It was only a little battle, but it was a great victory.
The countryside between Trenton and Princeton was gentle to the eye, but frozen and cruelly hard to the ill-shod men of Washington's rabble in arms. The back road by which the Continental General hoped to outflank Lord Cornwallis was full of tree stumps—which made heavy work for the cannoneers wrestling the rag-muffled wheels. Perhaps the General, flushed with his Christmas Night victory at Trenton, was now going too far.
Marching out of Princeton came three British regiments of foot, gleaming in scarlet and gold. These were no mercenaries, like the...
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