The Trenton and Princeton Campaign of 1776-1777

By Mark Edward Lender

Cunning is better than force.

King James the Conqueror (Spanish, 13th Century)

The battle is not always to the strong. Certainly history is replete with instances of large and capable armies embarrassed or beaten at the hands of smaller and weaker opponents. Yet outnumbered troops rarely have succeeded against the main strength of larger enemies; more often, they have won through cunning. They have struck by surprise under circumstances of their own choosing, avoiding heavy combat in favor of hitting vulnerable detachments or exploiting enemy mistakes. Smaller commands can win with a plan that takes account of enemy weaknesses and finds a way to strike without warning, or at least in a manner the enemy does not expect. Cunning can, and has, discounted force.

The fortunes of war, however, are notoriously unpredictable, regarding lightly even the cleverest and most thorough of plans. Even with a careful plan, no commander can really know how the enemy or his own troops will react when action is joined. Yet at the end of a winning campaign, it is easy to credit the brilliance of the commander's plan; successful efforts to surprise an opponent, or to hit him at his weakest point, seem preordained or even obvious in victorious retrospect. But in fact, results are anything but predictable during active operations. Helmuth von Moltke, Prussian field marshal and no mean strategist, may have put it best: "No battle plan," he observed, "survives contact with the enemy."

In the ten-day campaign of December 1776 and January 1777, which encompassed the battles of Trenton and Princeton, a battered patriot army employed cunning to counter British strength. And aided by the fortunes of war-luck, if you will-the rebels also made George Washington's bold gamble, truly a plan born of desperation, look brilliant.

Photo Courtesy of NJ Department of CommerceBackground to the Campaign

Through December, the campaign of 1776 had been a humiliating disaster for patriot arms. British initiatives over the summer and autumn had driven Washington out of New York City, and in mid-November, the enemy had captured some three thousand of his best troops and tons of vital supplies at Fort Washington, on northern Manhattan Island. They had also made the rebel commander-in-chief look the fool: the post was untenable and Washington never should have tried to hold it. On 20 November, in a brilliant surprise attack across the Hudson River, General Charles Lord Cornwallis over-ran Fort Lee and began the British invasion of New Jersey. Stunned patriots could only retreat. Washington moved west while seeking reinforcements and an opportunity to make a stand. (A retreat north toward Morristown, which was friendly territory, would have invited a British strike on Philadelphia, the seat of the Continental Congress.) But new troops never arrived in sufficient strength-most of the New Jersey militia failed to rally-and the army dwindled as enlistments ran out and casualties and desertion took their toll. There was no chance to fight, and over 7 and 8 December, the exhausted rebels crossed the Delaware River at Trenton into Pennsylvania. They were safe for the moment, as Washington had brought all available boats over with him to prevent the British from following. Still, it was a debacle; there was no denying the desperate straits of Washington's army.

In New Jersey, the retreat left confusion in its wake. While the colony had not been a revolutionary firebrand, by the summer of 1776 patriot authorities were firmly in control and Governor William Livingston was tirelessly trying to organize the state militia and to cooperate with the Continental military. The rebel defeats around New York had aroused a sense of foreboding, but the actual invasion still came as shock. Hundreds of residents, many bewildered at Washington's retreat and the inability of state government to offer any protection, took advantage of a British amnesty proclamation and renewed their allegiance to George III. Loyalists openly rejoiced, with many taking up arms to fight along side of the redcoats. Scores of patriot families saw their farms and homes pillaged or destroyed, and some local patriot leaders fled for their lives. The New Jersey legislature dispersed, its members now targets for vengeful tories and royal justice. In Philadelphia, which was within British range, the Congress granted Washington dictatorial powers and decamped for Baltimore. Thus the rebel political situation reflected the desperation of the rebel military.

The British were overjoyed. Even without boats, they could have resumed the chase within a week or so, crossing the Delaware farther north or by bringing up bridging equipment. But with patriot military forces and political authority seemingly crumbling, the royal commander, General William Howe (now "Sir William," the victories around New York having earned him a knighthood) saw no reason to press the campaign through the winter. Cold weather, demoralization, and desertion, he was convinced, would largely finish the rebels, allowing him to clean up any pathetic remnants in the spring. Thus, on 13 December, Howe decided to go into winter quarters; he kept the main garrison in New York and established a string of outposts across central New Jersey. The line of garrisons ran from Hackensack, New Brunswick, Princeton, Trenton, and on to Bordentown and Burlington. The general understood that the posts were not within easy supporting distance, but considered that they were strong enough to hold out until help arrived in the very unlikely event of trouble. It was, Howe thought, the end of a highly successful campaign.

He was wrong. In fact, Sir William had misread a good deal of what he had seen over the last weeks of the campaign. Given a respite, competent leadership, and even modest reinforcement and resupply, even a beaten army can heal. In stopping at the Delaware, Howe provided the respite, and Washington and patriot leaders working at all levels of logistics and recruiting supplied everything else. Desperation bred panic and despair in some, but others made sure that enough of the sinews of war reached camp to keep the rebel army functional. A trickle of militia and other reinforcements reported for duty, and some outfits due for discharge agreed to stay on at least a few more weeks. By 20 December, the arrival of contingents from northern New York and New England brought troop strength to some 9,000 men. (Major General Charles Lee, commander of the New England regiments, had been captured in northern New Jersey the week before; the troops came in under Major General John Sullivan.) These would be the last major reinforcements to reach the army before the Battle of Trenton. Washington kept the main body with him about 15 miles above Trenton, and posted the rest in defensive positions along the Delaware from Bristol in the south to New Hope in the north. It was not much as armies went, and the first of the year would see many enlistments run out, but at least for the moment the rebels were not falling apart.

In fact, some of Howe's subordinate commanders quickly learned that the rebels, if down, were not finished. Some of the initial shock of the invasion had worn off, and in northern New Jersey, Morris County militia were showing a good deal of fight. In the south, rebel activity made the enemy occupation of Burlington untenable. Cannon fire from the galleys of the Pennsylvania navy, as well as aggressive militia patrolling ashore, convinced the British commander, Hessian Colonel Karl von Donop, to pull out of Burlington and disperse his sizeable command among posts in the Bordentown area. For anyone who cared to look, the rebels, virtually written off in British planning only days before, now seemed very much alive. If some officers in the field were uneasy, however, General Howe and most senior commanders felt no sense of urgency.

Howe also gravely misjudged Washington. The patriot commander knew that his position was serious, but he also felt that he could not afford to sit on the defensive while his army slipped away and the Revolution succumbed to general demoraliza- tion. That, he knew, was as serious a threat as the British. He wanted to hit back, hoping that even a small success would raise patriot spirits and buy the time he needed to rebuild a proper army. He accepted that any offensive he undertook would be a gamble, but even before crossing into Pennsylvania he had been looking for a chance to counter-attack. As late as 7 December, while his army was moving its heavy baggage over the Delaware, Washington had led some 1,200 men back toward the Maidenhead (modern Lawrenceville) area, hoping to develop an opportunity against the British somewhere near Princeton (where other patriot troops still lingered). He continued his retrograde only when it became clear that the British were coming in larger than expected numbers. Now, he was again looking for a fight. As the general considered the situation, it dawned on him that Howe's winter cantonments might offer a solution. The string of outposts were too far apart for mutual support: what if he could hit one by surprise, overwhelm it, and get away before other British forces could react? That is, could he use cunning to defeat force? Perhaps as early as 20 December (we don't know the precise date) he had made up his mind to try-he would attack Trenton.

Washington's Plan

Trenton was the logical target. The other British outposts were too far away to hit by surprise; but if the rebels could get across the Delaware undetected, they could reach the town along good roads (and run for it on those roads if they had to). Washington would also enjoy a rare numerical superiority. The Trenton garrison had fewer than 1,800 men, mostly Hessians and a few British dragoons, who covered not only the town itself, but also a number of out-lying picket posts. They were good soldiers. The Hessians- Germans "rented" to the British by their princes-had done well earlier in the year, and the Trenton commander, Colonel Johann G. Rall, had distinguished himself at Fort Washington in November. With enough warning, they had a chance to hold the town against much larger numbers. Thus for Washington, surprise meant everything.

Having decided to attack, the patriot commander-in-chief set the date for Christmas night. The holiday, which he knew the German troops would celebrate, might lend itself to an enemy security lapse, or at least cause them to lower their guard. He also needed several days to marshal men and materiel, and to make sure his officers understood their roles. Indeed, even some senior commanders learned of the operation only late in the game, as Washington worked in deep secrecy. "For Heaven's sake," he added when sending the attack orders to one of them, "keep this to yourself as the discovery of it may prove fatal to us." Indeed it would have.

The plan was ambitious, even complex. It called for an assault in three columns, each to move at the same time (or as closely as possible). Washington would command the main body of some 2,400 men, who would cross the Delaware above the town and attack from the north. Just below Trenton, Brigadier General James Ewing would cross with about 700 Pennsylvania and New Jersey militia and cut off a possible Hessian retreat to the south. Finally, Lieutenant Colonel John Cadwalader (acting as a temporary brigadier) would take another force of Pennsylvanians, Delaware militia, Rhode Island Continental troops, and some artillery over the river near Burlington. He would have close to 2,000 men, and once ashore he would move against any effort by Donop to assist Rall. If all of the pieces came together, patriots would hit the Trenton garrison with a superior force, without warning, and with hope of cutting off enemy reinforcements.

If it was audacious, the plan had real weaknesses. Security was a serious problem, as Washington had to keep his intentions from the enemy for almost four days as he pulled men and resources together. With dispatch riders moving between the camps, and with three separate commands getting ready to move, eventually it would become obvious that a major operation of some kind was in the offing. The patriots had an active network of informants keeping Washington inform-ed of events in and around Trenton; but the general had to assume that Rall was trying to keep tabs on rebel activities as well. Thus the risk of a security breech was very real. Coordinating the attacks of the three rebel columns was also a serious concern. If everything went smoothly, the columns eventually would be able to support one another; but if the enemy caught them individually, they were vulnerable to defeat in detail. With field communications minimal ­ and they would be nonexistent once the river crossings began ­ Ewing and Cadwalader would be on their own; each officer could only hope that the operations of the other columns were going according to plan.

The most problematic element in Washington's scheme was Ewing's attack. While he was not crossing directly in front of Trenton, the militia commander's target landing area was close enough to town to make a full surprise unlikely. Worse, the ice flows below the rapids at Trenton made crossing conditions very difficult in Ewing's sector. If he could not cross in force, any of his men arriving piecemeal would be subject to easy counterattack even if they initially arrived without warning. A grimmer scenario was discovery while the column (or much of it) was still on the ice or in boats; even a small force defending the shore could inflict horrendous casualties. A Hessian move to crush Ewing might have left the way open for Washington's advance from the north, but then the alerted garrison could have slipped away easily to the south-perhaps to team up with Donop and turn on Cadwalader. Thus the rebel plan was fraught with risk, and no one embarking on the enterprise of Trenton was sure of what would happen.

Rall was also a question mark. He was arrogant, convinced that Washington was a barely credible opponent, and he even failed to dig fixed defenses, thinking that Hessian bayonets could make short work of any patriot assault. Still, Rall was no fool (and even if he was, Washington could not count on it). A brave man and a competent officer, he took his own security seriously. He placed advanced pickets outside the town and sent regular patrols to keep an eye on activities in the countryside; he also had an informal intelligence network of his own, as local tories offered any information they had. By Christmas, Rall was aware of the increased tempo of patriot activities, and even suspected that some kind of attack might be possible. In fact, British Major General James Grant sent a blunt word from Princeton that Washington was up to something. Uneasy, even if their colonel wasn't, a few of Rall's subordinates kept their units on alert. Thus the patriot general was not facing careless troops, and until events proved otherwise, Washington never could be sure he was not walking into a Hessian trap.

Wisely, Washington projected nothing beyond the Trenton operation. There was no predicting British reaction to successful assault, or even what it might do for patriot fortunes and capabilities. Certainly he could not invite a major engagement with any main force that Howe might send against him. But would other opportunities arise? After Trenton, Washington would have to make it up as he went along, and the fortunes of war would be fully in play.

The Attack on Trenton

The operation opened late on Christmas Day. Instead of being normally dismissed from their daily parade, surprised rebel troops received orders to march to a rendezvous about a mile from the Delaware, and then were led by units to the actual point of embarkation at McKonkey's Ferry (they would debark at Johnson's Ferry, directly across the river in New Jersey). A brigade of Virginians crossed first and formed a screen of outposts around the New Jersey assembly area. Then came the infantry, the officer's horses, and eighteen cannon, all loaded carefully and laboriously into 40-foot-long Durham boats (which usually hauled freight, not an attacking army). The crossing was painfully slow: the boats went only as fast as the river current in the best of times, but now they contended with serious ice floes and a driving snow storm. It took over nine hours to get the army across, and it was about 4:00 A.M. (on 26 December) before Washington was ready to move south from the assembly point. He wanted to hit Trenton just before dawn, but the operation was running late.

The army moved south in a single column down the River Road, which roughly followed the Delaware. A division under Major General Nathanael Greene led the way, Sullivan following with a second division. At the hamlet of Birmingham (now West Trenton), the plan of march called for Greene to turn onto a parallel road, slightly inland, while Sullivan continued along the river. He would follow this road (which becomes modern West State Street) straight into town to mount his attack. Greene would come in moving south down Broad and Warren (then King) Streets. If all went well, the garrison would be caught in a pincers as the troops of Sullivan and Greene converged.

There was considerable drama on the march, especially when it appeared that surprise had been lost. A patrol from one of the regiments in the covering force (Stephen's Virginians) had pushed south while the rest of the army was still crossing the river. About 8:00 on Christmas night, some eight hours before the full march began, the patrol ignored orders and shot up a Hessian outpost just outside Trenton, wounding four men. Washington, appalled, found out only after the advance was underway; seeing no alternative, he pushed ahead and hoped for the best. And in fact, the fortunes of war were with him. There is a persistent legend that Rall and his men were so hung-over from Christmas celebrations that they ignored intelligence of the approaching attack. This is nonsense. Rall reacted promptly to the skirmish, increasing his patrolling, posting additional sentries, and calling out one regiment and alerting another. But with no further enemy contact by dawn, he concluded that the encounter between the rebel patrol and his picket post was all there was to the rumored patriot assault. Accordingly, the colonel maintained his standard security but had the extra men stand down. Had the river crossing not taken so long, and had Washington moved toward Trenton earlier-as he had wanted-the rebels would have collided with an alerted garrison. Instead, Rall's mistake would cost him the battle and his life.

There was another near miss. A patrol of mounted Hessians moving up the River Road toward Birmingham (West Trenton), finding no sign of trouble as it rode through the snowstorm, turned back short of its intended search range. The riders missed Sullivan's advancing column only by a mile or so, and Sullivan virtually followed them back into town. He attacked very soon after the patrol reported that all was well.

In effect, Washington was getting all of the "breaks" as he advanced. Certainly his plan had not called for a longer-than-expected river crossing, a delayed march-both of which worked to his benefit-and security gaffs on the part of the Trenton garrison. It was just as well, because he needed all of the luck that came his way; in fact, farther south his plan had completely misfired.

Below Trenton, neither Ewing nor Cadwalader were able to mount their operations. Ewing, faced with impossible ice conditions on the Delaware, wisely decided not to venture a crossing. An attempt would have been a slow and perilous effort, inviting detection and disaster. Thus there would be no blocking force if Rall's men were able to flee south. Cadwalader got some light troops across the river, but called them back when he was unable to move heavier forces to their support. His entire command did cross on 27 December; but Donop was gone by then and the action at Trenton already history.

Washington had no idea that his was the only attacking column, but his was enough. Action opened around 8:00 A.M. as Greene's men hit a picket post just north of town. Sullivan then moved in down State Street and events quickly unfolded. Rall was indeed surprised. Still, he managed to get some of his artillery into action, and several infantry regiments formed to meet the assault. He was nothing if not gallant, trying to rally his men from horseback. But Washington had the initiative and never gave Rall a chance to stabilize the situation, much less to counter-attack. Rebel gunners quickly put Hessian artillery hors du combat, and as Greene's troops advanced through the town, they fired at Hessian ranks from behind and even from inside the buildings. Enemy soldiers dropped, but their comrades could see very few targets for return fire. As patriot cannon blasted through his ranks, and rebel infantry began to encircle two entire regiments, a musket ball blew the Hessian commander out of his saddle. He was carried from the field mortally wounded, and within short minutes three regiments had surrendered.

By then, both Sullivan and Greene were driving on the Assunpink Creek, a Delaware tributary south of town, and over which retreating enemy soldiers had to pass to get away. The British dragoons, the camp followers with Rall's units, and some of the German soldiers crossed the bridge over the creek to safety before Sullivan's men could secure it. Other escapees had to ford the cold stream or a mill pond, some of them wading through neck-deep water. About six hundred got away, most joining Donop while some straggled into Princeton. The bulk of the Hessian garrison, however, with all of its arms and equipment, had fallen. The rebels took about nine hundred prisoners, and another hundred or so of the enemy had died in action. From the first shot to the taking of the last prisoner, the entire affair had lasted no more than two hours, probably much less. Indeed, the hard fighting, which began when the Americans actually entered the town, may have taken only some thirty to forty-five minutes. The victory cost the Americans only five casualties, including two men frozen to death on the march to town and three wounded in action (one was future President James Monroe). The scant American casualty list was surely a sign of the extent of Hessian befuddlement. The raid was an extra- ordinary coup.

Pleased as he was, Washington had no time to gloat. He had no idea when or how the British would react, and he was in no position to defend Trenton. Burdened with the Hessian prisoners, he pulled out of town and by late morning was retracing his steps to Johnson's Ferry. The army was back in its Pennsylvania encampments by late afternoon on 27 December; the men were exhausted, with over a thousand soldiers (a considerable part of the rebel force) reported unfit for duty the next day. Feverishly, Washington tried to rebuild his force. He sent out urgent calls for militia reinforcements and, on his own authority, offered ten-dollar bounties to veterans who would stay on another six weeks. Most refused the offer and went home, but a core of experienced men remained to anchor the new units arriving in camp. By New Year's Day, the patriot army that had fought at Trenton was mostly gone, and while the army remained a force in being, the majority of the rank and file had never fired a shot in anger. It was with such an army that Washington had to deal with a British counter-stroke.

The New Campaign: Second Trenton and Princeton

The British wasted no time in responding. For the moment, they were unsure of what had happened. In strictly military terms, the Trenton attack had been more of a raid than a battle, and the action seemingly had not altered the strategic outlook. But British commanders were embarrassed and infuriated, and they were receiving conflicting intelligence on what the Americans would do next. Reports had Washington preparing to move against targets in both northern and southern New Jersey. While they tried to locate the rebels, however, they also concentrated their forces at Princeton, including Donop's men, who had reported in from Bordentown. By the New Year, when Washington made his next move, General Cornwallis, who assumed command of the combined British forces, was able to lead some six thousand men against him. He set out on 2 January 1777; this time, he wanted to finish the job Howe had left undone in December.

The target of British drive was again Trenton. Over 30 and 31 December, Washington had crossed the Delaware again-and the weather made this a tougher operation than the Christmas night crossing-and reoccupied the town. He sent a brigade to Lawrenceville to delay any British advance out of Princeton, and had his main force dig in on a four-mile line south of the Assunpink. It was a dangerous position, which placed his back to the Delaware; he was finished if the British stormed over the Assunpink. But the creek offered the only defensible line, so he had to make the best of it.

This time, however, Washington had no real plan. The general wanted to add to his earlier success, but he could only hope that some opportunity-some enemy miscalculation or bad break-would present itself. The rebel commander also worried about Cadwalader. The Pennsylvanian was still in the field south of Trenton, but he was vulnerable. Another contingent of 1,500 militia was due to reinforce him, but they were raw troops and would be little use if the British turned on him in force. The safest move would have been to order Cadwalader back across the Delaware; but the commander-in-chief feared that such a move might dampen the boost to patriot morale that followed the Trenton victory. Certainly it would have opened the New Jersey approaches to Philadelphia, inviting a British attack in that direction. Thus Washington chose to move the main patriot army back into New Jersey, providing indirect support to Cadwalader, and to await events.

It was not much of wait. Cornwallis marched before dawn on 2 January, although it was hardly a lightening advance. Heavy rains had turned the roads to mud, and as the lead column slogged through, it ran into patriot delaying fire just past Lawrenceville. The British, led by Hessian regiments, deployed and advanced on line, a maneuver that took considerable time. The Americans, now under Colonel Edward Hand, dropped back to a better position, waited, and opened up again with an effective harassing fire. Once more, the shooting forced the British to halt, deploy, and bring up artillery. Over the course of the day, Hand's tactics forced yet a third enemy deployment, and it was only after sundown before the tired British finally reached the bridge over the Assunpink. The rebels had fought a tough and effective delaying action.

The British drive then faltered. An under-strength Hessian attempt to rush the bridge failed in the face of steady infantry and cannon fire, and the few troops who made it across had to go to cover in a mill, where they were captured. Cornwallis then broke off the action. There is no doubt that an attack in force would have carried the bridge, and could have thrown Washington into the river or rolled up his line in a push down the shore. Indeed, seeing the opportunity, some of his subordinate commanders urged an immediate attack. But Cornwallis demurred; he saw no reason to hazard a night assault, always a confusing and risky business. In his view, Washington was trapped between the Assunpink and the Delaware; so, as he supposedly told one of his officers, he would bag "the fox" in the morning. Thus ended the fight known as Second Trenton or the Battle of the Assunpink.

Cornwallis was an enterprising and energetic officer, a man who served his King bravely and well over a long and distinguished career. But in not attacking immediately across the Assunpink, he committed one of the great blunders of the war. Had he pushed the assault, he may have spared himself and his country the disaster at Yorktown some five years later. Instead, like Howe only weeks earlier, he gave Washington a respite, and the consequences proved equally disastrous.

In fact, the rebel commander used the time to improvise one of the most brilliant ruses of the war. That night, Washington learned of an unguarded road-perhaps the only route unknown to the British-that would allow an undetected escape. It led around the British left and on toward Princeton, which Cornwallis had left only lightly defended. Washington detailed a handful of New Jersey militia to keep the army's campfires burning and to generally sound as much like the entire army as they could. They made sure the British heard them digging (the sound of a force staying in place, not running away) and even fired a few expendable cannon. Meanwhile, the patriot regiments began pulling out. Not all of the British were fooled, but Cornwallis was, and he was the one who counted. In the morning, he found a deserted camp across the Assunpink; even the militia had slipped away. Cunning.

Washington was out of "the bag," but his next move was unclear. He pushed hard toward Princeton (and, not incidentally, away from Cornwallis); the troops made good time, as a drop in temperature had frozen the mud that had delayed the British the previous day. By 7:00 A.M., most of his troops were catching their breath and reorganizing about three miles southwest of the town. At this point, the rebels probably were not looking for a fight. Washington's command was tired after the forced march, and the general had little idea of enemy strength in the town; he also knew that stopping for any reason might allow the British to catch him, and the furious Cornwallis was trying to do just that. Under the circumstances, marching on by to some safe haven made considerable sense. He ordered the march resumed in two columns, and on roads that could have taken them past the town rather than through it. One of the columns knocked down two local bridges as they crossed-the better to slow General Cornwallis.

Still, Washington must have known that any British moving out of Princeton to the west would eventually see him. Some were-and they did. A weak enemy brigade under Lieutenant Colonel Charles Mawhood, on his way to Trenton to join Cornwallis, and unaware that Washington was in the area, spotted some of Sullivan's troops. They saw the British in return, but before either side could determine the strength of the other, a second American column under General Hugh Mercer surprised Mawhood's men and opened fire. Initially stunned, the British quickly counter-attacked with the bayonet; Mercer's men broke and the panic swept up other patriot units coming onto the field. Mercer went down, mortally wounded. At great risk to himself, Washington personally intervened to stop the flight, and the line steadied as more rebels came up. The British, now taking casualties, finally broke when Sullivan brought still additional men to bear and threatened to flank them. Simply put, the rebels had reinforced more quickly, and outnumbered redcoats fled west, north, and back into Princeton. Elements of one regiment sought shelter in Nassau Hall, which housed the College of New Jersey (now Princeton University), where they were surrounded and forced to surrender.

Like Trenton, Princeton was not a major fight as battles went. At most, the British had some 700 men on the field, and the shooting had lasted only some 15 to 20 minutes. The enemy had lost 28 killed in action, 58 wounded, and another 187 missing, probably prisoners of war. The rebels had 40 men killed or wounded. And as at Trenton, Washington had no intention of holding Princeton; he pulled out immediately, just ahead of Cornwallis' vanguard, which reached the town shortly after the fighting. But, again, the size of the fight and the flight from the town simply didn't matter-the point was that Washington had beaten and embarrassed the British again.

The Battle of Princeton was an unplanned engagement, but an unplanned victory was still a victory. It seemed to confirm (at least for patriots) that Trenton had not been an isolated success: the British could be defeated. The rebels won through tough fighting, Washington's personal leadership, and the initiative of subordinate officers who quickly got their men into action. Only exhaustion had stopped Washington's men from sweeping into thinly held New Brunswick and capturing the British military pay chest. Instead, by 7 January he had led his troops to the safety of winter quarters at Morristown.

A Revolution Redeemed

The main British army, of course, remained undefeated, and more than a match for Washington in any general engagement- but it hardly mattered. The successive defeats of the Trenton and Princeton detachments had left British commanders embarrassed and off balance, and, unsure of Washington's next move, Howe gave up most of his New Jersey outposts. For the rest of the winter, the royal army held only a narrow strip of territory between Perth Amboy and New Brunswick. Sir William never felt strong enough to strike north, and Washington used the winter at Morristown to rebuild Continental ranks. The Crown had lost forever the chance to catch Washing-ton while he was reorganizing, and a new Continental Army was ready to fight in the spring. There were important political implications as well. With the British retreat, patriot civil officials reasserted their authority with a vengeance. Tories were cowed into submission or driven into exile, and their fate demonstrated to loyalists everywhere that they were safe nowhere beyond the immediate presence of British troops. By the spring of 1777, New Jersey loyalists were as embittered and demoralized as their patriot neighbors were reanimated.

Without question, then, Washington's "Christmas Campaign" the battles at Trenton and Princeton must stand as one of the stellar feats of American arms. Certainly the fortunes of war aided Washington's plans, but much of his good fortune derived from his doing the unexpected and catching his stronger and overconfident enemy off guard. In strictly military terms, they were small victories, won through cunning and never touching the main force of the enemy; but they had made Washington look brilliant, virtually anointing the general as the embodiment of the cause. Trenton and Princeton had produced a hero when the rebels most needed one. They also restored patriot morale and braced the will to fight on; and in so doing, they did nothing less than save the Revolution.

Mark Edward Lender is a professor of history and associate dean of the Nathan Weiss College of Graduate Studies at Kean University. He is co-editor of New Jersey Heritage magazine. An earlier version of this article appeared in the New Jersey State Museum catalogue accompanying the George Washington and the Battle of Trenton exhibition.