From Lexington to Trenton

Arnold's column is shattered in fierce street fighting during the Battle of Quebec
Charles William Jefferys

After finishing Rick Atkinson's first volume of his American Revolution trilogy a while back (available here), I was searching through my library for something else to read, preferably something about the Revolution. I had forgotten that I had this book in my library -

(Available here)

Written in 1952, i.e. before Your Humble Scribe first arrived on this planet, that blurb on the bottom of the front cover is accurate. This is my second time through this most excellent work. As I mentioned in an email to one of our gentle readers, I have little time for reading these days, what I would have made short work of a few months ago, now takes forever. I manage to get in only a few pages a day, which annoys me. I used to read voraciously, another excuse, no doubt, as to why I should retire sooner, rather than later. (Besides which I have a book - or two - myself which yearns to be free from the dark recesses of my mind...)

All that being said, the period of American history from April of 1775 to December of 1776 is one I can never get enough of, no matter how many books I read on the subject. From that bright spring day outside of Boston to that winter darkness on the banks of the Delaware River, the struggles of our forefathers to create this nation never cease to amaze and inspire me. Especially considering the utter nonsense being propagated amongst the citizenry in our own time.

At Lexington the British military swept aside a ragged band of armed citizens, they were somewhat surprised that these men stood as long as they did (which wasn't very long, one volley had them running). Those same redcoats received a bloody shock as their march to Concord (to seize arms and powder it should be mentioned) became a very bloody stroll through the Massachusetts countryside, opposed as they were by various and sundry ragged bands of militia.

Later at Breed's Hill the colonials had the effrontery to dig entrenchments (which should have been dug on Bunker Hill had the folks in charge actually obeyed their orders) to actually attempt to intimidate the forces then occupying Boston. "Up and at 'em!" cried General Howe.

Up the bloody slope the redcoats went, three times, before the colonials ran out of powder and shot and were forced to flee. The detritus of the British advance, dead and wounded British soldiers, should have convinced the British that these "damned colonists" weren't fooling around when speaking of their rights.

It did not.

A former bookseller, turned artillerist, led a group of hardy souls to Fort Ticonderoga on the shores of Lake Champlain where a store of cannon was available. These folks proceeded to haul a substantial train of artillery from the fort, across the frozen Berkshires, all the way to Boston, yes, in the winter. Whereupon the ragged colonials (now under the command of an amateur soldier and gentleman from Virginia named Washington) emplaced those cannon overlooking Boston, whereupon General Howe no doubt, upon beholding those cannon and fortifications overlooking his position, realized that he had two choices: engage in another bloody frontal assault, or skedaddle.

Skedaddle they did, first to Halifax (taking with them those who still supported the King, i.e. the Loyalists) and then eventually on to the city of New York. Which the British would occupy until the end of the war, after kicking the upstart colonials out of the place.

Before the evacuation of Boston took place (an event still celebrated in that city), a few folks had the idea that maybe the Canadians would like to be free of those awful Brits as well. So an expedition was laid on to "drive the British from Canada." One group, under General Richard Montgomery, who you may or may not have ever heard of, went up to Canada via the Hudson - Lake George - Lake Champlain route, while a second group under General Benedict Arnold, who you probably have heard of, headed towards Canada up the Kennebec River and the woods of Maine. In winter.

Needless to say, the invasion failed (which you can tell as Canada is not part of the United States). General Montgomery was killed in action and General Arnold was badly wounded (which left him cranky and moody for the rest of his days as I understand it) during the assault on Quebec City.

While Quebec is not on the way to Trenton from Boston, historically it was. The invasion of Canada was the only game in town whilst Washington and his army besieged Boston. It failed but not through want of trying. However, try as hard as you like, if your logistics suck, it won't go.

The Revolution was nearly over bar the shouting when Washington and the other colonial amateur generals tried to make a stand first on Long Island and then on the island of Manhattan.

In those days the western end of Long Island was wooded and rather hilly. Washington's forces entrenched in the area of what is now Brooklyn and positioned themselves to guard three passes through the hills.

There were actually four passes.

Yes, the British used the fourth to sweep the colonials from the field. Though the colonials managed to get across the water to Manhattan, in a very Dunkirk-like miracle, they really had no defenses against the Royal Navy which could sail up and down the Hudson and East Rivers at will. This of course enabled the British to bring artillery fire to bear on any position Washington chose to defend (remember, Manhattan is an island).

Harried out of New York and across New Jersey, losing many troops and supplies along the way, Washington's ragged army of amateurs was on the Pennsylvania side of the Delaware River as Christmas 1776 approached. At the end of that month the Continental Army (for so they were now styled) would be reduced to something around 1500 men. So many enlistments would expire on 31 December that Washington would scarce have an army at all.

Fortunately for him (and by extension, us) General Howe decided to go into winter quarters (hole up in comfortable surroundings until spring came) back in New York, leaving a line of outposts in "the Jerseys" as it was called back then (as opposed to just "Jersey" these days).

One of those outposts was in Trenton, manned primarily by Hessians (think Germans from Hesse-Kassel, entire units hired by the British to suppress the rebellion, I'll write more about those guys one of these days POCIR). Which of course leads to a famous painting and (of course) this meme -

(Source)

Reading of the troops struggling to get over the river, their timetable shot to Hell, marching on icy roads in driving snow and freezing rain, leaving bloody footprints as many of them wore naught but rags on their feet, is inspiring. Against all odds they surprised the Hessians and won a stunning victory. Imagine the utter chaos of that day after Christmas, 4000 men fighting in a small village (for Trenton was small in those days) in the cold of a wintry morning. Cannon fire, shouted commands, the rattle of musketry, the screams of the wounded as the Hessians, tumbled from their beds attempted to stop this ragged horde of Americans charging into their midst. Their commander mortally wounded in the process.

It saved the Revolution.

It should also serve as a reminder to those who think that we're a people easily cowed. We may not be as hardy as folks back then, but there is still a solid core of citizens who will stand their ground if pushed too far.

Sic semper tyrannis indeed.