by Howard Fast
Also present was a Lieutenant Colonel Harrison and his brother, both of them Washington’s military secretaries. Fortunately, they were fussy and meticulous about their responsibility for records and correspondence. They had just finished transferring Washington’s voluminous records from the Keith house headquarters to a temporary headquarters that had been set up at the little inn at the ferry terminal known as McKonkey’s Tavern, which would also be used as the anchor point for the duration of the crossing.
The Reverend McWhorter was well liked by the senior officers, and for that reason and also because his judgment was well thought of, he was invited to this meeting.
[13]
UNFORTUNATELY, NO NOTES were kept of the meeting, or if notes were kept, they were destroyed for the sake of secrecy. It is quite understandable that these men, packed together in the small dining room, discussing what they proposed to do, would be far more deeply concerned with what lay ahead of them during the next few hours than with making a record of their discussion or with the judgments of history. The meal consisted of cold meat and what was called small beer, but it is doubtful that anyone thought very much of food or appetite. While the members of General Washington’s staff had known to one degree or another his thinking on the subject of the crossing, only now was the final plan presented to them.
The army had been divided into three divisions. One division was under the command of Colonel John Cadwalader of Philadelphia. This included the 11th Regiment of Continental Foot, the 4th Massachusetts Regiment of Continental Foot, the 9th Rhode Island Regiment of Continental Foot, the 12th Massachusetts Regiment of Continental Foot and the Rhode Island Regiment of State Troops. The listing sounds far more impressive than it actually was, for all of these regiments put together totaled only four or five hundred men. With these, Cadwalader had under his command the Philadelphia Battalions of Associators. There were three of these Battalions of Associators and, along with them, two artillery companies, four companies of the Philadelphia City Militia and a militia company from Kent County, Delaware. Again the listing is more impressive than the numbers. The total of all troops including officers was about fifteen hundred men.
The section of the army that would cross the river at the southernmost point and attack the Hessian encampment of Colonel von Donop was under the leadership of General James Ewing. In his command was the Pennsylvania Militia Brigade, consisting of the Cumberland County Regiment, the Lancaster County Regiment, the York County Regiment, the Chester County Regiment, the Pennsylvania Militia and the New Jersey Militia, or what remained of them. Also a detachment of the 1st Regiment of Hunterdon County and of the 2nd Regiment of Middlesex County. All together they totaled about two thousand men.
The main and central body of the army, the most trusted troops, commanded by those officers whom Washington considered the most experienced in the field, would be directly under the leadership of General Washington and would make their crossing about nine miles above Trenton from behind Taylor Island.
This body of troops would consist of the following regiments, under the leadership of General William Alexander, that is, Lord Stirling: the 1st Regiment of Virginia Continental Infantry, the Regiment of Delaware Continental Infantry, the 3rd Regiment of Virginia Continental Infantry and the 1st Pennsylvania Rifle Regiment.
Brigadier General Roche de Fermoy would lead a brigade consisting of the 1st Regiment of Continental Foot Soldiers, the Pennsylvania Rifle Regiment and the Continental German Infantry Regiment. This latter regiment was raised from German farmers who at that time spoke only German and who understandably feared and hated the Hessians more than any other division of the army.
The Third Brigade under General Washington was led by General Hugh Mercer, and this included the following: the 20th Regiment of Connecticut Foot, the 1st Maryland Regiment of Continental Infantry, the 27th Regiment of Massachusetts Foot, the Connecticut State Troops and the Maryland Rifle Volunteers.
General Adam Stephen led the 4th Regiment of Virginia Foot Soldiers, Continental Infantry, the 6th Regiment of Virginia Continental Infantry and the 5th Regiment of Virginia Continental Infantry.
General Arthur St. Clair led the 5th Regiment of Continental Foot Soldiers, the 8th Regiment, which was formerly the 2nd New Hampshire Regiment, the 3rd New Hampshire Regiment and the 15th Massachusetts.
One of the largest brigades under Washington was commanded by Colonel Paul D. Sargent of Salem, Massachusetts. A quiet man, a good leader, skillful, hard-minded, we know very little about him except that he was wounded at the Battle of Bunker Hill and that after recovering from this wound he fought bravely through the rest of the war. He was a man without ambition, quietly courageous and very resolute. Under his command was the 16th Massachusetts Foot Regiment, the Connecticut Continental Infantry Regiment, the Sixth Battalion of Connecticut State Troops, the 1st Regiment of New York Continental Infantry, the 13th Regiment of Massachusetts Foot Soldiers, and the 3rd Regiment of New York Continental Infantry.
Colonel Henry Knox, the Boston bookseller, was commander of artillery for the entire army. In this case, Washington kept Knox with him—his armament consisting of eighteen field pieces. To serve and protect his guns, Knox had under his command surviving fragments of a half a dozen artillery companies. The Massachusetts Company, the New York State Company, the Eastern New Jersey Company, the Western New Jersey Company, a Pennsylvania company and a company of the Philadelphia Associators.
The final brigade was Colonel John Glover’s Massachusetts fishermen. They were known as the Marblehead fishermen, because Marblehead was the hometown of Glover; but actually the brigade was gathered from a number of New England fishing towns. Of the Marblehead fishermen themselves, there were one hundred and forty enlisted men and thirty commissioned officers. Along with the Marblehead fishermen, Glover led the 3rd Regiment of Massachusetts Foot Soldiers, the 19th Connecticut Regiment, the 23rd Massachusetts Regiment and the 26th Massachusetts Regiment.
All of these groups were well populated with seamen and fishermen and were adept at the handling of boats.
In all, 2,400 men were available for the task of crossing the river with Washington. Substantial numbers had to remain behind to guard the various installations and to do other duty.
[14]
THE GENERAL PLANS for the attack were simple and direct. The three divisions of the army would cross the river together on Christmas Day by night, that is, starting the evening of the twenty-fifth of December, less than twenty-four hours after the meeting concluded. There has been a good deal written to the effect that this was done on the presumption that the Hessian troops after a day of Christmas celebration would be sodden drunk; but the actual fact of the matter is that this was as soon as the attack could possibly be mounted, and by Washington’s own word, if it had been possible to mount the attack a day or a week sooner, he certainly would have done so. There has been much said about the drunkenness of the German soldiers that Christmas Day; but since only four ounces of rum per soldier was issued to them—and that soaked up by a heavy Christmas dinner—drunkenness on the part of the Hessian troops would have been a miracle indeed.
There have also been endless references to the fact that Colonel Rahl, the Hessian commander, was drunk as a “pig” at the subsequent Battle of Trenton. The truth of the matter is that he was a moderate drinker, a gentleman and a man of some compassion and breeding. His courage was never in question, and his one great weakness—which brought about his death—was an underestimation of the Continentals, whom he comprehended not at all.
Washington would lead his force across the river, nine miles above Trenton. Ewing would cross a mile below Trenton and Cadwalader would cross at the southernmost point along the river where he could attack Colonel von Donop. Every detail and facet of the attack was discussed in that meeting at the Merrick house, and all of those present who had watches synchronized them so that they might have a unified time schedule to operate with. Washington insisted that pledges of secrec
y be taken.
Washington stressed the order that they must have three days of cooked food in the knapsack of every man. He was determined that if he succeeded at Trenton, he would press on from there—no more encampments now, no more retreats—and turn the war into an offensive movement by the American troops.
The smell of change and even of victory was with them that night. Much Madeira wine was consumed out of the general’s own precious stores, with excitement and many toasts, and when the evening finally wound up, Washington remained awake and dictated full orders for every brigade.
It was well past midnight when the meeting at the Merrick house broke up and the officers mounted and rode off across the white snow, each to his own brigade or regiment, leaving Washington to work for hours more.
Yet, before the sun rose the following day, the events that had taken place at the Merrick house on the twenty-fourth of December were known to the Hessians and in an overall manner the details of the coming attack were also known to them. The crossing had been betrayed before ever it took place.
[15]
WASHINGTON HAD MOVED his headquarters to the Old Ferry Inn, which was run by McKonkey and which still stands today on the west bank of the Delaware. Old McKonkey had the energy and excitement of a boy; he was heart and soul with the rebel cause, and for two days he went without sleep, cooking and serving twenty-four hours a day. He was a poor cook, but he sold his rum for Continental money and never shed a tear over it. So many of the details for crossing were worked out in his inn that he became possessive of the plan and took the position that only Washington outranked him.
Very early on the morning of December 25, General Hugh Mercer went to the Ferry House and discussed plans with those officers who were already there. This was probably immediately after sunrise, or about seven o’clock in current Eastern Standard Time, and McKonkey was already serving hot rum and milk. Mercer had expected to find Washington at the Ferry House, but Washington had returned to Mr. Keith’s house, his former headquarters, in an attempt to get a few hours of sleep before the regiments began to shape up for the crossing.
Mercer heaved his arthritic body back into the saddle and rode from the Ferry House to the Keith house, where Mrs. Keith invited him into the kitchen and gave him a cup of hot milk laced with butter and rum. Sitting there, waiting for Washington to dress in his bedroom on the floor above, Mercer told Mrs. Keith of a dream he had had the night before. In the dream he faced a large bear, but could not kill it, and bite by bite the bear savagely destroyed him. Mercer was depressed, and like so many men who have a premonition of their own death, he took no comfort from her assurances that it was only a dream. Hardly more than a week later, Mercer was killed at the Battle of Princeton.
Washington came down dressed and ready for the day to begin and willing to hear no nonsense about dreams. Mercer, who was quite depressed, told him some unwelcome news concerning the crossing. Five days before, on the twentieth of December, there had been a sudden spell of very intense cold that lasted for forty-eight hours, a cold so intense that in its upper reaches the Delaware River froze. In the thaw that followed, slabs of ice three, four and even six inches thick had broken away and were now coming down the river and in sight of the camp and the men. The upper reaches of the Delaware, where it borders Sullivan County in New York State, cut through a deep ravine. When there is a cold snap, the frost flows down into the bottom of the valley, and thus the Delaware in its high stretches freezes earlier and breaks ice more readily than almost any other river in the tidewater table of the eastern seaboard.
Now Mercer brooded moodily over the trouble the ice would make and how it would depress the men and insisted on dwelling upon the new difficulties they would have crossing the river. Washington refused to be depressed by Mercer’s lugubrious mood. Today was the twenty-fifth, and he was so excited at the prospect of the crossing that Mercer’s misery had no effect upon him.
When Washington and Mercer came out of the Keith house, the Virginian’s young aide, Alexander Hamilton, was waiting for him, and the party of three rode from there to McKonkey’s Old Ferry Inn.
[16]
WHEN WASHINGTON GOT TO the Old Ferry Inn, Knox was working his cannon down to the river bank to be loaded onto the big Durham boats that had been drawn up in the shelter of Taylor Island. Knox was possessed of a stentorian voice, and he tended to use it too much and too quickly. His constant shouting and untempered commands had, as Washington noticed, an increasingly bad effect on the New England fishermen and on Colonel Glover, their leader. So strained was this situation that the loading of the cannon was delayed for hours, and here Washington began the task of peacemaking, a task that would continue, through angry argument after argument, for the next twenty-four hours.
Four hundred men whom Washington would lead personally in his section of the attack were already under arms and in parade, trying to appear as spiffy as four hundred freezing men, mostly in rags, might look. At ten o’clock the first lines of marching men began to move toward the Old Ferry Inn, and by noon the situation at the Ferry House was a scene of wild crowding and enormous confusion and excitement. It was the kind of excitement that exhilarates and energizes. There were no short tempers here.
Through all this, Washington was attempting to keep in constant touch with the two other divisions that were preparing for a crossing downriver. The division under the command of General Ewing was supposed to have almost two thousand men. By midday word came from Ewing that the count was perhaps five hundred less than that and that the river was full of ice. Ewing wondered whether the river could be crossed.
Washington controlled himself. Later the same day word came from Cadwalader, who was scheduled to cross below the bend of the Delaware at Bristol. Cadwalader complained that now, by actual count, he had fewer than a thousand men; and he, too, sent word back that the river was full of ice and that he did not think it could be crossed. Once again, Washington kept his temper and replied only that they were to move heaven and earth, if need be, and get across the river. It was not in his nature to understand why the simple fear of death—by drowning or any other means—should cause men to hesitate.
When he first decided to attack, Washington felt that at least the weather would be on their side; and when he awoke that morning and saw a covering of fine crisp snow on the ground, he felt confirmed in his optimism. But the frost that had begun a few days before deepened now, the sky became overcast and a wet, sleety snow began to fall, very slowly at first, but then picking up. As the day wore on into night, this snow-sleet turned into an ice-cold rain. With the sleet came a steady wind that cut through the ragged clothes of the men and drove deep into their bones, sucking out their energy.
[17]
WORKING STEADILY, INDUSTRIOUSLY and in a most disciplined fashion, Colonel Glover’s men had loaded the artillery before the sun set, and in the afternoon twilight that so quickly turned into night, with the wet sleet blowing, they began the embarkation of the troops for the crossing.
The first Americans to climb into the Durham boats were the Virginian riflemen under the command of General Stephen. Washington could never overcome his bias toward Virginians in a tight situation, and of course this was noticed by the New Englanders and resented by them, particularly by the Yankees from the coastal towns.
As darkness fell, the scene around McKonkey’s Inn changed from simple confusion to a kind of chaos. Dozens of men pushed to enter the inn, looking for the commander or this officer or that one. Inside the inn a blazing fire roared in the big fireplace and warmed the officers, who came in during the night, soaking wet from the rain. Washington’s body servants stood by with a change of clothing for the commander in chief whenever he entered the room. But when they tried to persuade him to change, he shook them off. He drank hot rum half a dozen times during the day. It made absolutely no difference in his demeanor, and here, as in other cases, one must bow to Washington’s capacity for being visibly unaffected by any amount of wine or hard
liquor.
Messengers were riding to McKonkey’s Inn from the whole west bank area of the river and from the two other sections of the army who were pledged to cross the river, and other riders came from Philadelphia and Baltimore. The leading citizens of the neighborhood, some of them men whose homes had been used to quarter officers, were also there, some out of curiosity, some out of a sense of the excitement and importance of the moment and still others to join the attack on Trenton.
The hundreds of men waiting for their turn to cross in the Durham boats were also around the inn, some of them crouched in the shelter of the south side, others sitting on the wet ground in their ranks, resting themselves as best they could, huddled close to each other and tightly wrapped in their cloaks.
After the eighteen cannon, which were all the artillery that the army possessed, had been brought across to the other bank, the Durham boats loaded with Virginians followed. Once the Virginians had landed, they spread out in a great half-circle and set up a chain of sentries almost arm to arm. Tory or patriot, man, woman, child, servant—anyone at all who became aware of their presence was to be made prisoner and held until such time as the crossing and the attack on Trenton had been completed.
In the course of the night perhaps thirty or forty people were taken into the sentry line and made temporary prisoners. Most of these people entered the line with no more than curiosity directing them, but at this point Washington was obsessed with the need for secrecy and would allow absolutely no loophole. Thus, local men, women and children sat in the pouring rain for hours, captive by their curiosity, many of the women and children weeping with vexation from cold and discomfort.