Under cover of high ground, just back of McConkey’s Ferry, on Christmas afternoon, 1776, Washington held a special evening parade. Neither driving wind nor benumbing cold prevented full ranks and prompt response to “roll-call,” as company after company fell into line; and when darkness obscured the closing day, all was in motion. It had been his design to complete the crossing by midnight, and enter Trenton at five o’clock in the morning. He was to lead, in person, and announced as the countersign, “Victory or Death!” The order to march to the river bank, by divisions and sub-divisions, each to its designated group of boats, was communicated by officers especially selected for that duty, so that the most perfect order attended each movement. The few days of mild weather which had opened the ice, had been succeeded by a sudden freeze, and a tempest of hail and sleet that checked the swift current and made a safe passage of daring and doubtful venture. The shore was skirted with ice, while the floating blocks of old ice twisted and twirled the fragile boats as mere playthings in their way. But no one grumbled at cold, sleet or danger. The elements were not the patriot’s foe that night of nights. All faces were set against their country’s foes. They were, at last, to pursue their old pursuers. The “man of retreats,” as Washington had been called in derision by such men as Gates and Lee, was guiding, and leading to “Victory or Death!”

The landing of the artillery was not effected until three o’clock in the morning, with nearly nine miles yet to march. At four o’clock the advance was ordered. The snow ceased, but the hail and sleet returned, driven by a fierce wind from the north-east. A mile and a quarter brought them to Bear Tavern (see map). Three and a half miles more brought them to Birmingham. Here a messenger from General Sullivan informed Washington that his men reported “their arms to be wet.” “Tell your general,” replied Washington, “to use the bayonet, and penetrate into the town. The town must be taken. I am resolved to take it.”

From this point Sullivan took the river road. Washington and Greene, bearing to the left, crossed to the old Scotch road, and then entered the Pennington road, only one mile from Trenton. The distance by each road was about the same, four and one-half miles. Washington moved at once to the head of King and Queen streets, where they joined at a sharp angle; and here, under direction of General Knox, Forrest’s Battery was placed in position, to sweep both streets, even down to the river. “It was exactly eight o’clock,” says Washington, “and three minutes after, I found from the firing on the lower road that that division had also got up.” The entire movement was with the utmost silence, to enable Sullivan and Stark to pass through the lower town and take the Hessians in the rear and by surprise.

The battle was over in an hour. The Hessian troops burst from their quarters, half dressed, but in the narrow streets already swept by Forrest’s guns, any regular formation was impossible. The two guns before Rahl’s headquarters were manned; but before they could deliver a single round Capt. William Washington and Lieut. James Monroe (subsequently President Monroe), with a small party, rushed upon the gunners and hauled the guns away for use elsewhere. Sullivan had entered the town by Front and Second streets. Stark led his column directly to the Assanpink Bridge, to cut off retreat to Bordentown; and then swung to the left, and attacked the Hessians, who were gallantly attempting to form in the open ground between Queen Street and the Assanpink. Hand’s Rifles and Scott’s and Lawson’s Virginia regiments were conspicuous for gallantry. All did well.

The American casualties were two killed and three wounded,—Captain Washington and Lieutenant Monroe being among the latter. The Hessian loss in killed and wounded, besides officers, was forty-one. The number of prisoners, including thirty officers, was one thousand and nine. Colonel Rahl fell, mortally wounded, while using his bravest energies to rally his men for an attack on Washington’s position at the head of King Street; but the surprise was so complete, and the coöperation of the American divisions was so timely and constant, that no troops in the world could have resisted the assault. Six bronze guns, over a thousand stand of arms, four sets of colors, twelve drums, and many valuable supplies were among the trophies of war.

The American army countermarched during the night after the battle, reaching the old headquarters at Newtown with their prisoners before morning; having made the entire distance of fully thirty miles under circumstances of such extreme hardship and exposure, that more than one thousand men were disabled for duty through frozen limbs and broken-down energies.

The Hessian troops were proudly escorted through Philadelphia, and the country began to realize the value of a Soldier in command. Fugitives from Trenton reached Bordentown, where Colonel Donop had already been so closely pressed by Colonel Griffiths in an adventurous skirmish, as to require the services of his entire garrison to meet it. He abandoned Bordentown instantly, leaving the sick and wounded, and the public stores; marched with all haste to Princeton, via Crosswicks and Allentown, and started the next day for South Amboy, the nearest port to New York.

On the twenty-seventh, Cadwallader crossed at Bristol with eighteen hundred men, not knowing that Washington had recrossed the Delaware. Generals Mifflin and Ewing followed with thirteen hundred men; but Mt. Holly and Black Horse had also been abandoned by the Hessian garrisons.

While the American army rested, its Commander-in-Chief matured his plans for further offensive action. A letter from Colonel De Hart, at Morristown, advised him that the regiments of Greaton, Bond, and Porter would extend their term of service two weeks. The British post at Boundbrook and vicinity had been withdrawn to Brunswick. Generals McDougall and Maxwell, then at Morristown, were instructed by Washington “to collect as large a body of militia as possible, and to assure them, that nothing is wanting but for them to lend a hand, and drive the enemy from the whole Province of New Jersey.” On the twenty-eighth, he wrote thus to Maxwell: “As I am about to enter the Jerseys with a considerable force, immediately, for the purpose of attempting a recovery of that country from the enemy; and as a diversion from your quarter may greatly facilitate this event, by dividing and distracting their troops, I must request that you will collect all the forces in your power, and annoy and distress them by every means which prudence may suggest.”