wry sense of humor, White had quickly answered the commander-in-chief diplomatically in his New England accent that he was indeed a very young man for the job, but then expressly made the point of emphasizing, with common sense wit, how he was growing older each day. About to laugh out loud and lose his legendary cool composure and strict aristocratic bearing before this outspoken, spunky boy-soldier, Washington quickly turned “his face to his wife, and both smiled” at White’s witty response.12

  Like Washington, Knox was also thinking far ahead in tactical terms this morning. He now wanted to accomplish much more than merely add extra strength to Captain Washington’s Virginia vanguard by the addition of Sergeant White and his New England and Pennsylvania gun crew. Instead, the farsighted Bostonian was already contemplating about how Engelhardt’s two exposed guns, if captured, could then be immediately utilized against Rall’s own troops to maximize his long-arm strength in the struggle for Trenton. Therefore, Knox realized early that extra artillerymen would be needed to handle the Hessian three-pounders, if taken. Clearly, by planning to increase their artillery firepower on a raging battlefield in this unorthodox manner, both Washington and his top artillery lieutenant continued to demonstrate that their tactical foresight and visions shined exceptionally bright on this dark, snowy morning.13

  As understood by no one more than Washington, almost everything now depended upon the success of the upcoming attack of Captain Washington and Monroe’s vanguard in spearheading the aggressive bid to capture the Hessian cannon that had to be silenced at all costs. Quite simply, unless the two Hessian guns were quickly neutralized, then the Rall brigade yet held much potential to not only inflict serious damage upon Washington’s forces, but also to reverse the battle’s course and the day’s fortunes. In fact, time was now actually on the Hessians’ side, because their superior training and discipline would certainly rise to the fore if the Americans suddenly suffered a sharp tactical setback or if they lost momentum, the initiative, or their confidence as so often in the past. After all, Washington’s troops were yet in overall poor shape for a sustained battle of attrition in blizzard-like conditions: half-frozen, without sleep, weary from having marched for nearly ten miles all night, with a good many wet weapons and ammunition, and relatively few bayonets among the thinned ranks of die-hard warriors. Therefore, as soon as possible, Washington knew that he needed to deliver an offensive blow to degrade as much of the Rall brigade’s yet ample combat capabilities, especially the artillery arm, as possible. Quite simply and in overall tactical terms, it was now or never for Washington and his homespun revolutionaries on this day of destiny, and they seemed intuitively knew as much without a word spoken.14

  Meanwhile, Washington’s soldiers, especially Mercer’s troops but also Haslet’s Delaware marksmen, just to their north, continued to inflict damage upon Rall’s exposed left flank on King Street’s east side, raking the von Lossberg fusiliers in Church Alley and the Rall Regiment in Pinkerton’s Alley, from north to south. And the northernmost of Haslet’s Delaware soldiers continued to blast away at Lieutenant Engelhardt’s band of gunners from the northwest. With the battle’s outcome hanging delicately, if not precariously, in the balance, Washington knew that it was now paramount to silence the Rall Regiment’s two cannon before the German brigade’s other four three-pounders could be rapidly brought into action by their four-horse teams to unite for the eventual unleashing of a concentrated artillery fire of six guns to at least match, if not overcome, Washington’s artillery firepower at King Street’s head. Ironically, the struggle for King Street’s possession was about to be determined by a relatively few number of participants, a small vanguard of Virginia riflemen and a lone two-gun section of Hessian artillery yet offering spirited defiance.

  Although not yet fully recovered from a nasty Long Island wound, Captain Washington was determined to do his best this morning of decision, as if not to let his second cousin, the commander-in-chief, down and to bring honor to Virginia and the Washington family name. The esteemed captain had come a long way since commanding the adventurous, young men of the Stafford County, Virginia Minutemen, who had been integrated into the Third Virginia Continental Regiment. Here, on the commanding ground where King and Queen Streets came together to form a narrow wedge, Captain Washington stood before his band of Old Dominion veterans, including former Minutemen from his own Stafford County, in the Potomac River country north, where he had been born on the second to last day of February 1752. He knew these young men and boys and their rolling, heavily forested region located just west of the Potomac River and north of Fredericksburg quite well.

  Under General Washington’s eyes—a motivating factor in itself—and with hundreds of Stirling’s front-line troops, including his own Third Virginia, aligned across the high ground just to his rear, the young Virginia captain, with drawn saber, stood before his eager men. While the snow dropped thickly over the windy heights above Trenton and Forrest’s Pennsylvania cannons roared to the rear, Captain Washington then shouted the order for his Virginia vanguard to charge down the slope that led straight into Trenton. Now unleashed like a tight, pent-up coil, the vanguard Virginians sprang forward with an enthusiastic shout. To do or die, they dashed forward, spearheading the infantry attack down King Street in an audacious bid to eliminate the “main barrier to the American advance,” Lieutenant Engelhardt’s booming two guns positioned on open ground just above Petty’s Run.

  Developing a clever solution to a vexing tactical dilemma, Captain Washington had ordered his Virginia boys to stay close to the row of wooden and brick houses in surging down both sides of King Street instead of foolishly charging down the middle of the street to present ideal targets for the German gunners. In addition, the snow was less deep close to the houses than in the street, promising an easier, faster sprint down the slope. To the young captain, the systematic breaking up of Rall’s counterattack in King Street had already verified the folly of any headlong advance up or down this snowy avenue. Therefore, he was not about to repeat that same tactical mistake. Fortunately, Captain Washington and his Virginia veterans proved to be quick learners, demonstrating not only tactical flexibility and innovativeness but also a good deal of common sense. Meanwhile, to Captain Washington’s rear, some of the finest riflemen of Stirling and Stephen’s Virginians blasted away from the high ground at Engelhardt’s exposed artillerymen, proving support fire for the vanguard’s attack.

  Rushing down the gradual slope at the forefront beside Captain Washington, teenage Lieutenant Monroe also led the vanguard of Virginia riflemen on the double. Ironically, Monroe should not have been now leading the desperate attack down King Street. He had only recently volunteered to join Washington’s vanguard upon learning that the Virginia captain would command the vanguard. The scholarly, devout Monroe had been studying for the ministry and the Holy Bible only a short time before. Even in his own estimation, Monroe was now only “a mere youth.” But he was now performing like a much older, veteran officer by providing inspiration and encouraging the Third Virginia Continentals down the sloping ground along both sides of King Street.

  Tall and gangly, Monroe was a studious, cerebral intellectual with a penchant for devouring the ancient classics. From the fertile farmlands of Virginia’s Northern Neck, the shy, modest young man with an amiable disposition had enrolle
d at William and Mary College, Williamsburg, Virginia, as a sixteen-year-old youth during the summer of 1774 in what now seemed like a lifetime ago to these Virginia Continentals. In January 1776, Monroe departed William and Mary College to fight for liberty, enlisting at the first opportunity. Of Welsh and Scottish ancestry, he had then served as a promising cadet in the Third Virginia Continental Regiment under the grizzled French and Indian War veteran Hugh Mercer, who was his Fredericksburg neighbor.

  Young Monroe was born along brackish Monroe’s Creek, a small tidal tributary stream of the Potomac River, that flowed east through the Northern Neck countryside of Westmoreland County, before entering the Potomac’s wide waters. Here, he had swum and hunted as a younger man, which had helped to transform him into a robust officer at a time, when epidemics of disease had unmercifully decimated Washington’s officer corps. Monroe was the promising son of an industrious carpenter, who knew Washington as a friend. Therefore, General Washington was long familiar with the young, unassuming officer, of so much potential, and his Northern Neck family.

  Meanwhile, Monroe shouted encouragement at the head of his howling Old Dominion soldiers who continued to rush south along the sides of King Street, surging closer toward Engelhardt’s two artillery pieces. Both he and Captain Washington led the charge down the sloping ground and toward Rall’s headquarters, located below Petty’s Run, on the run. When Captain Washington’s vanguard first suddenly surged downhill, the German cannoneers were yet attempting in vain to knock out Captain Forrest’s guns. Demonstrating spirited resistance, Engelhardt’s gunners continued to duel with the Pennsylvania artillery on their own without either infantry or artillery support. Unfortunately for the hard-fighting lieutenant, the two three-pounders of the von Lossberg Regiment, which had not yet been deployed on King Street, were not firing toward the heights in direct support of Engelhardt’s exposed position.

  Soon to be manned by the Knyphausen Regiment artillerymen, these two bronze guns were located in the churchyard of Anglican Church, nestled between King and Queen Streets and nearly opposite Rall’s headquarters. During the confusion caused by Washington’s surprise attack, these cannon were not advanced north to join the Rall Regiment’s guns for an early, all-important concentration of firepower so desperately needed by Rall from the beginning. Destined to remain at the vortex of the struggle for Trenton’s possession, this small Anglican Church, established in 1703, was located on the east side of King Street in the block between Church and Pinkerton’s Alleys. In a strange way, the civil war between the Germans in America that was now being played out in Trenton’s snow-blown streets mirrored the congregation’s own deep divisions between Loyalist and patriot, resulting in the church’s closure in July 1776.

  During the wild dash south, meanwhile, Captain Washington and Lieutenant Monroe continued to lead the onrushing vanguard of yelling Virginians down the slope while keeping next to the houses. In single-file, they rushed straight toward the two fast-working German cannon positioned just above the little wooden bridge spanning Petty’s Run. In essence, this contest had evolved into a desperate race by the Virginia vanguard to reach the two Hessian guns before Engelhardt’s cannoneers could switch to canister, and the open fire at close range to wreck havoc. Because the raging snowstorm reduced visibility and helped to early screen the charge down the slope, Captain Washington’s soldiers initially possessed the advantage in surging out of the swirling snow undetected. This advantage paid off because the Virginian’s race was also about attempting to reach the Hessian guns before any reinforcing German troops, as repeatedly requested by the desperate Lieutenant Engelhardt, arrived to bolster the two three-pounders. And because the Old Dominion attackers realized as much, this knowledge fueled the swift pace of their headlong surge down the slope at a faster pace.

  By this time and most importantly, Captain Washington’s vanguard Virginians were not advancing alone. Behind them advanced the most forward elements of the Third Virginia, while the rest of right-center of Stirling’s brigade remained poised around King Street’s head in support of Forrest’s Pennsylvania battery, and most of Stephen’s Virginia brigade was aligned in protective positions to the east in support Hamilton’s and Baumann’s roaring New York cannon, from right to left. In addition, a select group of Stephen’s Virginia riflemen and Stirling’s riflemen continued to fire south down King Street, providing a timely covering fire for Captain Washington’s steamrolling attack. These tried riflemen, who knew how to handle their Long Rifles with skill at long range, now provided excellent fire support, raking the Hessian artillerymen at long distance with well-aimed shots.

  Moving down both sides of King Street, the Virginians dashed through the snow down the sloping ground, surging closer to their objective. Realizing that Lieutenant Engelhardt’s two three-pounders had to be captured before the veteran gunners switched their loads to lethal canister, Captain Washington ordered his veteran marksmen, with dry powder and muskets, to halt. This timely respite also allowed the Virginians an opportunity to catch their breath, which now came fast and hung heavy in the cold air in little, hazy clouds. Once his Virginia boys were aligned and ready, the Stafford County captain then yelled to open fire on Engelhardt’s gunners, and especially at the finely uniformed officers, in resplendent uniforms and bicorns, and artillery horses, to prevent their removal. With these Old Dominion sharpshooters taking careful aim and then slowly squeezing triggers with cold-numbed fighters, a scorching fire erupted from the foremost Virginians. A hail of bullets swept the hapless Hessian gunners and their exposed position along Petty’s Run, knocking down frightened horses, whinnying in pain and bucking, and dropping additional gunners into the snow.

  In addition, the foremost of Mercer’s Maryland, Connecticut, and Massachusetts troops and Haslet’s Delaware soldiers, from south to north respectively, continued to blast away with rifles and smoothbores, loaded with “ball and buckshot,” from the good cover of houses, fences, and yards on King Street’s west side and northwest sides, respectively. The hottest fire continued to pour from the southwest from Mercer’s men around the tanyard and behind the sturdy, wooden fences around it. Like shooting fish in a barrel as when these same veteran American marksmen had cut down so many of Rall’s attackers in the bloody charge up Mount Washington during Fort Washington’s defense, Rawlings’s Maryland riflemen, of Mercer’s brigade, blasted away with small caliber Long Rifles, whose sharp reports of their hunting pieces made the air sing. Therefore, raked by the combined fire of Long Rifles and smoothbores muskets, additional Hessian artillerymen fell to stain the snow with grotesque splashes of red while even more artillery horses went down in their tangled leather traces amid the torrent of zipping projectiles.

  By this time, half of Engelhardt’s cannoneers, nearly a dozen Rall Regiment gunners, were cut down either killed or wounded, along with dead and wounded artillery horses lying beside the guns in clumps. Captain Washington’s charge also now benefitted from an earlier ill-timed command decision. Lieutenant Engelhardt had ordered one three-pounder, under veteran cannoneer Westerburg, to hurriedly shift to the left, or southwest, and open fire on Mercer’s fast-firing riflemen grouped together at the tanyard and behind the wooden fences around the small structure covered in snow. In the vain hope of suppressing this blistering fire, Engelhardt had directed Westerburg’s cannon to be loaded with canister. Therefore, the gun’s thirteenth and last shot was directed in the wrong direction: not toward Captain Washington’s Virginians, but toward Stacy Potts’s tanyard, which had helped to make him a wealthy man, from where Rawlings’s Marylanders inflicted damage with their blazing Long Rifles.

  All the while, sleet and snow tumbled down from black, churning skies without a break to meet the rising pall of sulphurous smoke that hovered over embattled King Street before lazily drifting away by the northeast wind, providing a hazy partial screen for the Virginia attackers. Even worse for the dwindling band of German cannoneers caught out in the open, the whitish downpour continued to blo
w into their faces to not only obscure visibility but also to hamper, along with cold hands and half-numb fingers, loading and firing. Converging on their “long-arm” target during this race of death, the Virginia farm boys, hunters, and woodsmen proved swifter than the isolated band of Hessian artillerymen on their own.

  For good reason, Engelhardt’s gunners became more unnerved from multiple fires and the sight of the seemingly crazed Virginians, tall and formidable-looking men from the western frontier who were shouting like a pack of Indians and acting half-crazed in so brazenly defying death, charging toward them with wild abandon. Captain Washington’s onrushing men now benefitted from the fact that Westerburg’s cannon, which had been just turned southwest to fire on the tanyard, was yet in the process of being shifted back to face north and fire upon them, consuming more time to save Virginia lives. Meanwhile, the savvy Virginians continued to perform like urban warfare experts, smartly sticking close to the row of brick and wood-frame houses to avoid the blasts of cannonfire. To escape the howling Virginians, a handful of Hessian cannoneers threw down handspikes, rammers, and sponge-staffs, deserting their artillery pieces and running away. Unable to get both of his bronze three-pounders once again simultaneously firing north in unison and in time, Lieutenant Engelhardt shortly realized that he and his men were doomed.