At sunset, since the enemy did not attack, we buried General Fraser, carrying the corpse in procession up the hill in full sight of both armies. Generals Burgoyne, Phillips, and Riedesel joined the cortege. The Americans, regarding the prosecution of the war and the killing of our officers as of more importance than scruples of reverence to the dead, cannon-aded the procession; and their shots threw up the earth around us as we stood bare-headed at his grave, attentive to the service. I have since heard it said that on perceiving their error the Americans fired a minute-gun only, as a mark of respect; but if so, they used shot in mistake for wadding. The chaplain of the Artillery, Mr Brudenell, continued his steady reading of the office without alarm or hesitation throughout the cannonade.
At nine o’clock we were obliged to move back again, for the Americans were marching in great force to turn our right flank; we abandoned our general hospital, with five hundred sick and wounded, to the enemy. Terry Reeves was among the wounded, and I said farewell to him with a heavy heart, for he had fought very gallantly and proved a true comrade to me. Our company was with the rearguard, General Phillips commanding us. It was two hours before the order came to march, and we had for some time expected a night-assault by the enemy, who re-formed in the same place as they had left that morning. We could see the twinkling lanterns which the officers carried, and their movements up and down the lines. Yet, we came off safely, and the enemy did not pursue us until late on the following day, which was October 9th. For lightness of travel we had left behind our tents and other furniture.
This was a miserable journey, the rain pouring down without ceasing, and the road exceedingly bad and muddy. The Americans had again broken down the bridges over the creeks, which must be repaired to allow our wagons and guns to pass and then broken down once more to hinder the enemy’s advance. Our batteaux in the river which had kept abreast of our advance now returned with us, the crews poling them with difficulty up the shallows. The train of wagons, as the rain grew worse, became bogged and not to be extricated by any means, the horses being weak for lack of fodder and our own strength quite worn out. These wagons had been hastily constructed of green wood in Canada and the warping of the timber made them very stiff to drive, even in the best of weathers. We held no conversation among ourselves on this march, so heavy our hearts were, nor cracked a joke, nor sang a song. We halted for some hours, at Dovegat, where we formed in expectation of an assault. None came, and on we went.
I found myself in ill company, that day, trudging beside Richard Harlowe. The knowledge that he was indebted to me for his life seemed to embitter him yet further against me; but on the contrary (by a strange infirmity of human nature) warmed my heart towards him. This infirmity the great Shakespeare noted in his tragedy of Julius Caesar, where the memory of how he had once saved Caesar’s life from drowning weighed more with Cassius – when invited to join in murdering him – than any memory of kind treatment at Caesar’s hands. I even offered to carry Harlowe’s musket for him, since he limped from an inflamed heel and seemed unable to support the weight; but he sullenly refused and I did not repeat my offer.
So we continued in a silence disturbed only by the horrid imprecations of Corporal Buchanan, who had been sent to take Sergeant Fitzpatrick’s place in our company. At nightfall our vanguard reached the village of Saratoga, and found that a large body of the enemy had seized the rising ground on the near side of the Creek, where the Schuyler mansion stood, and were fortifying it. However, the rain prevented the enemy from using their rifle-guns and they were pushed across the ford by threat of bayonet; where they joined another large body that was fortifying the opposing bank in order to cut off our retreat. So fatigued were most of our people on arrival at Saratoga – we had spent near twenty-four hours in accomplishing a march of eight miles – that they were indisposed to cut wood for fires, to dry their drenched clothes, but lay down as they were upon the sodden ground. I remembered, however, the situation of a hen-house near General Schuyler’s range of barns and storehouses, and, with the permission of an officer, led my company to it out of the rain.
About the middle of the night I was overcome by a terrible nightmare. In this dream I fancied that I was caught in a raiding party of Wyandot Indians, my arms were pinioned and I was led away to be burned. I struggled against my captors with all my strength, but unavailingly, and was lashed with strips of elm-bark to a stake. There a fire was kindled about my feet. The Indians mocked and jeered me, seizing brands of hickory wood from the fire and scorching my flesh with it in every part of my body, without pity. Foremost among my persecutors was Richard Harlowe, who at last seized a bucket of red-hot embers and emptied it on my head, crying: ‘Coals of fire! Coals of fire! There’s nothing burns the head like coals of fire!’ Then the Reverend John Martin appeared in the guise of a Wyandot sachem. He grinned at me and, said he, ‘Here I am again. Ye’ll never be rid of me. I am here, there, and everywhere, like the Royal Artillery.’
The heat was unbearable, the flames roared high, I was choking with the smoke; and then some one seized me by the middle and threw me across his back. He staggered with me out through the flames, and laid me upon the grass. I awoke then, to know that the fire at least had not been a dream, and that Smutchy Steel had rescued me from the blazing hen-house, when I was near smothered. The fire had been providentially noticed by Lieutenant Kemmis as he went to his lodging at the mansion; he ran up and shouted a warning. My comrades awoke, but could not escape, for the door proved to have been secured from the outside with a stout snib. Had the Lieutenant not been at hand to enlarge us, by turning this snib, we should infallibly have burned to death.
Some flaming straw from the hen-house, being carried upwards by the heat, now lodged in the roof of a barn near by and the whole range of buildings caught fire. We were hard put to it to rescue from the flames the sick and wounded who had been housed there. My two hours of sleep before the conflagration were the first that I had enjoyed since the third night before; and I slept no more that night, neither, Our company discussed together who could have been the incendiary, but came to no conclusion. It was remarked that, of those who had taken shelter in the hut, only Richard Harlowe was absent when the alarm was given. But, there being no other circumstance to incriminate him, he was not charged with arson, and the matter subsided.
On the next day, October 10th, the batteaux, with what little provisions remained in them, were constantly fired upon from the other bank of the river, which was distant but thirty yards. Many fell into the hands of the enemy, and several of the boatmen were killed or wounded. We now recrossed the Fishkill Creek, and General Burgoyne sent a force of artificers up the river, under a sufficient escort, to occupy and repair the pontoon-bridge built for us four weeks previously. They found it still afloat and the task would have been completed by the following daybreak had not their escort been urgently recalled by General Burgoyne, who wished every available soldier to be present with him for a battle which he hoped might be decisive for our arms. A company of Loyalists, left behind as a guard, fled upon the approach of a small body of the enemy, and the artificers were forced to do likewise. But General Burgoyne at least succeeded in sending his military chest safe back into Canada, under slight escort, assisted by the Indians.
We were entrenched on the low ridge of hills overlooking Fishkill Creek and its artificial islands, and a broad space was now cleared of everything that could afford cover to the enemy. By an unkind necessity of war, the Schuyler mansion on the opposite side of the creek was, at General Burgoyne’s order, burned to the ground, for it afforded an admirable shelter behind which General Gates’s army might mass for the assault. My heart was sore to see this noble house and the mills beside it go up in flames; and my high estimation of General Schuyler’s character was confirmed when later I learned that he bore us no ill will for this destruction, declaring that, had he been in General Burgoyne’s shoes, he would have done the same. He had, indeed, in the first year of this war, ruined the beautiful
estate of his neighbour Sir William Johnson, Bt. (father of Colonel Guy and Sir John Johnson), which was situated in the Mohawk valley: carrying off his Scottish tenantry as prisoners and killing his famous herd of peacocks, the feathers of which his militiamen stuck in their caps as trophies.
It was raining still, and indeed rain fell continuously for a whole week from the time of our retreat. ‘So much the better for us,’ we thought, fingering our bayonets with expectant ardour. In the middle of the morning the American attack was launched under cover of a thick fog. Their vanguard, consisting of above a thousand of their regular troops, covertly passed over the Creek and advanced towards us up the slope. At that moment the fog lifted and their whole line was disclosed. We gave them grape-shot and platoon-fire and waited for their nearer approach in order to charge with the bayonet; but they broke and ran in remarkable disorder. We expected them to re-form and return to the assault, but in vain. Instead, their centre halted and took post, facing us, on the other side of the Creek, while Colonel Morgan led his large command two miles upstream and there crossed; wheeling round, he then halted on the fringe of the forest which bordered our right flank. Three thousand more Americans pushed along the farther bank of Hudson’s River, now denuded of our forces, capturing a number of our batteaux with their crews. Opposite us they posted batteries of guns which could rake our position from end to end. They also placed guards on all the fords and ferries as far upstream as Fort Edward, and built a redoubt commanding our pontoon-bridge.
General Riedesel now proposed to General Burgoyne to abandon our baggage and guns and retreat during the night, forcing a passage over a ford four miles below Fort Edward, and striking across the forest to Fort George before the enemy beyond the river could be reinforced. General Burgoyne refused, still hoping that the Americans would dash their army against us in a wild onslaught.
On the following morning, October 11th, some of us were given the dangerous and difficult duty of transporting the sacks of provisions from the batteaux upon our shoulders into the camp, and rolling up the barrels. Musketry and shell-fire from across the river killed many of our number.
Very great indeed were the distresses which we were called upon to suffer, yet they were borne with fortitude; and we were still ready to face any danger when led on by officers whom we loved and respected. Numerous parties of the militia now joined the American forces, so that General Gates was soon at the head of twenty thousand men. They swarmed around us like birds of prey. By our losses we had been reduced from the seven thousand men with whom we set out from Canada to half that number, not two thousand of whom were British.
Our camp was a mile and a half long, and half a mile broad. We were exposed to continual round-shot from the enemy batteries, which made it inadvisable to light fires: for the smoke or flame provided a target at which aim was immediately taken. Thus we were obliged to subsist upon raw victuals – salt pork and a paste made with flour and water. Moreover, the whole army was provided with but one spring of water, which was muddy, and we were feign to drink puddle-water or rain caught in our caps. To fetch water from the Creek by day was to be shot dead; and three armed parties who went down under cover of darkness did not return. We were greatly galled by popping shots from the riflemen in the tree-tops; and, in the small redoubt where we were huddled, would amuse ourselves by hoisting a cap upon a stick above the parapet. Instantly shots would be fired at it, and it would be perforated by two or three balls. We were forbidden to reply, in order to save our ammunition for the general assault that was still expected, and took this very hard. Soon we were beyond caring for the cannonades. We lighted fires, regardless of the danger, baking our flour paste into the usual cakes upon stones laid in the embers. Our store of spruce-beer was expended and any one who possessed a reserve of rum could kind a ready market for it at one guinea the pint.
At another Council of War on the next day, October 12th, General Riedesel prevailed upon General Burgoyne to attempt the retirement that he had refused to make two days before. Five days’ rations – all that remained – were therefore issued to us by the Commissaries, and we awaited orders to issue from the works when dark came. However, our scouts reported that the enemy had sent out so many detached parties that it would now be impossible to execute this retreat without setting the whole American army in motion against us. General Burgoyne therefore changed his mind once more, for though he trusted General Riedesel, he did not trust the Germans under his command. It was notorious that they were suffering too greatly to be dependable marching companions; and had concerted to fire one volley only, if attacked, and then to club their arms in token of surrender.
I was now assisting the surgeons in a building which was a principal target of the American artillery – a log-house of two storeys well advertised to them as constituting our general hospital. It was suspected by these over-ingenious people that our generals would be smart enough to make the hospital serve a double purpose, by sheltering themselves and their families under a roof that invited a humane respect. Some slight colour for their belief was provided by Madame Riedesel’s ornamental calash which stood near the door; this pretty blue-eyed lady and her three young children having taken refuge in the cellar of the building. Therefore the round shot came bounding in and out of the upper chambers where we were at work. A surgeon, Mr Jones, had his leg so crushed by flying masonry that we were obliged to amputate it. In the middle of this operation, which he endured with great fortitude, another ball came roaring from across the river, and when the dust had cleared we found that Surgeon Jones had been dashed from the table on which he was laid and was lying groaning in a corner: his other leg had been taken clean off! This was only one of many horrible happenings, of which a full Detail would turn the stomach.
The wounded were crying out for water, and we had none to give them. A batman volunteered to run down to the Creek and bring up water in a pail, but he was struck down before he had gone many steps. Then the same Jane Crumer, who had assisted me at Fort Anna, and whose husband was among the gravely wounded, cried out that the Americans were not such beasts that they would fire at a woman. She went leisurely out from the hospital, paused by the dead man to unclasp his fingers from the pail that they still clutched; then, waving amiably to the enemy across the river, she continued to the water-side, drew water, curtsied her gratitude and returned. Not a shot was fired at her. She went to and fro with her pail until she had fetched sufficient for all.
On October 13th, General Burgoyne summoned yet another Council, to which all officers from the rank of Captain upwards were invited. It is said, that to Major Skene, who was present, General Burgoyne remarked with a pardonable show of irritation: ‘Sir, you have been the occasion of getting me into this quagmire. Now be good enough to show me the way out.’ To which Major Skene made the absurd reply: ‘Scatter your baggage and stores in every part of the camp, and while the rebel militia are scrambling for the plunder, you will have time to get away in safety.’ This remark, however, was not recorded in the minutes of this proceeding, which may best speak for themselves.
Minutes and proceedings of a Council of War, consisting of all the general officers, field officers, and captains commanding corps, on the Heights of Saratoga, October 13th, 1777:
The Lieutenant-General having explained the situation of affairs as in the preceding Council, with the additional intelligence that the enemy was intrenched at the fords of Fort Edward, and likewise occupied the strong position on the pine plains between Fort George and Fort Edward, expressed his readiness to undertake, at their head, any enterprise of difficulty or hazard that should appear to them within the compass of their strength and spirit. He added that he had reason to believe a capitulation had been in the contemplation of some, perhaps of all, who knew the real situation of things; that, upon a circumstance of such consequence to national and personal honour, he thought it a duty to his country, and to himself, to extend his council beyond the usual limits; that the assembly present might justly be este
emed a full representation of the army; and that he should think himself unjustifiable in taking any step in so serious a matter, without such a concurrence of sentiments as should make a treaty the act of the Army as well as that of the General. The first question he desired them to decide was:
Whether an army of three thousand, five hundred, fighting men, and well provided with artillery, were justifiable, upon the principles of national dignity and military honour, in capitulating in any possible situation?
Resolved, nem. con. in the affirmative.
Question 2: Is the present situation of that nature?
Resolved, nem. con. that the present situation justifies a capitulation upon honourable terms.
General Burgoyne then drew up the following letter directed to General Gates, relative to the negotiation, and laid it before the Council. It was unanimously approved, and upon that foundation the treaty opened:
After having fought you twice, Lieutenant-General Burgoyne has waited some days in his present position, determined to try a third conflict against any force you could bring to attack him.
He is apprized of the superiority of your numbers, and the disposition of your troops to impede his supplies and render his retreat a scene of carnage on both sides. In this situation he is compelled by humanity, and thinks himself justified by established principles, and precedents of State and of War, to spare the lives of brave men upon honourable terms.
Should Major-General Gates be inclined to treat upon that idea, General Burgoyne would propose a cessation of arms, during the time necessary to communicate the preliminary terms by which in any extremity he, and his army, mean to abide.
General Gates then transmitted the following proposals to General Burgoyne; whose answers are appended: