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This account article is from the "Letters and Journals" of Baroness von Riedesel, whose husband commanded the German troops ("Hessians") in Burgoyne's army at the Battle of Saratoga, October 9, 1777. After the surrender to General Gates, both General Riedesel and his wife were prisoners for nearly three years. They were exchanged in 1780 and Riedesel was given command of the British forces on Long Island, his wife accompanying him.
We were halted at six o'clock in the morning [October
9, 1777], to our general amazement. General Burgoyne ordered the artillery
to be drawn up in a line, and to have it counted. This gave much
dissatisfaction, as a few marches more would have ensured our safety. My
husband was exhausted by fatigue, and took a seat in the calash, where my
maids made room for him; and he slept for three hours upon my shoulder. In
the meantime, Captain Willoe brought me his pocket-book, containing
bank-notes, and Captain Geismar, a beautiful watch, a ring, and a well
provided purse, requesting me to keep them, which I promised to do to the
last. At length we recommenced our march; but scarcely an hour had elapsed,
before the army was again halted, because the enemy was in sight. They were
but two hundred in number, who came to reconnoitre, and who might easily
have been taken, had not General Burgoyne lost all his presence of mind. The
rain fell in torrents. . . . On the 9th, it rained terribly the whole day;
nevertheless we kept ourselves ready to march. The savages had lost their
courage, and they walked off in all directions. The least untoward event
made them dispirited, especially when there was no opportunity for plunder.
My chamber-maid exclaimed the whole day against her fate, and seemed mad
with despair. I begged her to be quiet, unless she wished to be taken for a
savage. Upon this she became still more extravagant, and asked me, "If
I should be sorry for it?" -- "Surely," replied I. -- She
then tore her cap from her head, and let her hair fall upon her face.
"You take it quite easily," said she, "for you have your
husband; but we have nothing but the prospect of being killed, or of losing
the little we possess. . . .
We reached Saratoga about dark, which was but half an
hour's march from the place where we had spent the day. I was quite wet, and
was obliged to remain in that condition, for want of a place to change my
apparel. I seated myself near the fire, and undressed the children, and we
then laid ourselves upon some straw. -- I asked General Phillips, who came
to see how I was, why we did not continue our retreat, my husband having
pledged himself to cover the movement, and to bring off the army in safety.
"My poor lady," said he, "you astonish me. Though quite wet,
you have so much courage as to wish to go farther in this weather. What a
pity it is that you are not our commanding general! He complains of fatigue,
and has determined upon spending the night here, and giving us a supper.
It is very true, that General Burgoyne liked to make
himself easy, and that he spent half his nights in singing and drinking, and
diverting himself. . . . I refreshed myself at 7 o'clock, the next morning,
(the 10th of October,) with a cup of tea, and we all expected that we should
soon continue our march. . . About 2 o'clock, we heard again a report of
muskets and cannon, and there was much alarm and bustle among our troops. My
husband sent me word, that I should immediately retire into a house which
was not far off. I got into my calash with my children, and when we were
near the house, I saw, on the opposite bank of the Hudson, five or six men,
who aimed at us with their guns. Without knowing what I did, I threw my
children into the back part of the vehicle, and laid myself upon them. At
the same moment the fellow fired, and broke the arm of a poor English
soldier, who stood behind us, and who being already wounded sought a
shelter. Soon after our arrival, a terrible cannonade began, and the fire
was principally directed against the house, where we had hoped to find a
refuge, probably because the enemy inferred, from the great number of people
who went towards it, that this was the headquarters of the generals, while,
in reality, none were there except women and crippled soldiers. We were at
last obliged to descend into the cellar, where I laid myself in a corner
near the door. My children put their heads upon my knees. An abominable
smell, the cries of the children, and my own anguish of mind, did not permit
me to close my eyes, during the whole night. On the next morning, the
cannonade begun anew, but in a different direction. . . . Eleven
cannon-balls passed through the house, and made a tremendous noise. A poor
soldier, who was about to have a leg amputated, lost the other by one of
these balls. All his comrades ran away at that moment, and when they
returned, they found him in one corner of the room, in the agonies of death.
I was myself in the deepest distress, not so much on account of my own
dangers, as of those to which my husband was exposed, who, however,
frequently sent me messages, inquiring after my health. . .
The want of water continuing to distress us, we could not
but be extremely glad to find a soldier's wife so spirited as to fetch some
from the river, an occupation from which the boldest might have shrunk, as
the Americans shot every one who approached it. They told us afterwards that
they spared her on account of her sex. . . .
On the 17th of October, the capitulation was carried into
effect. The generals waited upon the American General Gates, and the troops
surrendered themselves prisoners of war and laid down their arms. The time
had now come for the good woman who had risked her life to supply us with
water, to receive the reward of her services. Each of us threw a handful of
money into her apron; and she thus received more than twenty guineas. At
such a moment at least, if at no other, the heart easily overflows with
gratitude.
At last, my husband's groom brought me a message to join
him with the children. I once more seated myself in my dear calash, and,
while riding through the American camp, was gratified to observe that no
body looked at us with disrespect, but, on the contrary, greeted us, and
seemed touched at the sight of a captive mother with three children. I must
candidly confess that I did not present myself, though so situated, with
much courage to the enemy, for the thing was entirely new to me. When I drew
near the tents, a good looking man advanced towards me, and helped the
children from the calash, and kissed and caressed them: he then offered me
his arms, and tears trembled in his eyes. "You tremble," said he;
"do not be alarmed, I pray you." "Sir," cried I, "a
countenance so expressive of benevolence, and the kindness which you have
evinced towards my children, are sufficient to dispel all
apprehension." He then ushered me into the tent of General Gates. . .
. . . . The gentleman who had received me with so much
kindness, came and said to me, "You may find it embarrassing to be the
only lady in such a large company of gentlemen; will you come with your
children to my tent, and partake of a frugal dinner, offered with the best
will?" "By the kindness you show to me," returned I,
"you induce me to believe that you have a wife and children." He
informed me that he was General Schuyler. He regaled me with smoked tongues,
which were excellent, with beef steaks, potatoes, fresh butter, and bread.
Never did a dinner give me so much pleasure as this. I was easy, after many
months of anxiety, and I read the same happy change in the countenances of
those around me. . .