The Life of George Washington. In Words of One SyllablePollard, Josephine
History
The Life of George Washington. In Words of One Syllable
Pollard, Josephine
Presidents -- United States -- Biography -- Juvenile literature; Washington, George, 1732-1799 -- Juvenile literature
In the midst of the fight, a shot struck him and he fell from his
horse. The troops would heed no voice but that of their chief, and
fled up the banks of a creek on the way to Prince-ton.
Wash-ing-ton saw the stir and thought they had wheeled to form a new
line. He was told that they had laid down their arms, and his joy was
great. The day was ours!
But for the wild flight of Rahl's men, it would have gone hard with
our troops. Wash-ing-ton did not know it at the time, but he found out
that Ew-ing and Put-nam had tried to cross the stream but were kept
back by the ice, and he with his raw troops would, he was sure, have
been put to rout had Rahl and his men been on their guard.
The poor Ma-jor, who had in vain urged Rahl to throw up breast-works,
had a bad wound of which he died in Tren-ton; and Rahl him-self, to
whom the red-coats owed their ill-luck, was laid to rest in a
grave-yard in that town.
And where was Gen-er-al Howe all this time? In New York, where he
thought to take his ease till the Del-a-ware froze so that his troops
could cross. He was much shocked at the news that the Hes-sians who
had been brought up to war should have laid down their arms for a
troop of raw men in rags. He sent Lord Corn-wal-lis back to take
Jer-sey, and, as he said, "to bag the fox."
By the third of Jan-u-a-ry red-coats, with Corn-wal-lis at their head,
were near at hand. Wash-ing-ton was in a tight place, with a small
creek 'twixt his few raw troops and the large force of the foe. Back
of him lay the Del-a-ware which it was now not safe to cross.
In this dark hour a gleam of hope came to his mind. He saw a way out
of the trap, and that was by a quick night-march to get at the rear of
the King's troops, dash on the camp at Prince-ton, seize the stores
that were left there, and push on to New Bruns-wick.
A thaw had set in which made the roads deep with mire, but in the
course of the night the wind veered to the north, and in two hours
the roads were once more hard and frost-bound.
That the foe might not guess his plan, Wash-ing-ton bade some of his
men keep at work with their spades on the pits near the bridge, go the
rounds, change guards at each bridge and ford, and keep up the
camp-fires till day-break, when they were to join those on the way to
Prince-ton.
In the dead of the night Wash-ing-ton drew his troops out of camp and
the march took place. The road which they had to take was cut through
woods, and the stumps of the trees made the march a slow one, so that
it was near sun-rise when Wash-ing-ton came to the bridge at the brook
three miles from Prince-ton.
As our troops left the woods they came face to face with a force of
red-coats, and a sharp fight took place, which did not last long.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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