The weather, zig-zagging between bitter cold and extremely wet, was now turning to rain again; but regardless of weather it was now essential to bring the three bodies of troops together in some semblance of a united front. The consensus of opinion from Colonel Reed and Washington's other scouts and spies was that the enemy soldiers and artillery could be expected in Trenton on Thursday, January 2.

     Riders  galloped  out from Washington's headquarters in Trenton carrying direct orders to Cadwalader, and to Mifflin's encampment, for an immediate march north to the lower shore of the Assunpink Creek, across the stream from Trenton  proper.  At this location Washington intended to assemble his ill-assorted army -- no one was more aware than he that Mifflin's force was untrained - and to make his principal stand.

     And so Cadwalader marched, and Mifflin's untried men marched, the hard ten miles to the creek-front opposite Trenton.  Rivalling the Christmas night march in the sleet to Trenton from the north, this one from the south was in the mud ...and was one of the heroic marches of the Revolutionary War.

     The Burlington County roads were soggy enough, from melted snow and repeated rains, and by the time the forces from Bordentown and Crosswicks converged near the White Horse tavern the roadbed, such as it was, became soggier still. By this time darkness was falling, and the earlier drizzle was becoming a steady downpour.

     On the White Horse road, transformed from ordinary sand and gravel to a sea of yellow mud, wagoners were doubling up their teams to get through the worst places. Cadwalader's guns, including by his own description "two six pounders, brass, and two three pounders, iron" bogged down in the mire behind straining artillery horses, and Continental teamsters and hostlers sloshed through the mud to consolidate manpower with horsepower in an effort to keep the guns moving.

     Midnight came and went, the 3,600 men in the long combined line of march were soaked to the skin, and the admonition to keep their powder dry became an academic hope. Mounted officers and Cadwalader's cavalry unit, attempting to guide the stragglers, were themselves bogged down and forced to lead their horses through the morass at the roadside.

     The vanguard of this rain-soaked army arrived on the shore of the Assunpink in the middle of the night. With the dawn's early light the first ray of hope appeared:  the rain ceased and a breeze came up, gradually drying out the army and its ammunition; and now the midnight marchers were arriving in a steady stream. Still, it was almost noon before the last of them straggled in, to be organized into a defensive position looking across the Creek toward the streets of Trenton.

     Lord Cornwallis had been assigned by Howe to command the British attack, and his brigades were on the road from Princeton in early morning -- and experiencing some of the same difficulties the Americans had encountered the night before. British horses and artillery mired down, moved forward slowly, and consumed the entire morning in reaching Maidenhead (now Lawrenceville).

     At this point Cornwallis left one brigade as a rear guard, having already assigned another rear-guard at Princeton of some 1,200 men - with instructions that 800 of these were to march to Trenton the next morning as back-up for his principal force.

     Cornwallis and this principal force, some 5.500 British regulars and more than twenty pieces of artillery, finally reached Trenton in the late afternoon. His march had been delayed not only by bad roads but also by several units of American riflemen, sent out in early morning to impede the British advance. Skirmishing and backing away, the Americans took their toll,
and gained time for the main body to form lines  and  dig  entrenchments  below  the Assunpink.

     After  this  running  series  of  skirmishes, extending from house to house through the streets  of  Trenton,  Cornwallis  set  up  his field-pieces facing the Assunpink. Washington and his Trenton force had successfully retired across the single-arch bridge to the south bank, where they were joined with Cadwalader's and Mifflin's forces in defensive lines extending three  miles  along the  shore.  From these positions,  as  the  British  approached, the American guns began an extensive cannonade.

     Through his field glass, Cornwallis appraised the American army. Cadwalader's men were at the left of the bridge, his force extending for a mile upstream. Further upstream to the left, covering a crossing point known as Phillips' Ford, were the  regiments  commanded  by General  Hugh  Mercer. To the right of the bridge, toward the Delaware, an experienced force under General Arthur St. Clair held a strong position behind hurriedly constructed earthworks. Behind these principal sectors, as an extended defensive line in the background, were the newly formed regiments of militia under General Mifflin.

     Washington sat his horse near the bridge, on the Burlington County side. The last of the American soldiers to cross the bridge, only a short time before, remembered the scene and later wrote that "General Washington's horse stood near the west rail of the bridge, and the firm and majestic countenance of the General inspired confidence and assurance."

     The British were surprised at the size of the American army, having expected to see only the original force with which Washington had attacked  Rahl at Trenton.  Nevertheless the redcoats  made  three  attempts,  in  failing daylight, to carry the bridge and also to cross the stream by fording -- massing troops for these attacks and opening the way by heavy artillery fire, with resulting American casualties.

     Explosive sounds of battle filled the January air.  The thunder and smoke of heavy guns on either side of the stream mingled with the rattle and flash of musket fire. Hurtling cannon balls crashed through tree limbs overhead, some reaching enemy objectives with a hard-iron thud and others furrowing the ground beyond. The piercing scream of wounded horse was followed by the cry of hard-hit foot soldier. Fiery darts of flame illumined the dusky
creek-bed.

     Then it was over. American riflemen, taking deadly aim with long frontier rifles capable of hitting a small object 200 yards away, had stopped the  British  attempts to cross the stream. Cornwallis was giving up for the night.

     Washington in faint daylight scanned the lines of the enemy, noting that he was only slightly out-gunned but was, giving weight to experience as a factor, seriously out-manned - which in turn meant that only a moderate rear-guard had been left behind by the British at Princeton.

     Cornwallis, drawing out of range. remarked to his aides: "We've got the old fox now. We will go over and bag him in the morning."