erly mass of Hessian
infantry, who had broken away from the main body in a panic, hoping to
make their escape that way.

[Sidenote: Hessians surrender.]

Not knowing which way to turn next, Rall held his ground, like a wounded
boar brought to bay, until a bullet struck him to the ground with a
mortal wound. Finding themselves hemmed in on all sides, and seeing the
American cannoneers getting ready to fire with canister, at short range,
the Hessian colors were lowered in token of surrender.

A thousand prisoners, six cannon, with small-arms and ammunition in
proportion, were the trophies of this brilliant victory. The work had
been well done. From highest to lowest the immortal twenty-four hundred
had behaved like men determined to be free.

[Sidenote: The river recrossed.]

Now, while in the fresh glow of triumph, Washington learned that neither
Ewing nor Cadwalader had crossed to his assistance. He stood alone on
the hostile shore, within striking distance of the enemy at Bordentown,
and at Princeton. Donop, reenforced by the fugitives from Trenton,
outnumbered him three to two. Reenforced by the garrison at Princeton,
the odds would be as two to one. All these enemies he would soon have on
his hands, with no certainty of any increase of his own force.

His combinations had failed, and he must have time to look about him
before forming new ones. There was no help for it. He must again put the
Delaware behind him before being driven into it.

Washington heard these tidings as things which the incompetence or
jealousies of his generals had long habituated him to hear. Orders were
therefore given to repass the river without delay or confusion, and,
after gathering up their prisoners and their trophies, the victors
retraced their painful march to their old encampment, where they
arrived the same evening, worn out with their twenty-four hours'
incessant marching and fighting, but with confidence in themselves and
their leaders fully restored.

This little battle marked an epoch in the history of the war. It was now
the Americans who attacked. Trenton had taught them the lesson that, man
for man, they had nothing to fear from their vaunted adversaries; and
that lesson, learned at the point of the bayonet, is the only one that
can ever make men soldiers. The enemy could well afford to lose a town,
but this rise of a new spirit was quite a different thing. Therefore,
though a little battle, Trenton was a great fact, n