Looking into New Jersey from the Pennsylvania shore where the American Army crossed the Delaware on Christmas night in 1776.
What goes through an author’s mind when he visits a site that could be a possible setting in a future novel? I can’t attest to what goes through other novelist’s minds, but I can tell you what went through mine. I attempted, through my imagination, to envision being there when the event took place.
I had such an opportunity on August 26th, 2018, when I visited the spot where Washington crossed the Delaware River with his troops on Christmas night. As I drove through New Jersey’s rolling hills toward the Delaware, I was using my trusty Google Maps to deliver me to the right place. Therefore, after backtracking from the first false entrance it sent me to, I finally arrived at the state park that has been preserved to honor the occasion.
Looking back toward the Pennsylvania shore from Jersey
After paying my out-of-state entrance fee of $7, I drove to the visitor center and enjoyed a short film of the event for an additional dollar. I never know where I’m going to learn a little detail I wasn’t familiar with, so I try not to assume I already know everything about something. From the movie I learned that Washington had a young Lieutenant by the name of James Monroe stand by the road after leaving New York to count the troops. Washington’s army had gone from over 30,000 troops in New York to only around 3,000 that marched across New Jersey in flight from the pursuing British.
The Ferry House view the soldiers would have had walking up the road after landing in New Jersey. The road went just to the right of the house.
After touring the little museum, I exited the building with a park map, oriented myself, and found the trail that led to the river. To my great pleasure the trail was the very same road the Continental Army used to march up from the river on their way toward Trenton. Which brings me to one of my main fascinations from history, and that’s walking in the footsteps of those that made history.
I wanted it to see what it was like to march into New Jersey from the perspective of the soldiers, so I walked directly down to the river and chronicled my jaunt on the way back with photos and by taking voice notes on my phone. I noted that I had expected the Delaware to be broader and I wasn’t expecting an island just above the crossing point.
The fireplace in the Ferry House that Washington would have stood in front of to get warm.
While looking across the river I tried to imagine the weather much different than the balmy August day I was experiencing, Bitter cold winds with ice and snow pelting faces with stinging jabs. The numbness of standing without the ability to feel your feet, which seem frozen like blocks of ice that have been tied to the end of your legs to weigh you down. The misery of standing and waiting without the benefit of a fire to keep you from literally freezing, which did happen to two of the soldiers. Meaning it was a real danger they faced.
I tried to drown out the sounds of people hiking and biking, and of cars from the highway I had crossed using a foot bridge built for pedestrians over that highway.
View of the original road the American soldier’s marched over on their way to victory at Trenton.
I walked up the hill and took these photos as I walked in the footsteps of the Continental Army. By reading signs I discovered more I did not know. For example, the island that I hadn’t known about was key to the crossing, because it was behind that island that Washington hid all the boats that had been collected from up and down the river so the British couldn’t follow.
The river wasn’t quite as broad as I had assumed it would be. However, throw in cakes of ice and sixty foot boats going opposing directions, the struggle would have been magnified making the effort truly heroic.
The ferry house is still standing and open to tours. It was thrilling to think I was standing in the same room as Washington and his staff as they most likely made the decision to attack Trenton despite the delays which would have them arriving in Trenton after dawn.
The ferry house was cool inside. So much so that I assumed it was being air conditioned. I learned that the “air conditioning” came from the fireplace. It seems the fireplace stones were deep enough in the earth that it drew coolness upward which cooled the house. I found that idea fascinating. I suppose other people already knew that, and I should have known, but it was news to me.
As I continued walking up the road the soldiers had traversed, I imagined I was walking with them as a fellow soldier. These men were the remaining 3,000 from the over 30,000 that had been in Washington’s army in New York. These were the men who believed in the cause of liberty and persevered beyond the sunshine patriot and summer soldier. These were the true heroes of the revolution. The men who stayed and fought when the cause seemed lost and because they did the cause was given hope and ended in the victory which became the United States of America!
The thought gave me goosebumps.
A plaque honoring one of Washington’s spies.