Each year, as Christmas is approaching, I think of a Christmas long ago in 1776. The year in which we declared our independence from Great Britain was a year of military disaster for the United States. Washington and his troops had been beaten time after time, and as the end of the year approached the Revolution seemed to be dying. The British controlled New York, the largest city in the colonies and the major port. New Jersey had been conquered. The Continental Congress was in flight from Philadelphia, in expectation that the British would next move on that city. Washington’s army had been reduced to around 3,000 ill-clad and ill-fed poorly trained troops, vastly outnumbered by their British adversaries and their Hessian mercenaries, all well-trained, well equipped, well clad and well fed. Defeat seemed all but inevitable to all but Washington. In this hour of doom, he rallied his troops and launched the Trenton-Princeton campaign, which restored the morale of his Army, liberated much of New Jersey, and put new heart to American patriots everywhere. Washington had worked a military miracle.
The feat is all the more impressive, in that privately Washington was well-aware of the odds against him, and feared that defeat was probably likely. We see that in two letters he wrote on December 10 and 17, 1776, to his nephew Lund Washington, who ran Mount Vernon in his absence: (more…)