Two hundred and fourteen years ago this morning, this was happening, as described in CITIZEN WASHINGTON: The Continental Army reached Trenton as a grim gray winter light began to fill in the shadows. Because of the sleet and snow, artillery commander Henry Knox had insisted on dragging the cannon all the way. they would work if muskets didnt. He had now positioned them. And even though we didnt attack till after eight oclock, full daylight, the surprise was complete.... Brave men on a bright summer day can lose their nerve before a cannonade. Imagine a Hessian with a rum-drunk headache, hearin the boomin of big guns and the screamin of his sergeant at dawn. He comes stumblin into a sleet storm, half dressed and half asleep. The muzzle flash of the cannon clears his mind. So he tries to form up and fight, but the iron balls start comin at him like hes a ninepin on a rich mans lawn, while the grapeshot is tearin up half the half-dressed men in those half-dressed ranks. And all around him, at the head of every street, on his flanks, inside the houses, and runnin from door to door, are dark masses of men...rebels in rabble whove appeared from the storm like feral dogs come to tear him apart, or dark angels come to send him to hell. Twas more than enough to convince twelve hundred Hessians to ground their arms. A few days before, the Hessian commander had called the Americans country clowns. Big mistake. He died of his wounds a few days later.
Posted on: Fri, 26 Dec 2014 12:46:24 +0000
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