Visit to the Battle Ground in 1820 by Dr. Theodore Dwight

Dr. Theodore Dwight, who came to his death October 16, 1866, through injuries received from the New Jersey Railroad Co., was a nephew of President Dwight of Yale college, and a son of the distinguished Hartford editor, who was the immediate predecessor of the late Col. William L. Stone in the editorship of the old Hartford Mirror. Dr. Dwight, at the time of his death, was the secretary of the American Ethnological Society -- a society of which he and the late Albert Gallatin were the founders. He was also the author of a number of entertaining works of travel, among which are his Tours in Italy, the Northern Traveller, and Summer Tours. He was likewise for a long time editor of Dwight's American Magazine. He was also the one who, in 1820, brought Saratoga Springs into extensive notice by the first real guide-book of the United States that had ever been published.

Account

A drive over from Ballston Spa brought us to the Saratoga battlegrounds. I hate the details of slaughter ever since I have overcome the savage and heathen impressions I received with my "liberal education." I learned to admire them from the notes of admiration with which the classics abound for those notorious butchers who, in former times did so much business under different firms -- Alexander, Hannibal & Co., Catsar & Brothers. I therefore did not regret that the battles on this ground amounted only to a matter of a thousand or so killed on both sides -- a mere skirmish, in the opinion of an European. Gen. Wilkinson tells facts which show that there was excitement enough here to raise in some individuals the most barbarous and blood-thirsty spirit.

Major Buel, our guide, appeared sometimes at fault, but never being disposed to acknowledge it, generally found a reply to every question. Two of the party differed about the spot on which Gen. Fraser fell and inquired of him, 'Where was Gen. Fraser wounded?' 'Let me see,' said he. 'I believe in the bowels, pretty much.'"

(*It was said at the time by Burgoyne's surgeons that had not General Fraser's stomach been distended by a hearty breakfast he had eaten just before going into action he would doubtless have recovered from his wound. This seems to be corroborated by an item taken from the St. Louis Globe-Democrat of October, 1893.

The article, which is headed, "Empty Stomachs Safer in Battle," is as follows: "Surgeon-General Sternberg, of the Army, and Dr. A. C. Bernays, of St. Louis, had flocked together and were discussing gun-shot wounds in the lower part of the body. Dr. Bernays greatly interested Surgeon-General Sternberg by a proposition he laid down that when a man is shot in the abdomen shortly after eating a hearty meal the danger is much greater.

'A case of that kind should be operated upon in every instance,' said Dr.Bernays. 'If the bowels are empty or nearly so, the same wound may be treated without operation.')

'Applying that theory to soldiers?' remarked the surgeon-general tentatively.

'I would say they ought to do their fighting before breakfast,' put in the specialist."

We visited, also, the headquarters of Gen. Burgoyne.*

(* An error, as mentioned in a preceding note to Mrs. Dwight's visit to the Saratoga battle ground.")

The house (Smith's) stands by the roadside, but the place where it then was is a spot at the foot of the hill [where Fraser is buried], and about 200 yards from the river. The cellar is still to be seen [now, 1894] in a field near an apple tree, a little north of the road that crosses the canal.

Willard's mountain is an eminence a few miles off, on the opposite side of the river. During the last battle the Americans had a few cannon on the rising ground above the eastern shore, a quarter of a mile above Smith's, and thence proceeded the shot of which the Baroness Riedesel speaks. Several ladies of distinction were its inmates at the time when the British troops were here, being the wives of some of the principal officers. The house was converted into an hospital during the second battle, and Gen. Fraser died on the 8th of October in what is now the barroom. His grave is on the hill back of the house.

I heard the late General Van Cortland, (* Died at Sandy Hill, N. Y., in 1822.) a colonel in the New York line, and a participator in this battle say that he was not brought into action until late in the afternoon of the 19th of September, when he was ordered by Arnold to take part beyond the left of our line, and engage in action or not as he might judge proper. He engaged a regiment of Hessians [Brunswickers], of whose short guns our soldiers did not think much, and drove them back. One of his officers was wounded by his side, and he placed him upon his horse.

While pursuing, he met a regiment of British light infantry on his flank and partly in his rear, advancing and firing, but without seeing them in the darkness. He halted in a foot-path nearly parallel to them, about a foot lower than the surface of the ground, ordering his men not to fire till they should see the enemy's flash, and then aim a little below it. Directly the flash was seen all along their line, the fire was immediately returned and this checked them. He then went around to his officers and ordered them to withdraw quietly, and returned to camp. After an engagement of an hour and a half he had lost one man to every five and a half in his regiment. Col. Cilley * lost but one out of seven in five or six hours.

(* Col. Cilley is well known by the readers of Gen. Wilkinson's Memoirs, as having been found by him at the battle of the 7th October, astride of a brass twelve-pounder and exulting in its capture. The following anecdotes of Col. Cilley are, however, not so generally known -- both of which testify to his courage and patriotism.

As a prelude to the engagement of the 7th, a British flanking party was directed to turn the American wing, where Cilley was posted, and who was ordered to counteract the movement. As the parties approached each other, and a few scattering trees only intervened, the British colonel was heard to give the order, "Fix bayonets and charge the damned rebels."

Col. Cilley, who was near enough to hear, responded loudly enough for the enemy to understand, "That is a game two can play at - Charge! by God, and we will try it!" The Americans charged at the word, and rushing upon the enemy, discharged a volley in their faces, who broke and fled without tarrying to cross bayonets with the "damned rebels," leaving a number of their comrades on the field. Eastman, also, in his Life of Stark, states that at the battle of Monmouth, when Gen. Lee was on his retreat, Cilley's regiment checked the pursuit of the enemy and drove them back in turn. Washington, who at that moment arrived, delighted at the gallant stand made by the New Hampshire regiment, inquired, "What troops are these?"

"True-blooded Yankees, sir," was the colonel's emphatic reply. In the retreat from Ticonderoga, a son of Col. Cilley was left behind and fell into the hands of the British, who, ascertaining that he was the son of a disguished officer in the American army, brought him to Burgoyne. That general, after treating him kindly, set him at liberty and furnished him with a horse and saddle-bag full of his " proclamations." These he carried to his father, who, taking one of them, indignantly tore it in pieces, and throwing them to the winds, exclaimed, "So shall their army be scattered."

One of Col. Cilley's grandsons, Jonathan, M. C., from New Hampshire, 1837, met his death in a duel with Wm. Graves, a fellow-congressman from Kentucky. The affair excited unusual attention at the time.)

While in the vicinity of Bemis's Heights I was reminded of several anecdotes I had heard at different periods and from different persons, relating to the battles here and at the Wallomsac, the last of which is usually called the battle of Bennington.

What must have been the state of the country when the panic caused by the desertion of Ticonderoga was such that although a long delay took place before Gen. Burgoyne began to march from Whitehall, he met no opposition until he reached this spot. Exertions were made by the patriotic who were yet undiscouraged, to raise the people in arms; but how was it to be expected that the militia could stop the course of an army, before which regular troops had fled out of the principal fortress of the country?

The history of the time has been written several times and related a thousand. I will, therefore, leave my readers to books and only repeat two or three tales I have heard from private sources. Word of mouth has often a charm, because it conveys feeling, and that everybody can understand.

My father, said a gentleman I once conversed with, lived in Berkshire county, Mass., when the news came that the Hessians [Brunswickers] were going to seize the stores on the Wallomsac creek, and all the force of the country was wanted. He was a hardy farmer and well known thereabouts, so that he had been chosen captain of a company of old men, exempt from service by age, which had been raised for any case of extremity. This company, which was called the 'Silver Grays,' in allusion to their hoary hair, set off for the scene of action immediately and was on the ground on the morning of the battle in time to have a part assigned in the attack made upon the entrenched line of the enemy.

On account of the respectability of the company they were left to choose their place, and agreed to attack the Tory fort, as a redoubt on an eminence was called, which had been intrusted to the Americans accompanying the Hessian troops. The captain informed his men that it was his intention to approach their object through a ravine which he observed led in that direction, to enjoy all the shelter it might afford.

'Captain,' said a large and powerful man in the prime of life, stepping forward pale and trembling, 'I am not going to fight; I came to lead back the horses.'

'Go, then,' said the captain with indignation 'we shall do better without a coward in our number. Deacon,' said he to a little, old man, shrivelled with age, 'you are too feeble to bear the fatigues of the day. It is my pleasure that you stand sentry over the baggage.'

'With your leave, captain,' said the old man, stepping forward and making the soldier's sign of respect to a superior with as much the air of a youth as he could, 'with your leave I will have a pull at 'em first.'

The company expressed their admiration at his spirit, and under the feelings it produced, succeeding as it did the display of arrant cowardice in a younger man, they marched on a quick step toward the enemy. When they reached the end of the ravine, the captain intended to form an attack, supposing they must yet be at some distance from the redoubt.

Instead of this, on looking up he found himself almost at the base of it and the Tories taking aim at him from above. In an instant he lay upon the ground, a bullet having passed through his foot, and a friend near him ran to raise him, supposing him killed. He sprang upon his feet, however, and just then seeing a red-coat hurrying across a field at a distance, a thought came into his head to encourage his men and he cried out, 'Come on! They run, they run!'

The old man climbed up, jumped into the fort and in a moment the 'Silver Grays' had complete possession of it without the loss of one of their number."

From the battle ground I went to Ballston Springs...