Visit of P. Stansbury the the Battle and Surrender Grounds in September 1821

Stansbury, a native of New York city, was a person who obtained some celebrity at the time by making a pedestrian tour of over 2,000 miles through New York, New England and the Canadas. His account of his travels is marked by considerable acuteness of observation.

Observations

Continuing on from Waterford with the high grounds at a distance on my left and the Hudson rolling on my right, I came in the evening to the scattered village of Stillwater, the well-known scene of the most important events of the Revolutionary war. Burgoyne's retreat from this place was probably the preservation of the States of New England. He had been sent with a powerful army, stores, artillery, and the various engines of war necessary for a momentous expedition from St. Johns, in Lower Canada, under a design of cutting off every communication of the Southern with the Eastern States, which were considered as the soul of the Revolution in America.

The British general, Sir Henry Clinton, was to meet him at Albany from New York and join in reducing the strongest posts in these quarters. He advanced and swept all before him. Crown Point,* Ticonderoga, Mount Defiance,** Mount Independence,*** Fort George, Fort Edward--all were compelled to yield to his progress, and victory hovered over his exulting army until he approached Saratoga, within a few miles of Stillwater.

(*Crown Point at this time was not an important fortress, so far, at - least, as regards its strength. Rivington's Gazette for May 6, 1773, has this item: "Accidental fire from a chimney in a building at Crown Point set fire to other buildings and the magazine in April. The magazine blew up by the explosion of 100 pounds of powder, resulting in all the fortifications and other buildings being destroyed."

** This "Mt. Defiance," or as it was also called, Sugar Loaf Hill, was really the key to the situation, whichever army might occupy it.

As early as July, 1758, Capt. Stark had brought the fact of its commanding attitude to the notice of Lord Howe (see Memoir of Caleb Stark, pg. 24). Howe, on that occasion, had been taken by Stark to its summitsome 800 feet in height -- overlooking and commanding the works of Ticonderoga. Howe even perceived at that time the advantage which a few pieces of artillery placed there in battery would afford a besieging army on the garrison. But Gen. Abercrombie, supposing his force of sufficient strength, brought no artillery with his army.

Again, in 1776, Col. John Trumbull, when adjutant for the northern department, had called the attention of the American general to this same thing. When he made this suggestion he was laughed at by his mess; but he soon proved the accuracy of his own vision by throwing a cannon shot to the summit, and subsequently clambered up to the top, dragging a cannon after him, accompanied by Cols. Stevens, Wayne and Arnold. Indeed, it was a criminal neglect on the part of the Americans that the oversight was not at once corrected by the construction of a work upon that point, which would have commanded the whole post. It was a neglect, however, which was soon to cost them dear, for owing to this neglect, St. Clair was obliged to evacuate Ticonderoga. There is still (1894) to be seen on top of Mt. Defiance a large flat rock with the holes in it by which Burgoyne's cannon were made fast.

*** Mt. Independence was a smaller hill east of Mt. Defiance on the Vermont side, and separated from it by the outlet of Lake George. This hill was fortified by Gen. Stark in 1776, by order of Gen. Gates, then commanding at Ticonderoga. In clearing the hill to prepare for erecting the works the troops killed an immense number of rattlesnakes.)

The river winds in its course, and after meandering through the flatlands of the valley here bends and runs within sixty yards of the foot of some high hills or embankments which are now called Bemis's Heights. With a sensation of awe I slowly paced the road to the spot where our forefathers fought and conquered. The names of the victorious heroes crowded upon my recollection like the glittering stars in the sky, which then enabled me to survey the ambiguous outline of the landscape.

There is an Inn (The "Bemis Tavern." For an account of the landlord, Bemis, see appendix.) under the heights where, with the remembrance of the deeds which transpired on these grounds, I contented myself to repose.

BATTLE of BEMIS' HEIGHTS

The next morning the son of the innkeeper, who was himself one of our old Revolutionary warriors and had stood somewhat perspicuous upon this memorable occasion, volunteered his services as my guide to the fields of battle.

The young man had acquired a perfect knowledge of every part of the ground and every circumstance of the engagements, not only from the descriptions of his father and other venerable soldiers, but also from an attentive perusal of the histories of the war.

We ascended the hill. Few vestiges are to be seen; the plough has strove with insiduous zeal to destroy even these few remaining evidences of Revolutionary heroism. Each succeeding year the agriculturist turns afresh the sod of the weather-beaten breastworks, and as he sweats and toils, to the great anguish of the antiquarian, to level alike mounds and ditches, he exhibits the peaceful efforts of that liberty and wide independence which these have procured, over whose graves he tramples.

When Gen. Burgoyne advanced to this place, after crossing the Hudson at Saratoga by a bridge of boats, he found, instead of a flying and dispirited army, a large and resolute army to stop his farther progress. Gen, Burgoyne had boasted before the British House of Commons that with 4,000 men, the colonies could be reduced into subjection. More than twice that number were now enlisted under his banners -- resolute and brave veteran soldiers, who were already beginning to suffer all the distress and fatigue attendant upon an embarrassed army.

Harrassed by the American scouts, shortened in the usual allowance of provisions and enclosed in a narrow valley with an impassable river on one side, hills and thick forests on the other, the American army under Gen. Gates facing them in front, and a road so broken in their rear as to allow little hopes of an easy returning march ; this mighty host, which came thundering from the north with a most formidable train of heavy brass artillery, stores and equipments, now shrunk from an army of untutored militia.

Above the heights are level plains, which at that time were partly cleared and called "Freeman's Farm."*

(* In connection with "Freeman's Farm" the following anecdote is not without interest. A Mr. Michael Condon, who died in the early part of 1891, was once a day laborer on the farm now known as "Freeman's Farm." He had been set to work digging or otherwise on the farm; and when at noon the owner of the farm came along he found a hole dug in the ground in which there were yet one or two gold pieces scattered around. These, as the owner of the farm, he claimed and took. A year afterward Mr. Condon bought and paid for a very expensive farm, which is known to this day as the "Battle Farm," and while no one could say positively that it was bought with these gold pieces, yet no one doubted the fact. See note ante.)

Here the conflicting armies met. They fought from three in the afternoon (Sept. 19, 1777) until day closed upon the bloody scene and obliged the combatants to separate.

Though the British claimed the victory, no advantages resulted to them from this engagement. Both armies began to throw up entrenchments and fortify their camps in the strongest possible manner.*

(* Burgoyne's camp, however, was in a continual state of alarm from this time until the final battle of the 7th of October. One incident among many of a similar character may be mentioned. During all of this time his (Burgoyne's) officers and soldiers were constantly dressed and ready for action. One night twenty young farmers, residing near his camp, resolved to capture his advance picket guard. Armed with fowling-pieces they marched silently through the woods until they were within a few yards of the picket. They then rushed from the brushes, the captain blowing an old horse trumpet, and the men yelling. There was no time for the sentinels to hail.

"Ground your arms or you are all dead men," cried the patriot captain.

Thinking that a large force had fallen upon them, the picket obeyed. As a result of this daring the young farmers, with all the parade of regulars, marched before them to the American camp over thirty British soldiers. Innumerable instances are given by contemporary writers of the intensity and bitterness of the feelings of the Whigs against the Tories at this time, one of which may be here mentioned in connection with the battle of Bennington. In reading this the reader will doubtless recall the fray of the two brothers Butler in the Wyoming massacre (see my father's History of Wyoming). The anecdote to which we here particularly call attention is as follows : An old gentleman in speaking, at the age of go, about these occurrences, says On my way back I got the belt of a Hessian whose sword I had taken in the pursuit. One Tory with his left eye shot out was led by me, mounted on a horse, who had also lost his left eye. It seems cruel now -- it did not then."

The field of battle extends one mile back from the road by the river. The entrenchments of the two camps can to this day be traced, almost razed in some places, and in others overgrown with bushes and tall forest trees. The line of Burgoyne's camp, which lay north of the Americans, is visible and daily washing away and exposing rotten logs, which, in part, composed the breastworks.

Upon a range of knolls square redoubts are very perceptible, from which the Americans commanded the passage of the road and river; another wide redoubt is turned into a buckwheat field, with its venerable moats and parapets forming the enclosure. About a half a mile west from these redoubts stand the farm-house and barns -- which, after the battle of the 19th, were occupied as hospitals. The farm-house is large, painted red, untenanted and ready to fall. It was the headquarters of Gen. Gates, who, when the engagement was over, generally removed into a tent and gave up his rooms to the wounded soldiers.

My conductor, seating himself upon an elevated rail fence, where I also mounted, and, taking contentedly an apple from the bough of a luxuriant tree which had fixed its roots upon the rounded top of one of the ancient ramparts, pointed to different points of the plain.

"There," said he "is an old barn still standing, which stood within the British line of encampment, and there is the spot where Col. Cilley straddled a twelve-pounder, which had been taken twice from the enemy. Here stood the tents of the American army; the soldiers were idly sitting or reposing in them, when an officer was seen riding over the plain; the generals met. him and immediately all were in arms, forming into companies or marching in order of battle. Yonder a troop of wounded dragoons were coming from the engagement toward the hospital; death sat upon their countenances, blood ran from their bodies, and as the mournful train slowly advanced some one of them, at every short distance, fell from his horse and expired on the ground."

The period between the 19th of September and the second engagement on the 7th of October was full of painful anxiety on the part of the British. Not a day passed without the death of some soldier or officer, shot by the American scouts and marksmen.*

(Burgoyne's army was as good as cut off from its outposts, while in consequence of its proximity to the American camp, the soldiers had but little rest. The nights also were rendered hideous by the howls of large packs of wolves, that were attracted by the partially-buried bodies of those slain in the action of the 19th. On the 1st of October a few English soldiers, who were digging potatoes in a field a short distance in the rear of headquarters, within the camp, were surprised by the enemy, who suddenly rushed from the woods and carried off the men in the very faces of their comrades." -- Stone's Burgoyne's Campaign.)

And at this moment the Indians, when their assistance was most needed, deserted from the cause under which they had enlisted. Their defection was occasioned by the disappointment of their hopes of plunder and by the notice which Gen. Burgoyne was in honor obliged to take of the cruel massacre of Miss McCrea.*

(* For a true account of the murder of Miss McCrea see my Burgoyne Ballads.)

On the 7th of October the royal army was observed advancing, prepared for action. Their design was to force a passage through the American lines; or, if they failed, to dislodge them from their entrenchments, and retreat by way of Lake George. The American troops were in readiness to repulse the attack, and the engagement soon became general. A tremendous fire ensued. The thunder of the British cannon was dreadful.

After a contest of the most sanguinary kind, which lasted a great part of the afternoon, the victory was at last decided in favor of the American army, and the enemy, leaving many of their officers highest in command wounded or slain, upon the field and several pieces of their brass artillery, fled precipitately into their lines. The Americans pursued and commenced a ferocious assault upon their camp, which was in part carried when night once more closed upon the bloody scene.

This defeat was signal. Gen. Burgoyne, in the darkness of the night, after leaving fires kindled and some tents standing, led back his weak, dispirited army on the road they had before travelled as far as Saratoga, where he remained until the articles of surrender were signed on the 17th of October, 1777.

The British, who not long before had advanced in such overwhelming numbers and with such a formidable array of strength and equipments, were now conducted mournful captives between two files of victorious troops into the very city of Albany, in which they had thought with the greater [sic] certainty of spending a happy winter.*

(In corroboration of this, see ante an anecdote about Fraser.)

A trench and rampart overgrown with bushes and crowned with a rail fence runs from the foot of Bemis's Heights across the meadow to the bank of the Hudson river. It formed a part of the American line of entrenchments. Where it is terminated at the edge of the river a sentinel was walking late in the night after the battle of the 7th, when a boat appeared moving down the stream, which he hailed. The boat put ashore under a flag of truce and a beautiful lady, with her attendants, ascended the bank.

This was Lady Harriet Acland. Her husband was wounded and a prisoner in the American camp. With a heroism seldom to be met with she had thus ventured, on a cold stormy night, in the midst of her enemies, without knowing whose hands she might fall into in order to quiet her dreadful apprehensions respecting the fate of her husband and to attend upon him until he should be recovered of his wounds. Major Dearborn,* who commanded the guards, conducted her into a cabin of his own, where an apartment was cleared, a fire kindled and supper prepared.

(* For a correct sketch of Dearborn, see "Appleton's Biographical Encyclopeedia;" also Gen. James Grant Wilson's letter in "The Dearborns," Chicago, Fergus Printing Co., 1884; Coffin's "Life of Dearborn." In 1794 Louis Philippe (afterward king of France) and Talleyrand visited Gen. Dearborn at Pittston, Me., and remained several days. Fort Dearborn (now Chicago, Ill.), was named after him. Theoriginal MSS. "Journal of Gen. Dearborn," never printed, is in the Boston library. Through the kindness of the librarian I have obtained a copy of it.)

She remained until the morning and was then escorted with the honors due to her rank and condition into the American camp. *

(*A full life of Lady Acland will be found in my Burgoyne Ballads." Indeed, the entire subject of the Burgoyne campaign is so vast, that in order not to duplicate my statements I only give references to where such and such topics are treated.)

The house which the British army made their hospital is about three miles from the town where I had stopped, and is colloquially termed in the neighborhood the house where Fraser died. It is now called Smith's tavern.*

(* Also called at the time of the battle "the Taylor house." For a picture of it see my "Letters of Madame Riedesel.")

There is a wide meadow between it and the high grounds under which it formerly stood. It has since been removed half a mile to the bank of the river. Its form is antique, the rooms are large and not in the least ruinous. The Baroness de Riedesel, with her three infant children, who had accompanied her husband, Major-General Riedesel, commander of the German troops from Canada, through all the horrors of war, here occupied a room, whilst the adjoining apartments were filled with the wounded and the dying.

In the afternoon of the second battle she expected the generals to dine with her at four o'clock, when, instead of the guests, Gen. Fraser was brought in carried on a litter mortally wounded. The table was instantly removed. By some, indeed, it is related that the dishes and every article on the table were swept upon the floor and Gen. Fraser was laid upon it instead of a bed. This brave and gallant soldier died the next day, and, according to his request, his corpse was borne without parade to the top of the hill behind the house, where a redoubt had been built and is still visible. The procession, accompanied by Gen. Burgoyne and the principal officers, slowly ascended the hill in sight of both armies and under a continual fire from the Americans. The funeral service was performed in the usual manner, but the solemnity of interment was rendered strikingly awful by the cannon balls which now and then covered the mournful train with clouds of dust.* His remains are removed to England. **

The hill is known by its standing directly back of the house and having the trees and bushes cleared away from its sides.

(* As soon, however, as the Americans discovered that it was a burial and not a new military manceuvre, to take possession of a strategic point, the firing was immediately discontinued, and yet English historians, with true British venom, continue to repeat this yarn. For a sketch of Gen. Fraser see my "Burgoyne Ballads."

** An error. For the origin of this report of the removal of Fraser's remains see my "Burgoyne's Campaign," Appendix.)

The road leading to the village of Saratoga [now Schuylerville, N. Y.] is uneven and recedes from the river, which at intervals may be seen rolling its diminished current among the trees and meadows, near the Fishkill, a creek [having its source in Saratoga lake] falling into the Hudson.

The ruins of an old church, celebrated in the bloody scenes of the Revolution, were lying at the roadside, having been very lately pulled down on account of its decayed condition. The unfinished bed of the Northern canal, which is to connect Lake Champlain with the Hudson, runs sometimes on one side and sometimes on the other side of the road. On the left the high bank of the creek extends, upon which Gen. Gates, with the main body of the American army, was posted after pursuing to this place the retreating enemy. A descendant of Gen. Schuyler, who first commanded against Burgoyne, has a seat situated upon a point formed by the junction of the two streams and adjacent a large establishment of mills.*

(* For a more particular account of these mills see Chastellux's letter.)

Saratoga consists of a few scattered houses. The situation, however, is pleasant, with the Hudson below, divided by two romantic islands, the Battenkill *

(* The Battenkill, one of the tributaries of the Hudson river, flows rapidly from the Green mountains of Vermont, and after a picturesque fall enters that river some half a mile above the village of Schuylerville, N. Y. The name " Battenkill " is a remarkable example of a name entirely lost by contraction. Its origin was as follows: A Dutchman named Bartholomew Van Hogeboom was the first settler at the mouth of this creek and it was named Bartholomew's Kill. He was usually called " Bart or - Bat, and the creek was called "Bat's Kill." It now appears on our maps and in gazetteers Ballenkill, giving scarcely a hint of its origin. For the benefit of fishermen, of which guild I am one, I here append a clipping from a Washington county paper. The Cambridge Post of Aug. 13, 1887 says: "Fishermen had only fair luck the first of May. At an early hour the brooks were lined. The Battenkill was so high that it was impossible to do anything in it, and resort was had to the smaller brooks. The fish were coy and did not bite well, and the total number taken was much smaller than last year. This was partly compensated for, however, by the size of some that were taken. H. M. Wells was 'high hook.' He captured a beauty at the old Wilcox bridge, south of this village, 20.5 inches long and weighing two pounds and thirteen ounces. James S. Smart caught a pound and one-half trout in Battenkill, and John Rice one of the same weight in the furnace brook. George L. Williams captured a pound fish, and Irving Willard displayed a fine mess, caught, it is said, in a fly manner with a silver hackle. The snow water is running yet, and it will be some days before the fishing will be prime.")

pouring its waters from the east and the high mountains of Vermont rising in sight, all which is enhanced by the recollection of the glory which the American arms there acquired. The royal army occupied the heights, where they were completely stirrounded by the American battalions and compelled (Oct. 17) to surrender prisoners of war.

The American soldiers lined the opposite bank of the river and poured continual volleys into the British encampment. A large farm-house stands upon a hill not far from the village, against which they kept up a terrible cannonade under the mistaken idea that in it all the generals were assembled. But. it contained only wounded soldiers and the officers' wives, who had taken shelter from their destructive fire.

The Baroness Riedesel, with her infant children, being in the house, was obliged to seek refuge in the cellar, where she remained during a whole night, her children sleeping on the cold earth with their heads on her lap.

This house was shown to me; it is called "Bushee's House," and remains still in a very good condition. The hill upon which it stands accords exactly with that engraved on the map in Smith's "History of the American War." The present tenants received me politely and pointed out the several rooms, rendered famous for the remarkable occurrences which transpired between these walls.*

(* Now (1895) called the "Marshall House." The historical character of this house, situated about a quarter of a mile north of the village of Schuylerville, makes it an object of peculiar interest to all visitors, in connection with the ground occupied by the British forces previous to the surrender of General Burgoyne. After the English army had retreated from Freeman's farm and had crossed the Fishkill, it was during the whole period of the British encampment until the day of surrender the refuge of that most remarkable and intelligent German woman, Madame Frederika Riedesel, the wife of Major-General Riedesel.

The severe and trying ordeal through which she patiently and heroically passed in this house, as related by her in so graphic a manner in her letters during the environment of the royal army by the Continental forces, is of such an impressive nature as to make the place and the incidents pertaining to it one of the most notable in history.

At the time of the Revolutionary war this property was owned by a family of Lansings, who, on the approach of the Indians attached to Burgoyne's army, fled and left it unprotected. It seems, however, from the narrative of Madame Riedesel, that there was a woman - whether a domestic or a member of the owner's family is not quite clear -- who rendered her various important services while she and her children were sheltered in the cellar, and whom, when they left the house, they gave a generous recompense. As described in a deed from Peter Lansing to Samuel Bushe, dated April 30, 1803, the land on which the house is situated was known as "lot number one of the 10th allotment in the general division of Kayaderosseras patent," bounded on the south by the north line of the Saratoga patent, containing about forty acres.

In a conveyance of the same by Samuel Bushe to Abraham Marshall, his father-in-law, dated December 7, 1817, the property is described as lying west of the road leading from Bacon Hill, in the town of Northumberland, to Joseph Welsh, in the town of Saratoga. It states that Samuel Bushe reserved one-half of the dwelling house," viz.: the north- half thereof, from the center of the hall, and the one-half of the kitchen attached to said dwelling-house, and the free use thereof until anothei kitchen be built upon the said premises.

From the family register in an old King James Bible, printed in Edinburgh by Mark and Charles Kerr, MDCCLXXXIX, in the possession (1894) of the widow of William B. Marshall, it is learned that Abraham Marshall was born on the 15th of February, 1730, and had a son by his wife Susannah, named Samuel, who was born April 9, 1771. The latter was the father of Wm. B. Marshall, born February, 1823, and who married Jane M. Griswold, of Milton, Saratoga county, N. Y., May 1, 1844, the present (1894) owner of the housewho is one of the most patriotic ladies of the day, and who takes great pride in her possession.

Although the old house was remodeled about a decade ago, the greater part of it still remains as it was originally built. The flooring of yellow pine plank, fifteen inches wide, and held in place by wrought iron nails, is still to be seen, upon which the blood stains of the wounded soldier who was struck by a cannon ball are visible.

On the 10th of October, a cannon ball shot from Col. Fellow's fieldpiece on the hill a little north of the Battenkill on the left bank of the river, struck the north-cast corner of the house, and entering the hall, tore away a part of the baseboard, and passing across the room, perforated the partition made of two-inch plank, set edge to edge, which separated the north room from the center hall. The partition planks are still to be seen in the cellar.

The original front door in two parts, upper and lower, the old lock and key, window frames, several windows, the ballustrade of the stairway to the upper chambers, and wrought iron door catch are still preserved and shown to visitors. Among the relics and heirlooms in the family is a gold coin with the date 1776, and the inscription, Georgius III, Dei Gratia, cannon balls, grape, a piece of an eight-inch shell, several old and peculiar shaped axes dug tip in the yard, and, likely, belonging to the British army, and other mementoes are to be seen. The most interesting part of the house is the old cellar so accurately described by Madame Riedesel. Here is to be seen the very apartment which she and her children occupied during the cannonading of the house, and also the former entrance to the cellar to which she refers, the heavy ten-inch square beams and the strong stone foundation. The house has a very commanding view of the river and surrounding country. It is about 250 feet west of the road to Fort Miller, and a short distance from the Hudson river, toward which it fronts.

Dr. N. C. Harris, of Schuylerville, with praiseworthy zeal, erected, June 7, 1879, in the front yard of the house facing and in plain sight of the road, an iron post with thirteen-inch base, twelve feet high, with a plate inscribed upon it: "House occupied by Madame Riedesel and the wounded officers of Gen. Burgoyne's army, October 10th, 1777."

In one room an unfortunate soldier was lying on the table, for the purpose of having his leg amputated, when a cannon ball passed through the house and carried away his other leg. His attendants had absconded to the cellar and other places of security, and when they returned they found the miserable man in a corner where he had crept scarcely exhibiting any signs of life.*

(* For a detailed account of this sad episode, the reader is referred to my translation of Mrs. Gen. Riedesel's letters.

This incident recalls a similar one which occurred in the naval battle during our late civil war, between the Kearsage and the Alabama, 19th of June, 1864. During that action, as Asst. Surgeon Llewellyn, of the A1abama, was waiting upon the wounded in the ward-room, his table and a patient lying upon it were swept away from him by an eleven-inch shell which opened in the side of the ship an aperture that fast filled the vessel with water. See Century Magazine for April, 1886.)

As no person dared to fetch water from the river, it soon became extremely scarce, until a soldier's wife boldly ventured to the shore, at whom the Americans, out of respect [and out of chivalric courtesy for which they are so distinguished] did not fire. For this disinterestedness she was afterward handsomely rewarded. Strange stories are told about spots of blood which no washings could ever erase from the floor, but which, it appears, are at last hidden from sight by several coverings of paint.

At Saratoga, few marks of the encampments are discernable. My host, toward evening, conducted me to a large field, divided by a narrow piece of woods, over which a few risings of earth and scarcely perceptible excavations, gave evidence of the parapets and moats which had been there and which the cultivators of the ground were endeavoring to reduce all to the same level, whilst an insignificant French redoubt (Fort Hardy), situated on a fertile meadow near the river, has been suffered to remain near a century untouched by the plow and defended by thick bushes from the attacks of nature.*

(* For a reference to Ft. Hardy see note in advance.)