Washington had made arrangements for another division of his troops to cross the river a little below Trenton, to aid in the attack. But the ice and the storm delayed them, so that they could take no part in the heroic enterprise. A general panic pervaded the scattered cantonments of the British. It was reported that Washington was marching upon them at the head of fifteen thousand troops. Many posts were abandoned, and the troops sought refuge in precipitate flight. The tories were alarmed, and began to avow themselves patriots. The patriotic Americans were encouraged, and more readily enlisted. And though there was many a dreary day of blood and woe still to be encountered, this heroic crossing of the Delaware was the turning point in the war. The midnight hour of darkness had passed. The dawn was at hand, which finally ushered in the perfect day.[148] Washington gave his brave and weary troops a few days of rest, and again, on the 29th, crossed over to Trenton. It was mid-winter, and the roads were in a wretched condition. But it was necessary to be regardless of cold and hunger, and of exhaustion, in the endeavor to reclaim the Jerseys from the cruel foe. Not a Briton or a Hessian was to be seen. The enemy had drawn off from their scattered cantonments, and were concentrating all their forces at Princeton. Lord Cornwallis, greatly chagrined at the defeat, rallied about eight thousand men at Princeton. General Howe was on the march to join him, with an additional body of a thousand light troops which he had landed at Amboy, with abundant supplies. Washington posted his troops on the east side of a small stream called the Assumpink. Cornwallis with nearly his whole force, approached about mid-day. He made repeated attempts to cross the stream, but was driven back by the well posted batteries of Washington. It was impossible for the Americans to retreat, for the broad Delaware, filled with floating ice, was in their rear. As night came on Cornwallis decided to give his troops some sleep, and await the arrival of his rear-guard. He said, “Washington cannot escape me. I will bag the fox in the morning.” Again Washington performed one of those feats of skill and daring, which has never perhaps been surpassed in the achievements of war. In the gloom of that wintry night he piled the wood upon his watchfires, left sentinels to go their rounds, employed a band of sappers and miners to work noisily in throwing up trenches; and then in a rapid, silent march, with all his remaining force, by a circuitous route, passed round the British encampment, and when morning dawned had reached Princeton undiscovered, many miles in the rear of the foe. Here he attacked three British regiments and put them to flight, killed one hundred of the enemy, captured three hundred, and replenished his exhausted stores from the abundant supplies which the British had left there under guard.