I
favor the theory that “Boxing Day” began when servants, required
to serve their masters at Christmas Day banquets, were sent home the
day after with boxes of leftovers and presents, and allowed a day of
rest. And to the Hessian
soldiers in Trenton, the dawn of Boxing Day, 26 December, 1776,
promised some blessed peace. Only
about half of the German
“Soldatenhandel” serving
the British in the American Revolution were from the poor small state
of Hesse-Kassel But to the American soldiers marching 8 miles
through the snow in the cold and wind, every German in Trenton was a
hated Hessian.
The
village of Trenton over looked
the Delaware River and was bisected by Assunpink Creek to the
southeast. At the northern apex of the town, on high ground, a right
hand road led 20 miles north to Princeton, while a left hand road led
19 miles west to Pennington, New Jersey. From the apex square two
parallel streets angled down hill into the town, forming an “A”.
King Street ran to the west and Queen Street to the east. Both
crossed three numbered streets and Front Street, before King Street
terminated at the “River Road”, that led directly 9 miles north
to McConkey's ferry. Queen Street angled east before crossing
Assunpink Creek over an arched stone bridge. The poorer third of
Trenton was south of the creek, while the road continued south toward
Bordentown, 20 miles down the Delaware River.
Three
regiments of Hessians had occupied Trenton just since 14 December,
one in the south and the other two in the north end of town. Most here were
crammed into the “Old Barracks” (above), built by the colony of New
Jersey to shelter 300 of the King's soldiers during the French and
Indian War - 2 men to each bunk, 12 men in each of the 20 rooms
But in 1776, 36 year old Colonel
Johann Gottlieb Rall (above), was pressed to find living space for all 1,500
of his men, a task made more difficult after evacuating patriots set
fire to many of the village's 100 buildings. And within 3 days of
their occupation, it was clear the Hessians in Trenton were under
siege.
Almost
every day and every night, rebels took pot shots at the German
sentries, and threatened to burn down the buildings the Hessians and their families were
sleeping in. Picket duty, such as the roadblock at the village apex, and the road block on the River Road, which would have normally been the duty of ten men, now required fifty.
Colonel Rall was forced to rotate his regiments, keeping one always
on alert, even ordering those men to sleep in uniform, with their
weapons. The alert regiment could expect to answer at least one
alarm most nights, rushing to reinforce the pickets, or even chase
down gangs of arsonists.
This constant interruption of the men's
sleep was no harmless game. Just the week before two couriers were
attacked on the road to Princeton, and one was killed. Rall sent
fifty mounted men to ensure his dispatches got safely to
headquarters. After two weeks of this constant tension, one junior
officer confided to his diary, “...our people begin to grow
ragged…. We have not slept one night in peace since we came to this
place.”
In
fact, the first night Colonel Rall felt secure enough to allow his
men to relax, was during the storm on Christmas night. But even then,
the evening did not begin peacefully. Shortly after sunset, the
picket guarding the apex traded hots with a mounted rebel party - it
was, probably, Lt. Monroe's raiding party. Six Hessians were
wounded. In response an ensign led 30 men up the Pennington Road, in
search of the raiders. But the wind and sleet drove them back, and
as the storm strengthened and the temperature plunged, Rall ordered
most of the men back to their barracks, leaving a scant guard to
suffer the storm out of doors in two hour shifts.
There
were no Hessian parties that miserable Christmas night, and very
little drinking. There was only the sound and smells of 1,500
exhausted, bored and nervous men in very close quarters, snoring, coughing,
mumbling in their sleep and using chamber pots. As if by divine will,
the Nor'easter had blown its last cold gust just as General
Washington launched his two pronged assault.
The
first hint of disaster came to Colonel Rall in his sleep, shortly
after eight in the morning of Boxing Day. It was gunfire, again,
muffled this time because of the 12 inches of fresh wet snow on the
ground.. Rall was unsure
at first , but when he and his wife heard pounding on the front door
of his headquarters, the colonel clambered out from his warm bed, and
threw open the second floor windows. He demanded of young Lt. Andreas
von Wiederholdt standing in in the snow, “Vas ist loss?” The
nervous Lieutenant stammered almost apologetically, that the
Americans had the town surrounded and were firing artillery from the
high ground at the the north end of town. Johann
Rall called for his horse to be brought out and threw on his
clothes.
In
fact, the town was not surrounded. The militia which was supposed to
land south of Trenton the night before and complete the circle, had
never made the crossing. But a junior Hessian officer, hearing the
firing from the top of the village (1) , pulled the pickets who had been
huddling in houses along the River Road, and led them north to help
with what he assumed was another American raiding party. The
front door to Trenton was now unguarded
And
it was not a mere raid. Rhode Island's Nathaniel Green, at the head
of over half the American forces, about 800 men, had pushed the few
unfortunate pickets suffering outside off the high ground at the
pinnacle of the “A”, and cut the road to Princeton.
Within a few
minutes, Henry Knox's field pieces were blasting down both King and
Queen streets (above), while Green's frozen infantrymen occupied houses, and
began firing from windows and doorways. The hail of shot and shell
ensured the newly arrived Colonel Rall could find no room to organize
his regiments. There would be no counterattack up either street.
And
just as the Hessian River Road pickets had abandoned their post, a
column of about 600 men under New Hampshire General James
Sullivan arrived on River Road, and pushed unopposed across the
broad base of the “A”, even filtering to the Queen Street
approach of the stone bridge over Assunpink Creek (above). Now Rall's command
really was surrounded, and a third of his strength was cut off. Out
of contact with their commander, the Hessian regiment south of
Assunpink Creek, did little more than trade occasional musket fire
with the Americans at the bridge
But
there was an easy solution to the Hessian's problem. There was
another bridge over Assunpink Creek, the Fourth Street Bridge, higher up the stream, north of
the village. A road from here also ran to Princeton. Had the officer
commanding the third Hessian regiment shown the initiative to look
for a way around the American snipers at the Queen Street bridge, had
he taken the chance of leading an attack around his own right flank,
he would have fallen on the American left flank from the rear, just
as Rall was finally leading a desperate attack against the front of that same
American position.
Circumstances
had forced Rall out into the open, to the field east of Queens
street. Here his men had room to form up and maneuver in formation,
and here he could bring the weight and discipline of his professional
soldiers to men bear on the Americans. So, about an hour after the
American attack began, and about 40 minutes after he had been
awakened from a dead sleep, Colonel Rall raised his sword and
commanded about 600 of his men to advance toward the American line
with the bayonet.
It
was the climax of the battle. Washington knew his men did not have
the stamina for a long fight, and was pushing them forward,
determined not to give the Hessians, or his own men, time to think.
So even as Rall was leading his men into the field, American infantry
were slipping into houses along Queen's Street, whose back doors gave
them clear shots at the flank and rear of the Hessian assault. And by
chance one of those shots hit Colonel
Johann Rall in the abdomen. He did not fall from his horse,
but he did slump in the saddle. It was clear instantly he had been
gravely wounded, and immediately the Hessian attack fell apart.
Sensing
the enemies' sudden collapse, the Americans pressed forward, driving
the remaining Hessians back, into an orchard along the River Road.
Colonel Rall asked for quarter, and a relieved Washington immediately
agreed to accept his surrender. It was just about 10 in the morning,
Boxing Day, Thursday, 26 December, 1776. The most important single
battle of the American Revolution had been won.
Total
American casualties for the operation were three wounded (one of whom
was Lt. Monroe) and 2 men who had begun the march without shoes, fell
asleep on the road to Trenton, and died of exposure. The Hessians
suffered 22 dead – Including Colonel
Johann Gottlieb Rall who died the next day - , 83 wounded and
almost 1,000 soldiers and 23 officers, 1,000 muskets and 8 cannon captured. Most the third Hessian regiment managed to retreat 20 miles
to Bordentown, although some stragglers were later taken prisoners as
well.
Washington
wasted no time in New Jersey. Aware now that his supporting units had
not made the crossing, he had his weary men and their prisoners slipped back across
the Delaware River by nightfall. The next day he informed Congress of
his amazing victory. Two weeks before, Washington had warned
Congress “Ten more days will
put an end to the existence of our Army.” Instead, his Christmas
Day crossing of the Delaware, and his Boxing Day assault on Trenton,
had saved the American Revolution at almost the very moment of its
birth.
Sometimes
history is just that simple.
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