Tell it? Well, friends, that is just my intention; There’s nothing a veteran hates and abhors More than a chance lost to tell his adventures, Or give you his story of battles and wars. Nor is it wonder old men are loquacious, And talk, if you listen, from sun unto sun; Youth has the power to be up and be doing, While age can but tell of the deeds it has done. Ranged for a mile on the banks of Assunpink, There, southward of Trenton, one morning we lay, When, with his red-coats all marshalled to meet us, Cornwallis came fiercely at close of the day— Driving some scouts who had gone out with Longstreet, From where they were crossing at Shabbaconk Run— Trumpets loud blaring, drums beating, flags flying— Three hours, by the clock, before setting of sun. Two ways were left them by which to assail us, And neither was perfectly to their desire— One was the bridge we controlled by our cannon, The other the ford that was under our fire. “Death upon one side, and Dismal on t’other,” Said Sambo, our cook, as he gazed on our foes: Cheering and dauntless they marched to the battle, And, doubtful of choice, both the dangers they chose. Down at the ford, it was said, that the water Was reddened with blood from the soldiers who fell: As for the bridge, where they tried it, their forces Were beaten with terrible slaughter, as well. Grape-shot swept causeway, and pattered on water, And riddled their columns, that broke and gave way; Thrice they charged boldly, and thrice they retreated; Then darkness came down, and so ended the fray. How did I get there? I came from our corn-mill At noon of the day when the battle begun, Bringing in flour to the troops under Proctor; ’Twas not very long ere that errand was done. Up to that time I had never enlisted, Though Jacob, my brother, had entered with Wayne; But the fight stirred me; I sent back the horses, And made up my mind with the rest to remain. _We_ camped on _our_ side—the south—of Assunpink, While _they_ bivouacked for the night upon _theirs_; Both posting sentries and building up watchfires, With those on both sides talking over affairs. “Washington’s caught in a trap!” said Cornwallis, And smiled with a smile that was joyous and grim; “Fox! but I have him!”—the earl had mistaken; The fox, by the coming of daylight, had him. Early that night, when the leaders held council, Both St. Clair and Reed said our action was clear; Useless to strike at the van of our foemen— His force was too strong; we must fall on his rear. Washington thought so, and bade us replenish Our watchfires till nearly the dawn of the day; Setting some more to make feint of intrenching, While swiftly in darkness the rest moved away.