The Endless Christmas Day by George F. Smith When Christmas arrived in 1776, a few Americans gave us the first installment of a gift we have all but lost. After the makeshift American army under George Washington's command ousted the redcoats from Boston in early 1776, the British moved to New York City, where they launched an invasion in August. Washington met them head-on and suffered devastating defeats, and survived only by heading the other way. By the time he escaped across the Delaware River into Bucks County, Pennsylvania, the General had only 3,000 of his original 20,000 troops. Congress, seeing the army in retreat only 12 miles from where they sat, gave Washington dictatorial powers and escaped to Baltimore, 110 miles to the south. With winter moving in, Washington set up headquarters on the west side of the Delaware. British commander William Howe made plans to go into winter quarters in New York, leaving his men spread over numerous New Jersey outposts, ready to march at a moment's notice. He admitted, though, that the chain of outposts was too extensive. Lord Charles Cornwallis, Howe's field commander, decided to garrison the outposts with Hessian mercenaries and send the British troops back to New York. He left command of New Jersey in the hands of the cocky and thoroughly mediocre General James Grant. In the 100-house village of Trenton, the outpost closest to Washington, the 1,600 Hessians were under command of Colonel Johann Gottlieb Rall, a hard-drinking gambler whose troops had a reputation for plunder and rape. Once encamped, they proceeded to earn their reputation. Hessian brutality swung many New Jersey neutrals to the American cause. [1] Making excellent use of spies, Washington led the British to believe his condition was completely hopeless. Thus, when Rall complained to General Grant that his position was too much exposed, Grant dismissed it as ludicrous, since Washington's troops were in rags and starving. Besides, after December 31 Washington would not even have an army, since the term of service would expire for most of his men. Knowing he needed a victory to keep the American cause alive, Washington decided to attack Trenton while the Hessians slept off the effects of their Christmas celebration. On a scrap of paper he scribbled "Victory or Death," the watchword for the attack. Earlier that month Tom Paine had written a new essay that Washington ordered read to his troops on Christmas Day. As the men prepared to cross the Delaware with a winter storm kicking up, officers addressed their troops, reading from Paine's pamphlet, the American Crisis. "These are the times that try men's souls," it began. The men had no trouble agreeing. Washington's crossing at McKonkey's Ferry was part of a four-pronged assault on Trenton. A detachment under James Ewing was to cross closer to Trenton to cut off a possible enemy escape over the bridge leading out of town; John Cadwalader's troops were to cross further downstream to distract the Hessians garrisoned at Bordentown, while Israel Putnam was to lead a contingent of militia from Philadelphia into New Jersey as another distraction. But none of them made it. Putnams's troops didn't march, Ewing couldn't get his men across, and Cadwalader could get his men over but not the artillery -- the ice floes proved overwhelming. Washington, fortunately, had John Glover and the Fourteenth Continental, a unit composed of rugged and well-disciplined fishermen from Marblehead, Massachusetts. They had already pulled the General out of a jam back in August, on Long Island, where they rowed the American army out of Howe's grasp under cover of darkness and fog. To ferry about 2,400 men to the New Jersey side of the Delaware, a distance of roughly a thousand feet, Glover used big, black Durham boats, which ranged in length from forty to sixty feet. A small company called the Durham Iron Works had begun building the boats in 1757 for transporting ore, pig iron, grain, whiskey, and produce from upcountry down the Delaware rapids into Philadelphia. After disgorging their cargo, the crew of six would load up with manufactured goods and pole the boats back upstream. Looking like big canoes with slightly pointed ends, the boats had an eight-foot beam and a light draft. Even when fully loaded they drew only twenty-four to thirty inches, which meant they could get close enough to shore for the troops to wade the rest of the way. The heavily laden boats began pushing off from McKonkey's Ferry around two in the afternoon on Christmas Day. The surging Delaware current sent chunks of ice at them like "white torpedoes," smashing the sides of the craft and snarling their progress. [2] Snow, wind, and darkness compounded Glover's difficulties. Meanwhile, in Trenton, Rall had eaten a hearty meal and retired for a game of cards with a few of his aides and his host, a man named Abraham Hunt. Shortly after midnight a shivering Loyalist from Pennsylvania showed up at Hunt's door with a written message, handing it to a servant. Rall refused to be disturbed and tucked the note into his waistcoat pocket without reading it. By 3:00 a.m. Glover's Fourteenth had ferried men, horses, and artillery across the river. It took another hour to round up the troops and begin the nine-mile march to Trenton along River Road. Washington, from his tall chestnut horse, urged his men to keep moving and stay with their officers. Two men stopped to rest -- and froze to death. When they arrived at Trenton at 8:00 a.m. the General gave the order to storm the town. As the men fell upon the enemy, many of them shouted, "This is the time to try men's souls!" [3] With their muskets' priming pans soaked from the snowstorm, the Americans relied on the bayonet and artillery to roust the Hessians out of the houses. Sodden from the previous night's celebrations, Hessians threw on their coats and tried to form ranks in the streets. As they stumbled about, Henry Knox's six-pounders cut them down from the high end of Trenton's two main streets. Rall finally broke from the Hunt house, jumped on his horse and galloped toward his regiment, which was being showered with grapeshot. "Lord, Lord, what is it, what is it?" he cried out repeatedly. His world had become a swirl of snow, shouts, smoke, and explosions. [4] As he tried desperately to organize a bayonet charge, he was shot twice and fell from his horse. While the battle raged on, two soldiers assisted him into a Methodist Church, where, in his final moments, he read the note tucked in his pocket: the American army was marching on Trenton. Minutes later the Hessians surrendered. The Americans had suffered four casualties to the enemy's 25-30 killed and about 80 wounded. It took Washington twelve hours to recross the Delaware with captured weapons, supplies, and over 900 prisoners. When the Continental troops finally collapsed into their tents, they had gone forty-eight hours without food, almost as long without sleep, and had marched twenty-five miles in freezing weather. They also won a critical victory for independence. While no war is good, defensive wars are sometimes necessary. Our forefathers knew this. That's why some of them went marching, 227 years ago. References 1. Randall, Willard Sterne, George Washington: A Life , Owl Books, Henry Holt & Company, New York, 1998, p. 321. 2. Billias , George Athan , "The Battle of Trenton: The River Crossing," http://1-14th.com/HistTrentonCross.htm 3. Rothbard, Murray N., Conceived in Liberty , Vol. IV, Mises Institute, Auburn, Alabama, 1999, pp. 198-199. 4. Ketchum, Richard M., The Winter Soldiers: The Battles for Trenton and Princeton, Owl Books, Henry Holt and Company, New York, 1999, p. 261. ***A Maupin ancestor of mine was a runner for George Washington. Sandi