Standing beside his line of seasoned Virginia Continentals under the wintry deluge, Weedon had no need to make a formal reply to Knox, because both leaders already knew the answer. Mere eye contract or a slight nod by Weedon was now fully sufficient for a suitable response. Known by his own good-natured nickname of “the Ox” because of his forceful commanding presence and hulking size but yet amiable manner, Knox expected no verbal reply from personable “Old Joe Gourd.” All that Washington and Knox now expected was Weedon’s immediate compliance because the tactical opportunity that now lay before them needed to be exploited immediately. Instead of discussing the plan or tactics with Knox or asking about specific details in regard to launching the charge, Weedon simply walked over to his most advanced Continentals under Captain William Washington.6
Fortunately, with the winter storm yet to their backs, these high-spirited Third Virginia soldiers were now ready for their supreme challenge. They hurriedly made last-minute preparations for the hard fighting that lay ahead. As placed by Washington just below where King and Queen Streets intersected to form the apex of a V-shaped formation that widened as the two streets—with King Street to the right, or west, and Queen Street to the left, or east—descended south and down the lengthy slope that ran through Trenton’s center and nearly to the Delaware, these crack Virginia boys already had been carefully aligned by Washington on their windswept commanding position for this express purpose. As previously planned by Washington with tactical clarity and insight, these battle-hardened Virginians were now in a perfect position, aligned astride the narrow angle, or wedge, where the heads of Trenton’s two main streets came together, to launch a counterattack straight down King Street.
However, and as long noted by the Hessians, these free-wheeling, jaunty Virginia riflemen upon which now so much depended for America’s fortunes hardly looked like elite troops capable of fulfilling such an important mission. At this time, Weedon’s Old Dominion soldiers, in filthy uniforms covered with body lice and wrapped in nondescript civilian clothing, were “ragged, gaunt—some barefoot—many nearly naked, most in mud and tatters.” Quite simply, these young men and boys of the Third Virginia Continental Regiment were seemingly the least likely looking soldiers who could fulfill Washington’s vital assignment of overrunning and capturing Lieutenant Engelhardt’s two bronze cannon with so much now at stake. Fortunately for Washington, appearances were deceiving, however, because these Virginia soldiers were in fact “the flower” of Washington’s Army.7
After receiving Weedon’s orders, Captain Washington made last-minute preparations to lead the infantry attack down the broad stretch of sloping ground and straight toward Colonel Rall’s headquarters and the town’s center. Playing yet another one of his psychological high cards, General Washington then cantered over to this seasoned rifle command from the Old Dominion. Having a pronounced calming effect on his rawboned troops, he then shouted encouragement to lift the morale of his Virginia boys, including hardy western frontiersmen from the Piedmont of Culpeper County at the picturesque Blue Ridge foothills. Washington harbored no reservations about having presented the morning’s most crucial assignment of spearheading the charge down King Street to this band of fifty Old Dominion soldiers under twenty-four-year-old Captain Washington. After having performed an earlier important mission in serving as Greene’s most advanced vanguard during the nighttime march upon Trenton, these Virginia veterans were now about to perform an identical key role in leading the upcoming attack down King Street.
Almost as physically imposing as the bulky Knox, Captain Washington was such a capable, dependable officer that this vital task had been presented to him by the commander-in-chief without any reservations, despite the fact that the young man had not yet fully recovered from a nasty Long Island wound. In turn, Captain Washington himself could rely upon the leadership abilities of his able top lieutenant, James Monroe, who was General Stirling’s special favorite and a future United States president. Making a hard-hitting, dynamic leadership team, Washington and Monroe now prepared to lead the infantry charge off the high ground in a desperate bid to capture the two Hessian three-pounders, which were poised in the open just north of Petty’s Run.
Fortunately, the odds were now in his favor because Washington now possessed his finest combat regiment of Continentals, the Third Virginia, at the most strategic location on the field just behind Captain Washington’s vanguard, and exactly where its contribution would be disproportionate in determining the battle’s ultimate course. This hard-fighting Old Dominion regiment had been formerly commanded by Scottish General Mercer, who had endlessly drilled and fine-tuned these zealous Virginia Continentals to create a highly disciplined soldiery. One of the most dependable and battle-tested regiments in Washington’s Army, the Third Virginia consisted of veterans from Fairfax, Stafford, Loudoun, King George, Culpeper, Prince William, and Fauquier Counties, Virginia.
Under the circumstances, the choice of Captain Washington was not only most appropriate but also most symbolic because the strapping, young officer was the commander-in-chief’s second cousin. Before his tense formation of Virginia men and on foot like other lower grade officers, Captain Washington suddenly drew his saber. He now prepared to lead the vanguard of Stirling’s attack, spearheaded by the Third Virginia, which was positioned on the right-center of Stirling’s brigade, down King Street.
Because the ranks of Stirling’s brigade were overextended west beyond King Street and because the Third Virginia’s front before King Street was so narrow, Stirling’s regiment on the far right, Haslet’s Delaware Continental Regiment, after having advanced in a southeast direction to gain the town’s upper northwest corner to fill the gap between the right of Stirling’s brigade and the left of Mercer’s brigade, would provide good covering fire from the northwest to support Captain Washington’s charge down King Street. Therefore, along with Mercer’s Maryland, Massachusetts, and Connecticut troops along King Street’s west side, these dependable Delaware Continentals, just to Mercer’s north, continued to occupy one of the most advantageous position to inflict damage on Engelhardt’s isolated artillerymen, after having already played their part in thwarting the Rall and von Lossberg Regiment’s counterattack up King Street.
Most importantly, the chances for Captain Washington’s headlong charge to succeed depended in no small part upon the amount of pressure applied from the northwest. Indeed, Captain Washington possessed timely close fire support from the veterans of Haslet’s Delaware regiment. These soldiers were positioned in the dark houses and snowy, open yards on the west side of King Street, just north of Mercer’s brigade and perhaps as far north as nearly adjacent to Petty’s Run. North of Mercer’s brigade, Haslet’s northernmost troops, consequently, now remained in excellent firing positions, nearly adjacent to Petty’s Run and Rall’s artillery situated just north of the little, frozen-over waterway.
From this vantage point, the Delaware Continentals continued to sweep the Hessian guns and what was left of the surviving cannoneers with a heavy fire from the northwest. Proud to hail from “Little Delaware” and to struggle for her honor and reputation, Haslet’s veterans were the very “flower of the army” by this time. Once having worn some of the finest uniforms, blue coats trimmed in red and with white waistcoats, in Washington’s Army, these elite Delaware soldiers now wore ragged clothing obtained from civilians. Looking like scarecrows, they were wrapped in dirty blankets, with bare feet bound with rags and pieces of cloth. Even now the distinctive blue uniforms and peaked mitre-shaped headgear, if any remained intact, of some of Haslet’s Continentals made them look not unlike Rall’s grenadiers at first glance. Not surprisingly, therefore, these crack Delaware soldiers had been mistaken for Hessians on past battlefield by the British.
Perhaps yet wearing their trademark sprigs of green from evergreens—pines or cedars—in their hats, these highly disciplined troops from the new nation’s smallest state, after Rhode Island, were the sole remaining ninety-two survivors ou
t of the 750 members rank and file, who had first marched off to war only last August. Most importantly, these Continentals were some of the best disciplined and drilled troops in Washington’s Army, thanks to Haslet’s tireless efforts and efficiency. One of Washington’s finest regimental commanders, the Irish Haslet was a hard-fighting holy warrior who knew the Bible by heart. He had been long inspired pious congregations as a fiery Presbyterian minister on both sides of the Atlantic. A Renaissance man who waged war for God and liberty, Haslet was a respected Dover, Kent County, Delaware, physician, before the war. He was also a devoted father and husband of an attractive woman named Jemima, the same name as Lord Cornwallis’s beloved wife. An overachieving scholar-soldier who had made his American dream come true, Haslet was a distinguished graduate of the prestigious University of Glasgow, Scotland. Although a gifted politician, Haslet found his greatest personal fulfillment in cultivating the soil and operating his thriving plantation, Longfield, situated along the Mispillion River.
This tough and burley Irishman of seemingly limitless ability yet deserved brigade command. However, tiny Delaware lacked the necessary political clout in Congress to ensure Haslet’s long-overdue and much-deserved advancement. Washington’s trust in Haslet was partly based upon his splendid offensive performance beside Smallwood’s Marylanders during the battle of Long Island, and in protecting the army’s rear—the coveted “post of honor”—during the withdrawal not only from Manhattan Island, but also more recently through New Jersey. Then, barely two months before the Trenton showdown, he and his tough Delaware Continentals had even caught America’s former hero Robert Rogers, now commanding the Loyalist Queen’s Rangers, and his Americans by surprise, attacking with the cry, “Surrender, you Tory dogs!” and nearly missing an opportunity to annihilate the detested turncoats.
Inspiring his crack “Delawares,” the “tall, erect and athletic” Haslet now fired both of his flintlock pistols, whose flints he had kept dry, at the exposed left flank of Rall’s repulsed men, the von Lossberg fusiliers in Church Alley just east of King Street, and Engelhardt’s gunners now caught out in the open located immediately north of the wooden bridge across Petty’s Run. Given the advantageous tactical situation, Haslet shouted with glee, “We have them!” Proud of their lofty reputation that they had earned on the battlefield, these Delaware Continentals blasted away with the “most beautiful English muskets” and hit targets with careful aim. On August 27 at Long Island, when Rall Regiment grenadiers and von Lossberg fusiliers had struck the rear of Stirling’s troops on the right, Haslet and his soldiers, along with Smallwood’s Marylanders, had counterattacked to break the onslaught’s momentum and buy time to save many survivors. Therefore, these Delaware boys now had plenty of old scores to settle with Rall and his Hessians.
In addition, many Sons of Erin of the Delaware Continental’s ranks also now battled the Germans for the memory and honor of Ireland. Like so many other soldiers in Washington’s Army, Haslet was a son of the “old sod.” He had migrated to America from Straw, Ulster Province, northern Ireland, around 1757. Haslet was the revered “father” of his elite First Delaware Continental Regiment, which he had organized in January 1776. His hard-hitting Delaware regiment, from Kent, New Castle, and Sussex Counties, was known as the “Blue Hens’ Chickens” in honor of the combative roosters of one regimental captain. Cock-fighting was popular in colonial America, especially Virginia. This popular sobriquet was warmly embraced by the Delaware boys and it later became Delaware’s state motto, the Blue Hen State, which has endured to this day.
During the French and Indian War, Haslet had commanded a Pennsylvania battalion during the British expedition that captured Fort Duquesne in conjunction with a high-ranking British officer, who ironically now commanded Howe’s defensive line of winter cantonments in New Jersey, General James Grant. Symbolically, Hastlet had clashed with Grant’s troops at Long Island on August 27, 1776, fueling a rivalry that yet existed on this snowy morning in New Jersey. When they had been younger officers, both Haslet and Washington had protected the western Pennsylvania frontier during the French and Indian War. Drawing upon the historic analogies of English oppression of his Irish homeland, Haslet saw this present struggle as a righteous war against an immoral invader. Most of all, this former Presbyterian minister fought so that he and his people, included so many transplanted Irish, would never become the debased “vassals” of Great Britain, in his own words.
The handsome Haslet, therefore, encouraged his Delaware boys to keep blasting away to the southeast with their fine English muskets, sending more bullets toward Lieutenant Engelhardt’s gunners, who continued to frantically work their two three-pounders as rapidly as possible. For those Delaware soldiers whose wet muskets could not be fired, they were at least comforted by the fact that they were among Washington’s relatively few soldiers who possessed bayonets in case they met their opponent at close quarters.8
In many ways, this struggle raging along King Street was very much of a personal fight for Haslet and his men. After all, these same Delaware boys had been pushed off Chatterton Hill by the gleaming bayonets of Rall’s grenadiers when they, along with the Knyphausen Regiment’s fusiliers, turned Washington’s right wing on October 28. And now Haslet’s Continentals reaped a measure of revenge by punishing the Hessians to redeem their previous losses and past defeats. Not unlike the relatively few New Jersey Continentals who now served in Washington’s ranks after the New Jersey militia’s failure to reinforce the army, the Delaware soldiers and their hard-driving Emerald Isle colonel were highly motivated for another reason as well. In their own beloved home state, the revolutionary tide had turned in the opposite direction, thanks to so many sharp reversals. Delaware’s government had all but rejoined the Crown by this time, with Tory and anti-independence moderates now dominating the state legislature. The resurgent Loyalists even threw Declaration of Independence signers, like Haslet’s close friend and the brother of Captain Thomas Rodney, Caesar Rodney, out of office. Now that Haslet and his veteran Delaware soldiers had seemingly lost the political war on the home front, they were even more determined to reap a sparkling success at Trenton, because an unexpected victory on New Jersey soil would provide a most timely antidote to defeatism and a political victory of immense proportions.9
Meanwhile, from the high ground, Captain Forrest’s cannon continued to roar during an unequal artillery duel with Rall’s isolated two three-pounders, yet situated just north of Petty’s Run, thanks to so many artillery horses shot down. Despite additional Hessian gunners falling dead and wounded into the blanket of snow, this intensifying artillery duel remained as spirited as it was heated. Gently falling white flakes steadily drifted down, pelting the frantically moving gunners, both American and German, working their field pieces with abandon.
Ironically, the only damage inflicted among Washington’s busy artillery pieces came not from Hessian fire, but from the accumulative effect of the dual crossings of the Delaware and Jacob’s Creek and the lengthy march to Trenton, however. A combination of factors caused too much wear and tear to damage at least one especially fast-firing cannon of Forrest’s Second Company of the Pennsylvania State Artillery. Locally made and hence less durable, the gun’s axletree grew weaker with every shot and violent recoil, while returning fire on Rall’s noisy but ineffective three-pounders. While Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, and Rhode Island gunners assigned to the cannon looked on in dismay, feisty Joseph White, who had been born in Weymouth, Massachusetts and now served as the orderly sergeant in Forrest’s command, described how: “The 3d shot we fired broke the axletree of the piece.” This final shot hurled toward the Hessians splintered the wooden axletree, revealing a design flaw and vulnerability, before the advent of sturdy iron axletrees of the Napoleonic Era.10
A dedicated noncommissioned officer without a single “care about a commission,” Sergeant White was a natural leader. With the broken axletree, the members of Sergeant White’s artillery crew, consisting of around hal
f a dozen New England and Pennsylvania gunners, were now without their beloved gun that they had nursed with such motherly care since the risky Delaware crossing. Therefore, Sergeant White’s downcast veteran gunners felt the cannon’s loss deeply. They even experienced a slight, but palpable, sense of pain, almost as if having lost a prized horse, or even a lover.
While Washington’s other seventeen artillery pieces remained briskly in action in two different sectors and firing at a rapid rate, White’s detachment of saddened, young artillerymen merely watched the “long-arm” duel in the King Street sector, and felt frustration over losing their prized artillery piece. As Sergeant White explained, “we stood there some time idle, they firing upon us” all the while. Then, all of a sudden, Colonel Knox, with some wry humor that reflected his gregarious nature, Scotch Irish roots, and his lively personality that could light up a room or tired soldiers on a long march, rode up to Sergeant White and his band of dejected cannoneers. With a distinct Bostonian accent and hoping to reinvigorate their sagging spirits, Knox then shouted above the thunder of his busy artillery, “My brave lads, go up and take those two field pieces sword in hand. There is a party going, you must go & join them.”11
Knox, of course, was referring to the foremost Third Virginia soldiers under Captain Washington’s and Lieutenant Monroe’s command. As independent, ultra-democratically minded New Englanders and equally egalitarian Philadelphians, however, these seasoned cannoneers thought for themselves after Knox cantered off through the falling snow and drifting palls of cannon smoke. Veterans who knew strict army regulations by this time, the common soldiers felt that they must first obtain orders directly from their own immediate, even though lower-ranking, commanding officer, who they knew better than the high-ranking Knox. Therefore, Captain John Allen, having long dealt with these homespun egalitarian types who yet acted as they thought best, walked up to Sergeant White, an outspoken, intelligent former assistant adjutant, who had often defied autocratic officers, especially if wrong-headed, and emphasized, “Sergeant W[hite] you heard what the Col. Said—you must take the whole of those that belonged to that [damaged artillery] piece, and join them. This party was commanded by Capt. Washington and Lieut. Monroe [the future] President of the U. States,” who were about to lead the attack down King Street. Demonstrating a can-do attitude and tactical versatility like Glover’s Marbleheaders with Sullivan’s First Division now advancing as infantry to the southwest, these New England and Pennsylvania cannoneers now grabbed muskets and strapped on leather cartridge-boxes, preparing to serve as infantry on the offensive.
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