All in all, Washington was about to undertake what was actually a most prudent gamble with so much at stake. By relying upon stealth and the element of surprise, Washington, consequently, planned to completely overpower Rall’s brigade as swiftly as possible, before these elite German troops had a chance to counterattack with their customary aggressiveness. And this most vital of tactical objectives could best be secured by an early application of an overwhelming amount of massed artillery firepower concentrated along the high ground north of Trenton to hit the Hessian garrison early and as hard as possible and then to unleash infantry assaults from multiple directions simultaneously.
Washington, consequently, had gathered every available gun and brought all of his artillery across the river not just to support the upcoming attack, but also to blast neatly aligned Hessian formation to pieces before they could launch a counterstroke. With such hard-hitting tactical views in mind, both Washington and Knox, his artillery commander par excellence, wanted to unleash even more firepower than the available eighteen cannon, however. Therefore, a specially picked detachment of seasoned artillerymen advanced near the head of both assault columns. These well-trained cannoneers, not assigned artillery pieces, now carried extra artillery equipment to man any captured Hessian three-pounders. In fact, Washington’s farsighted desire to secure additional cannon on the battlefield played an early role in his decision to attack Trenton. After all, by capturing all the artillery (half a dozen guns) of the Rall brigade, then the commander-in-chief would be able to provide his artillery-short army with more than 30 percent more guns to raise the total strength of Knox’s artillery arm from eighteen to twenty-four field pieces.
Captains Hamilton’s and Baumann’s artillery units—now at the head of Mercer’s and Stirling’s brigade, respectively—had been originally raised by New York to defend the strategic Hudson Highlands, located north of New York City and nestled between that cosmopolitan city and Albany, New York. But now these two New York artillery units were assigned to Greene’s Second Division column so that these well-served guns would be engaged side-by-side once the battle opened. At this time, Baumann’s artillery command, in which a German-born commander led primarily non-German cannoneers, was Knox’s second largest artillery unit with eighty gunners. Meanwhile, Captain Moulder’s Philadelphia unit of three four-pounders possessed the largest number of cannoneers, with eighty-five artillerymen. However, by this time, Lieutenant Cuthbert’s artillerymen of Moulder’s company, whose members hailed from the gritty east Philadelphia waterfront, were the most worn-out of any of Washington’s gunners, after their efforts in assisting Glover’s Marblehead mariners ferrying hundreds of troops during the nightmarish Delaware crossing.
What was also tactically significant was the fact that the forward-thinking Washington retained the smallest artillery units, or lightest, in terms of manpower for the main attack column to ensure greater mobility and tactical flexibility, once the battle at Trenton erupted in all its fury. Indeed, Captain Hamilton’s command possessed the least number of artillerymen with only thirty-six cannoneers but perhaps as low as thirty-two, while the next smallest artillery command was Forrest’s “long-arm” company with fifty-two gunners. Clearly, as revealed by his careful placement of artillery with each column, Washington fully appreciated how the key to determine the forthcoming engagement’s outcome called for the simple equation and tactical requirement that meant getting his largest and best cannon to the front and deployed as quickly as possible on the high ground just north of Trenton to command the entire town.
With a keen eye for topography after having earlier passed through Trenton during the early December withdrawal, Washington had kept the important topographical knowledge of the exact location of the best and most advantageous high ground situated north of Trenton in his mind. He knew that this lofty perch on the town’s northern outskirts was about to become the battlefield’s key if he could catch the Hessians by surprise and first place Knox’s artillery atop the commanding heights to dominate the entire town and the river valley below. Therefore, only the most reliable, flexible, and maneuverable artillery unit, with the largest size guns—Captain Forrest’s six-pounders and the five and a half-inch howitzers—were employed at the head of Greene’s main column, proper, so that it would be the first to unleash this formidable firepower from a high ground perch as soon as possible at the battle’s beginning.73
Amid the bitter cold and oppressive pall of apprehension surrounding the frozen crossroads at Birmingham, while the snow continued to softly cascade down in silence and the winter winds blew unceasingly to make blankets now covering soldiers flap, Washington made other final last-minute preparations and adjustments. Knowing that no detail could be overlooked, he now seemed to be everywhere at once, while his men now either rested on muskets or tried to force back some feeling to cold-numbed feet in the frigid darkness.
By this time, the early stages of frostbite was setting in and affecting outermost extremities of a good many soldiers. Blood veins in limbs narrowed, with blood flowing from hands and feet to the heart for protecting the body from the intense cold, leaving human tissue vulnerable to actual freezing. Washington’s long-suffering troops were now tired almost beyond endurance. Some soldiers thought about little but sleep, after mind-numbing fatigue had slowly eaten away at the morale and stamina.
From high-ranking general to lowly private, these young men and boys found no answer about how to stay warm. Here, at the darkened, obscure crossroads of Birmingham consumed by the storm’s wrath and heightened apprehension, Washington’s soldiers mustered their last ounces of strength and stamina for the many stiff challenges yet ahead. Some soldiers, most likely Glover’s seamen because of their strenuous crossing efforts that had spanned too many hours to remember, perhaps now catnapped on the cold ground around the Birmingham crossroads, ignoring the steadily piling up of the snow around them in their mind-numbing fatigue.
Never more alert or vigilant despite the cold and misery, Washington continued to leave nothing to chance. He made sure that at least two mounted guides, local “farmers,” but also including Hunterdon County militiamen, would continue to lead the advance at the head of each column, once he gave the final order to move out into more unknown countryside north of Trenton bathed in white. All the while, young soldiers became increasingly more anxious, not knowing what to expect in the hours ahead. They thought of God and far-away homes and families, who had just celebrated Christmas, in these frozen moments at the lonely Birmingham crossroads.
Much had to be on Captain John Mott’s anxiety-ridden mind while he continued to serve as a knowledgeable guide because he knew the Trenton area so well. A member of Gates’s northern army, he had been recently scouring Hunterdon County to recruit men for the New Jersey Line. Mott lived near the Hermitage, the stately home of Philemon Dickinson situated on the river bottoms and located just south of the River Road, northwest of Trenton and about two-thirds of the way down the River Road from Birmingham to Trenton. Much like General Greene, Mott had forsaken the core pacifist beliefs of his Quaker roots to engage in America’s struggle for liberty. Like so many other New Jersey soldiers, he had some very personal scores to settle with the Hessians. Now haunted by those searing memories of the hated invaders, he had only recently defended his home and family against a forging party of half a dozen Hessians. Mott had killed two Teutonic intruders with his family under threat on Sunday December 22. However, Mott’s spirited defense of home and family came at a high price. Mott had been forced to flee for his life to escape the inevitable retaliation. He then rejoined Washington’s Army to avenge his family’s suffering.
While the dropping snow and whipping winds swirled around the forlorn hamlet of Birmingham, Washington continued to make last-minute precautions at the crossroads amid the seemingly haunted forests—silent, eerie, and blackened in the night—northwest of Trenton. Washington ordered that all flaming torches, which had been set up on artillery carriages to enhance visibi
lity for gunners in transporting the artillery pieces, be extinguished to ensure that the final descent upon Trenton would not be betrayed to any advanced enemy scouts or patrols. As throughout the night, no single detail was too small for Washington’s careful calculation or meticulous consideration. Stemming from his experience in managing the vast acreage of Mount Vernon, Washington’s eye for minutiae and exact detail was absolutely essential for any future tactical success, and the commander-in-chief was excelling in this crucial regard. But more important and seemingly for the first time on this early December 26 that seemed preordained for yet another American fiasco, the gods of war, luck, or fortune now began to smile upon Washington, because no such formidable natural obstacles, as Jacob’s Creek or Ewing’s Creek, now lay threateningly before either Greene’s or Sullivan’s columns for the remainder of the march to Trenton.74
Far ahead to the southeast and north of Trenton, meanwhile, Captain Washington’s advance party of Virginians gained possession of the Pennington Road and an advanced point along the Princeton Road, setting up blocking positions. In Lieutenant Monroe’s words: “Captain Washington executed his orders faithfully. He soon took possession of the point to which he was ordered, and holding it through the night, intercepted and made prisoners of many who were passing in directions to and from Trenton.”75
Meanwhile, after having already established a blocking force on the River Road, Captain Flahaven’s New Jersey Continentals were reassigned to the head of Sullivan’s column to lead the advance down the River Road. Despite their weariness, Flahaven’s half-frozen New Jersey boys once again headed off through the falling snow on their own, disappearing into the cold darkness while venturing down the River Road, before Sullivan’s First Division advanced. Both column’s advance parties—seasoned Virginians under Captain Washington and less experienced, but capable, New Jersey boys under Captain Flahaven—accomplished their key missions of keeping Trenton effectively cut off from the outside world on three sides, north, west, and east, until only the town’s southern end (which Ewing’s Pennsylvania militia was to have closed) remained open thanks to the stone bridge across the Assunpink. Eventually, both advanced detachments, consisting of around forty men apiece, eventually reunited with each of Washington’s columns below, or south of, the village of Birmingham, to lead Greene’s and Sullivan’s late-comers, from east to west, down their respective roads leading to Trenton and a rendezvous with destiny.76
Finally, after his soldiers rested in the swirling snow at the silent Birmingham crossroads, about halfway to their ultimate strategic objective, in preparation for the final descent upon Trenton, Washington barked out the long-awaited order for the troops of both columns, or divisions, to prepare to move out. Despite being sick, worn-out, or hoarse, young and middle-aged Continental officers shouted orders for all to hear. In a manner not seen in the British Army, Washington’s officers then walked among their men to make sure that everyone was up and in their assigned place in column, while snowflakes tumbled down.
For the final push to Trenton, these experienced leaders, who voiced Washington’s no-nonsense directive, now reminded their ragged soldiers that “no man is to quit his Ranks on pain of instant punishment.” Some sleeping soldiers, curled up on the snowy ground to stay as warm as possible in what almost appeared to be fetal positions, were awakened by their officers only with some difficulty. These men finally emerged from deep sleeps, induced by the intoxicating effect of cold and weariness, from which they would not have otherwise awakened. Private Johnny Greenwood was one such lucky soldier, but he experienced a close call. The teenager had almost fallen into what could have been a fatal sleep, feeling an illusionary sense of well-being, warmth, and comfort that was a lethal as a Hessian bullet or bayonet, after: “we halted on the road, I sat down on the stump of a tree and was so benumbed with cold that I wanted to go to sleep; had I been passed unnoticed I should have frozen to death without knowing it; but as good luck always attended me, Sergeant Madden came and, rousing me up, made me walk about. We then began to march against, just in the old slow way” into the freezing blackness of the windswept woodlands, leafless and cloaked in winter’s brown drabness, that seemed to have no end north of Trenton. Perhaps Private Greenwood’s decision to sit down on a snowy stump rather than on the colder ground saved his life.77
Meanwhile, Washington, just relatively refreshed by a hasty, light breakfast, perhaps including even a few sips of coffee—rather than English tea—to reinvigorate his body, thanks to the generosity of Benjamin Moore at his small dwelling at the Birmingham crossroads, gave final pep talks to his silent troops amid the cascade of snow. Washington and his top lieutenants reminded their scarecrow looking-like soldiers that the situation was crucial, and one that was now one of “Victory or Death.” In addition, it was time for America’s most stalwart fighting men to avenge the disgrace of so many past fiascos and defeats, including New York City’s loss, and to prove the British wrong about their earlier boast that the American soldiers were nothing but “raw, undisciplined, cowardly men,” who could not win a victory.
Finally, when it seemed that all available Continental troops were aroused and hustled into their assigned places in column, Washington ordered his Second Division troops forward at about the same time that the northeaster increased its fury, as if to thwart the final bid to reach Trenton. With “a most violent storm” unleashing a steady, driving “Rain Hail and Snow intermixed,” Washington directed Greene’s column of Second Division soldiers to move out to the left, and toward the east to gain the Scotch Road.
To provide encouragement to his exhausted troops lashed by winter’s harshest offerings, a mounted Washington rode up and down the column to ensure that everyone was moving out and everything was going according to plan. Then, leading by example, Washington galloped to the head of the lengthy column, which pushed toward where the sun would soon rise. Commanding reliable veterans, Brigadier General Stephen’s small Virginia brigade of three regiments once again led the way, lurching forward with grim resolve. Advancing before Greene’s main column in its vanguard role, this hard-fighting Old Dominion brigade now consisted of barely four hundred soldiers, after nearly an equal number sick men had been left on the Delaware’s other side. Stephen’s Fourth, Fifth, and Sixth Virginia Continental Regiments, under Lieutenant Colonel Robert Lawson, and Colonels Charles Scott, and Mordecai Buckner, respectively, pushed east through the drifting snow and toward an unknown fate in the frigid blackness. Selected by Washington in a vote of confidence that boasted their pride and can-do attitude as intended, these Old Dominion veterans served as a trusty, tactically flexible vanguard. Under Washington’s orders to hurl aside any advanced Hessian pickets or any picket posts that they might encounter along the way, these hardened Virginia Continentals surged east with a heightened sense of determination.
Indeed, proving himself a master at matching exactly the right men with the proper missions, Washington fully realized that these Stephen’s seasoned Virginia soldiers, his own home state boys, now operated with an especially “sharp edge”—as the commander-in-chief had fully anticipated—for this key assignment of overwhelming any initial resistance met along the way. Indeed, these Virginia Continental units consisted of some of Washington’s most reliable troops. Conversely, however, these same sterling characteristics, especially a high esprit de corps, warrior ethos, and outright aggressiveness, also explained why the Virginian’s ranks had been so thoroughly depleted, resulting in the exacting of a high price on the battlefield.78
On August 1, 1776, Sam Adams described a key factor that also now motivated Washington’s men in their upcoming showdown against the Hessians: “The hearts of [our] soldiers beat high wit the spirit of freedom; they are animated with the justice of their cause, and while the grasp their swords can look up to Heaven for assistance [and our] adversaries are composed of wretches who laugh at the rights of humanity, who turn religion into derision, and would for high wagers, direct their swords against t
heir leaders or their country.”79
With Stephen’s three Virginia regiments of his crack vanguard brigade leading the advance of the main strike column, Greene’s Second Division under Washington’s personal leadership, the commander-in-chief had placed much faith in the leadership abilities of the hard-nosed General Stephen, and his brigade’s experienced regimental commanders. His faith was well-founded. However, historians have long incorrectly viewed Stephen as little more than a drunken buffoon and incompetent backwoods rustic of little ability. General Stephen’s image has suffered because he was the consummate outsider—a rawboned westerner from Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley, Scottish immigrant who was not connected to the privileged planter elite by aristocratic antecedents, without influential Congressional supporters, and not linked by marriage to any ruling family of Virginia. Additionally Stephen was a close friend to Washington’s greatest rival, England-born General Gates. In fact, Stephen had even advised Gates to purchase the Virginia property where he made his home, Traveller’s Rest. Like Washington at Mount Vernon, Stephen found his greatest peace at his sprawling Bower plantation amid the fertile farmlands of the lower Shenandoah Valley in Frederick County, Virginia. While Washington, as Braddock’s aide-de-camp escaped unscathed, Stephen had been “shot through the body” during the decimation of Braddock’s ill-fated expedition in the Ohio country in July 1755.
While Washington earned his pre-revolution military reputation primarily from commanding the Virginia Regiment as mostly a distant commander during the French and Indian War, Stephen had played a more direct role in actually leading the Virginia Regiment in the field. As second-in-command, this former British Army officer—unlike Washington—had served as the First Virginia Regiment’s acting commander for longer extended periods than Washington. Therefore, Stephen evolved into one of Virginia’s most effective Indian fighters. He had learned how to defeat the ever-elusive Indians on their own terms. An expert at wilderness warfare, Stephen also knew how to “roast them” with partisan-like tactics that were hard-hitting, as he confidently informed Virginia’s governor in 1756.
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