Washington's Miracle Poem by David Welch

In December 1776
the revolution was at a low ebb,
the patriots had lost at Long Island
and the survivors through New Jersey fled.

Desertion was high as many soldiers
though the cause had been beaten, and was done,
Cornwallis pushed after those who remained,
less than five thousand militia with guns.

And time was truly on the British side
for patriot enlistments soon were up,
Washington stood to lose half of his force,
if that happened, they were all out of luck.

Washington escaped immediate threat
when his small army crossed the Delaware,
escaping to the Pennsylvania side,
and the British didn't follow him there.

Cornwallis saw winter was approaching,
and thought come spring it would be a short campaign,
a mopping up action to break the rebels,
so from further pursuit his men restrained.

He set up garrisons near the river,
but didn't do so in one running line,
had so little respect for the patriots,
didn't think they dare fight in wintertime.

Washington saw this and got an idea,
garrison duty divided their men.
he couldn't face the British as one force,
but in detail he could raise hell with them.

He set his eyes on the village of Trenton,
where fifteen hundred Hessian soldiers slept,
and due to a spy that he had in town
he knew much about their numbers and depth.

These German mercenaries did fight with
the British for the duration of the war,
they fought against freedom only for gold,
the thought of that left many Yankees sore.

But these were professional soldiers still,
not half-trained militia off of the farm,
George Washington knew that if things went wrong
it could do his army enormous harm.

Yet he wouldn't just let things wither away,
so a plan he did begin to devise.
He'd strike Trenton across the Delaware,
regardless of the winter's cold and ice.

He split his force, and sent half of it south,
to demonstrate against the British there,
to keep them tied up while his main force struck,
he had too few men to risk fighting fair.

Then his main force piled into Durham Boats
at a place locals called McConkey's Ferry,
to cross the Delaware and march from the north,
but from the get-go the weather was hairy.

Winds and snow, mixed with a biting cold sleet
hit the patriots as they all embarked,
for a rag-tag army, some without shoes,
such a raw night threatened to sap their heart.

It also left their powder pretty wet,
but their was something command had foreseen,
and they brought extra artillery guns,
less vulnerable to the moisture's sheen.

Washington hoped they'd make it by midnight,
but they weather slowed down the whole affair,
it was near three AM when all unloaded,
the commander felt a bit of despair.

He had meant to strike from the gloom of dawn,
and it was the day right after Christmas,
the Hessians would no doubt have celebrated,
and he had planned to take advantage of this.

But the die was cast, so his men pushed on,
twenty-four hundred marching down the road,
they split just outside it, Greene to the north,
while south and west General Sullivan would go.

Leading the Hessians was a career soldier,
an experienced man, Colonel Johann Rall,
who'd seen Americans flee from New York,
had no respect for his enemy at all.

He'd not even set up proper defenses,
few pickets, no trenches and no redoubts,
when rumor had come of rebel movements
he laughed it off and had thrown people out.

Now that complacency would cost him much,
for Washington was but a mile out
when the first outpost noticed him coming,
"Der Feind! " was the Hessians' first, panicked shout.

Caught off guard despite the light of morning,
the Hessians scrambled to throw up a line,
and retreated backwards towards the village,
stunned by the numbers of foe they did find.

They sent off some volleys, patriots did to,
as they closed in on the town from the north,
Washington was riding with General Greene's men,
and cheered the soldiers on for all they were worth.

Pressing on they entered into the town,
Hessians shooting from what cover they could take,
but south of the ville Sullivan arrived
and seized a bridge, cutting off all escape.

The patriots spread out, surrounding Trenton,
and onto the scene came General Knox,
the patriot artillery commander,
he knew perfectly how to line up the shots.

With the extra guns that they had brought on,
and Trenton being a town of straight streets,
they opened with a hail of sharp grape shot,
blowing handfuls of Hessians off their feet.

Even worse for the Hessians, militia had
gone into houses that were warm and dry,
out of the wet they could use their weapons,
and a haze of lead musket-balls did fly.

But despite the shock of the surprise attack
the Hessians troops tried to regroup and fight.
Colonel Rall came out to lead his forces,
two of their cannons let loose with their might.

But patriot fire answered back tenfold,
blasting those two guns until they were down.
Rall knew things were dire, then decided to
attempt a break-out to the north of town.

Though Washington still held the high ground there,
and the patriots had taken the ville,
a horrific fire hit the Hessians,
a slew of soldiers were rapidly killed.

Those that tried to fight back found their weapons
didn't work that well, it was much too wet,
and even if they did, they were outnumbered,
so escaping would be a longshot bet.

Then Colonel Rall took two shots to his side,
wounds that would eventually prove to be mortal.
The Hessians, surrounded, threw down their arms
and surrendered, their defeat was now full.

Nine hundred Hessians, killed, wounded, or captured,
a lopsided route no one had expected,
on the American side only two fell,
and it was frost-bite that had left them dead!

They'd captured supplies, much needed just then,
and sent a message to all wavering,
the fight was not over, the army alive,
they could take on whatever Britain could bring.

Though Washington knew this wasn't the end,
and just a prelude for what was to come,
quickly he moved, back over the river,
to prepare for his next move, on Princeton…