THE CAPTURE OF BURGOYNE.

LIEUTENANT-GENERAL BURGOYNE.[From an English Print, 1783.]The way for the operations which resulted in the capture of Burgoyne and his forces was mainly prepared by General Schuyler, who was unjustly replaced by Gates. The battles at Stillwater rendered the result a certainty. The surrender of Burgoyne and his forces, by showing the probability of success, secured the French alliance. The value of that consisted in the fact that it gave Great Britain more to do, and prevented her from crushing the new States, which had declared their independence from “the State of Great Britain.” Up to that time Louis the Sixteenth had only given us covert assistance. Then he, unwisely for himself, declared war against England, leading to a train of events which crystallized the memory of long years of oppression of the French people into revolution. The king did not foresee the consequences. Joseph the Second of Austria was more shrewd. When urged to join the alliance against Great Britain he said—“I am a sovereign, and will not aid to injure my own trade.” The material assistance afforded by France was slight, and at Savannah injurious. The French were at Yorktown, but Cornwallis would have fallen without their aid. Afterwards they not only claimed the laurels, but affected to consider us as a French dependency, and carried it so far as to provoke us to war. We owe France nothing; but we owe much to the memory of the Marquis de la Fayette, who generously placed at our disposal his life and fortune; who was our disinterested friend at a critical period and throughout; and who will be remembered with gratitude so long as the Union remains.HORATIO GATES.Whether Arnold distinguished himself at the first battle of Stillwater may be a moot question. That he was a moving spirit in the second battle is undoubted. The victory was very much due to his exertions. Up to the time of his treason, despite his rapacity and extravagance at Philadelphia, he merited praise for his dash, bravery, and unflinching devotion to the cause of Independence. That he was treated badly by the Congress is true; but that is scarcely a palliation of his infamous conduct in revenge. The Congress seems to have had a faculty for injustice. As it acted towards Arnold, so it did to Paul Jones, John Stark, and Philip Schuyler. But none of the last named revenged themselves by treason. The contrast between the conduct of Arnold and Schuyler is particularly notable. The latter had managed affairs with dexterity,and it was to his prudence, decision, and skill that the surrender of Burgoyne was mainly due. At the last moment he was superseded by Gates, under circumstances calculated to arouse his resentment. Schuyler, unlike Arnold, was not merely a patriot, but a man of honor. He was ready to submit to wrong rather than betray the cause. The conduct of Arnold was the baser from the fact that Washington, who felt that the man had been wronged, labored to do him right, and had placed him in the responsible command of West Point, to pave the way to that distinction his services on the battle-field deserved. Arnold, therefore, added ingratitude and breach of confidence to treason. He seems to have had the courage of a bull-dog, but to have been totally lacking in moral principle.BENEDICT ARNOLD.When I was a boy I met an old Revolutionary soldier who had served under Arnold. He would praise him for his bravery in one minute, and denounce his treachery the next, rarely speaking of him without tears. Hence the idea of the ballad.

LIEUTENANT-GENERAL BURGOYNE.[From an English Print, 1783.]

LIEUTENANT-GENERAL BURGOYNE.

[From an English Print, 1783.]

The way for the operations which resulted in the capture of Burgoyne and his forces was mainly prepared by General Schuyler, who was unjustly replaced by Gates. The battles at Stillwater rendered the result a certainty. The surrender of Burgoyne and his forces, by showing the probability of success, secured the French alliance. The value of that consisted in the fact that it gave Great Britain more to do, and prevented her from crushing the new States, which had declared their independence from “the State of Great Britain.” Up to that time Louis the Sixteenth had only given us covert assistance. Then he, unwisely for himself, declared war against England, leading to a train of events which crystallized the memory of long years of oppression of the French people into revolution. The king did not foresee the consequences. Joseph the Second of Austria was more shrewd. When urged to join the alliance against Great Britain he said—“I am a sovereign, and will not aid to injure my own trade.” The material assistance afforded by France was slight, and at Savannah injurious. The French were at Yorktown, but Cornwallis would have fallen without their aid. Afterwards they not only claimed the laurels, but affected to consider us as a French dependency, and carried it so far as to provoke us to war. We owe France nothing; but we owe much to the memory of the Marquis de la Fayette, who generously placed at our disposal his life and fortune; who was our disinterested friend at a critical period and throughout; and who will be remembered with gratitude so long as the Union remains.

HORATIO GATES.

Whether Arnold distinguished himself at the first battle of Stillwater may be a moot question. That he was a moving spirit in the second battle is undoubted. The victory was very much due to his exertions. Up to the time of his treason, despite his rapacity and extravagance at Philadelphia, he merited praise for his dash, bravery, and unflinching devotion to the cause of Independence. That he was treated badly by the Congress is true; but that is scarcely a palliation of his infamous conduct in revenge. The Congress seems to have had a faculty for injustice. As it acted towards Arnold, so it did to Paul Jones, John Stark, and Philip Schuyler. But none of the last named revenged themselves by treason. The contrast between the conduct of Arnold and Schuyler is particularly notable. The latter had managed affairs with dexterity,and it was to his prudence, decision, and skill that the surrender of Burgoyne was mainly due. At the last moment he was superseded by Gates, under circumstances calculated to arouse his resentment. Schuyler, unlike Arnold, was not merely a patriot, but a man of honor. He was ready to submit to wrong rather than betray the cause. The conduct of Arnold was the baser from the fact that Washington, who felt that the man had been wronged, labored to do him right, and had placed him in the responsible command of West Point, to pave the way to that distinction his services on the battle-field deserved. Arnold, therefore, added ingratitude and breach of confidence to treason. He seems to have had the courage of a bull-dog, but to have been totally lacking in moral principle.

BENEDICT ARNOLD.

When I was a boy I met an old Revolutionary soldier who had served under Arnold. He would praise him for his bravery in one minute, and denounce his treachery the next, rarely speaking of him without tears. Hence the idea of the ballad.

Ah! you mistake me, comrades, to think that my heart is steel,Cased in a cold endurance, nor pleasure nor pain to feel;Cold as I am in my manner, yet over these cheeks so searedTear-drops have fallen in torrents, thrice since my chin grew beard.Thrice since my chin was bearded I suffered the tears to fall:Benedict Arnold, the traitor! he was the cause of them all.Once, when he carried Stillwater, proud of his valor I cried;Then, with my rage at his treason—with pity when André died.Benedict Arnold, the traitor, sank deep in the pit of shame,Bartered for vengeance his honor, blackened for profit his fame;Yet never a gallanter soldier, whatever his after-crime,Fought on the red field of honor than he in his early time.Ah! I remember Stillwater as it were yesterday:Then first I shouldered a firelock, and set out the foemen to slay.The country was up all around us, racing and chasing Burgoyne,And I had gone out with my neighbors, Gates and his forces to join.Marched we with Poor and with Learned, ready and eager to fight;There stood the foemen before us, cannon and men on the height.Onward we trod with no shouting, forbidden to fire till the word;As silent their long line of scarlet—not one of them whispered or stirred

Ah! you mistake me, comrades, to think that my heart is steel,

Cased in a cold endurance, nor pleasure nor pain to feel;

Cold as I am in my manner, yet over these cheeks so seared

Tear-drops have fallen in torrents, thrice since my chin grew beard.

Thrice since my chin was bearded I suffered the tears to fall:Benedict Arnold, the traitor! he was the cause of them all.Once, when he carried Stillwater, proud of his valor I cried;Then, with my rage at his treason—with pity when André died.

Thrice since my chin was bearded I suffered the tears to fall:

Benedict Arnold, the traitor! he was the cause of them all.

Once, when he carried Stillwater, proud of his valor I cried;

Then, with my rage at his treason—with pity when André died.

Benedict Arnold, the traitor, sank deep in the pit of shame,Bartered for vengeance his honor, blackened for profit his fame;Yet never a gallanter soldier, whatever his after-crime,Fought on the red field of honor than he in his early time.

Benedict Arnold, the traitor, sank deep in the pit of shame,

Bartered for vengeance his honor, blackened for profit his fame;

Yet never a gallanter soldier, whatever his after-crime,

Fought on the red field of honor than he in his early time.

Ah! I remember Stillwater as it were yesterday:Then first I shouldered a firelock, and set out the foemen to slay.The country was up all around us, racing and chasing Burgoyne,And I had gone out with my neighbors, Gates and his forces to join.

Ah! I remember Stillwater as it were yesterday:

Then first I shouldered a firelock, and set out the foemen to slay.

The country was up all around us, racing and chasing Burgoyne,

And I had gone out with my neighbors, Gates and his forces to join.

Marched we with Poor and with Learned, ready and eager to fight;There stood the foemen before us, cannon and men on the height.Onward we trod with no shouting, forbidden to fire till the word;As silent their long line of scarlet—not one of them whispered or stirred

Marched we with Poor and with Learned, ready and eager to fight;

There stood the foemen before us, cannon and men on the height.

Onward we trod with no shouting, forbidden to fire till the word;

As silent their long line of scarlet—not one of them whispered or stirred

“FIVE TIMES WE CAPTURED THEIR CANNON, AND FIVE TIMES THEY TOOK THEM AGAIN.”

Suddenly, then, from among them smoke rose and spread on the breeze;Grape-shot flew over us sharply, cutting the limbs from the trees;But onward we pressed till the order of Cilley fell full on the ear,Then we levelled our pieces and fired them, and rushed up the slope with a cheer.Fiercely we charged on their centre, and beat back the stout grenadiers,And wounded the brave Major Ackland, and grappled the swart cannoneers.Five times we captured their cannon, and five times they took them again;But the sixth time we had them we kept them, and with them a share of their men.Our colonel who led us dismounted, high on a cannon he sprang;Over the noise of our shouting clearly his joyous words rang:“These are our own brazen beauties! Here to America’s causeI dedicate each, and to freedom!—foes to King George and his laws!”Worn as we were with the struggle, wounded and bleeding and sore,Some stood all pale and exhausted, some lay there stiff in their gore;And round through the mass went a murmur that grew to a whispering clear,And then to reproaches outspoken—“If General Arnold were here!”For Gates, in his folly and envy, had given the chief no command,And far in the rear some had seen him horseless and moodily stand,Knitting his forehead in anger, and gnawing his red lip in pain,Fretting himself like a blood-hound held back from his prey by a chain.Hark! at our right there is cheering! there is the ruffle of drums!Here is the well-known brown charger! Spurring it madly he comes!Learned’s brigade have espied him, rending the air with a cheer:Woe to the terrified foeman, now that our leader is here!Piercing the tumult behind him, Armstrong is out on his track:Gates has despatched his lieutenant to summon the fugitive back.Armstrong might summon the tempest, order the whirlwind to stay,Issue commands to the earthquake—would they the mandate obey?Wounds, they were healed in a moment, weariness instantly gone:Forward he pointed his sabre—led us, not ordered us on.Down on the Hessians we thundered, he, like a madman, ahead:Vainly they strove to withstand us; raging, they shivered and fled.On to their earthworks we drove them, shaking with ire and dismay;There they made stand with a purpose to beat back the tide of the day.Onward we followed, then faltered; deadly their balls whistled free.Where was our death-daring leader? Arnold, our hope, where was he?He? He was everywhere riding! hither and thither his form,On the brown charger careering, showed us the path of the storm;Over the roar of the cannon, over the musketry’s crash,Sounded his voice, while his sabre lit up the way with its flash.Throwing quick glances around him, reining a moment his steed—“Brooks! that redoubt!” was his order: “let the rest follow my lead!Mark where the smoke-cloud is parting! see where their gun-barrels glance!Livingston, forward! On, Wesson! charge them! Let Morgan advance!”“Forward!” he shouted, and, spurring on through the sally-port then,Fell sword in hand on the Hessians, closely behind him our men.Back shrank the foemen in terror, off went their forces pell-mell,Firing one Parthian volley: struck by it, Arnold he fell.

Suddenly, then, from among them smoke rose and spread on the breeze;

Grape-shot flew over us sharply, cutting the limbs from the trees;

But onward we pressed till the order of Cilley fell full on the ear,

Then we levelled our pieces and fired them, and rushed up the slope with a cheer.

Fiercely we charged on their centre, and beat back the stout grenadiers,And wounded the brave Major Ackland, and grappled the swart cannoneers.Five times we captured their cannon, and five times they took them again;But the sixth time we had them we kept them, and with them a share of their men.

Fiercely we charged on their centre, and beat back the stout grenadiers,

And wounded the brave Major Ackland, and grappled the swart cannoneers.

Five times we captured their cannon, and five times they took them again;

But the sixth time we had them we kept them, and with them a share of their men.

Our colonel who led us dismounted, high on a cannon he sprang;Over the noise of our shouting clearly his joyous words rang:“These are our own brazen beauties! Here to America’s causeI dedicate each, and to freedom!—foes to King George and his laws!”

Our colonel who led us dismounted, high on a cannon he sprang;

Over the noise of our shouting clearly his joyous words rang:

“These are our own brazen beauties! Here to America’s cause

I dedicate each, and to freedom!—foes to King George and his laws!”

Worn as we were with the struggle, wounded and bleeding and sore,Some stood all pale and exhausted, some lay there stiff in their gore;And round through the mass went a murmur that grew to a whispering clear,And then to reproaches outspoken—“If General Arnold were here!”

Worn as we were with the struggle, wounded and bleeding and sore,

Some stood all pale and exhausted, some lay there stiff in their gore;

And round through the mass went a murmur that grew to a whispering clear,

And then to reproaches outspoken—“If General Arnold were here!”

For Gates, in his folly and envy, had given the chief no command,And far in the rear some had seen him horseless and moodily stand,Knitting his forehead in anger, and gnawing his red lip in pain,Fretting himself like a blood-hound held back from his prey by a chain.

For Gates, in his folly and envy, had given the chief no command,

And far in the rear some had seen him horseless and moodily stand,

Knitting his forehead in anger, and gnawing his red lip in pain,

Fretting himself like a blood-hound held back from his prey by a chain.

Hark! at our right there is cheering! there is the ruffle of drums!Here is the well-known brown charger! Spurring it madly he comes!Learned’s brigade have espied him, rending the air with a cheer:Woe to the terrified foeman, now that our leader is here!

Hark! at our right there is cheering! there is the ruffle of drums!

Here is the well-known brown charger! Spurring it madly he comes!

Learned’s brigade have espied him, rending the air with a cheer:

Woe to the terrified foeman, now that our leader is here!

Piercing the tumult behind him, Armstrong is out on his track:Gates has despatched his lieutenant to summon the fugitive back.Armstrong might summon the tempest, order the whirlwind to stay,Issue commands to the earthquake—would they the mandate obey?

Piercing the tumult behind him, Armstrong is out on his track:

Gates has despatched his lieutenant to summon the fugitive back.

Armstrong might summon the tempest, order the whirlwind to stay,

Issue commands to the earthquake—would they the mandate obey?

Wounds, they were healed in a moment, weariness instantly gone:Forward he pointed his sabre—led us, not ordered us on.Down on the Hessians we thundered, he, like a madman, ahead:Vainly they strove to withstand us; raging, they shivered and fled.

Wounds, they were healed in a moment, weariness instantly gone:

Forward he pointed his sabre—led us, not ordered us on.

Down on the Hessians we thundered, he, like a madman, ahead:

Vainly they strove to withstand us; raging, they shivered and fled.

On to their earthworks we drove them, shaking with ire and dismay;There they made stand with a purpose to beat back the tide of the day.Onward we followed, then faltered; deadly their balls whistled free.Where was our death-daring leader? Arnold, our hope, where was he?

On to their earthworks we drove them, shaking with ire and dismay;

There they made stand with a purpose to beat back the tide of the day.

Onward we followed, then faltered; deadly their balls whistled free.

Where was our death-daring leader? Arnold, our hope, where was he?

He? He was everywhere riding! hither and thither his form,On the brown charger careering, showed us the path of the storm;Over the roar of the cannon, over the musketry’s crash,Sounded his voice, while his sabre lit up the way with its flash.

He? He was everywhere riding! hither and thither his form,

On the brown charger careering, showed us the path of the storm;

Over the roar of the cannon, over the musketry’s crash,

Sounded his voice, while his sabre lit up the way with its flash.

Throwing quick glances around him, reining a moment his steed—“Brooks! that redoubt!” was his order: “let the rest follow my lead!Mark where the smoke-cloud is parting! see where their gun-barrels glance!Livingston, forward! On, Wesson! charge them! Let Morgan advance!”

Throwing quick glances around him, reining a moment his steed—

“Brooks! that redoubt!” was his order: “let the rest follow my lead!

Mark where the smoke-cloud is parting! see where their gun-barrels glance!

Livingston, forward! On, Wesson! charge them! Let Morgan advance!”

“Forward!” he shouted, and, spurring on through the sally-port then,Fell sword in hand on the Hessians, closely behind him our men.Back shrank the foemen in terror, off went their forces pell-mell,Firing one Parthian volley: struck by it, Arnold he fell.

“Forward!” he shouted, and, spurring on through the sally-port then,

Fell sword in hand on the Hessians, closely behind him our men.

Back shrank the foemen in terror, off went their forces pell-mell,

Firing one Parthian volley: struck by it, Arnold he fell.

“FIRING ONE PARTHIAN VOLLEY.”

Ours was the day. Up we raised him; spurted the blood from his knee—“Take this cravat, boys, and bind it; I am not dead yet,” said he.“What! did you follow me, Armstrong? Pray, do you think it quite right,Leaving your duties out yonder to risk your dear self in the fight?”“General Gates sent his orders—” faltering the aide-de-camp spoke—“You’re to return, lest some rashness—” Fiercely the speech Arnold broke:“Rashness! Why, yes! tell the general the rashness he dreaded is done!Tell him his kinsfolk are beaten! tell him the battle is won!”Oh, that a soldier so glorious, ever victorious in fight,Passed from a daylight of honor into the terrible night;Fell as the mighty archangel, ere the earth glowed in space, fell—Fell from the patriot’s heaven down to the loyalist’s hell!

Ours was the day. Up we raised him; spurted the blood from his knee—

“Take this cravat, boys, and bind it; I am not dead yet,” said he.

“What! did you follow me, Armstrong? Pray, do you think it quite right,

Leaving your duties out yonder to risk your dear self in the fight?”

“General Gates sent his orders—” faltering the aide-de-camp spoke—“You’re to return, lest some rashness—” Fiercely the speech Arnold broke:“Rashness! Why, yes! tell the general the rashness he dreaded is done!Tell him his kinsfolk are beaten! tell him the battle is won!”

“General Gates sent his orders—” faltering the aide-de-camp spoke—

“You’re to return, lest some rashness—” Fiercely the speech Arnold broke:

“Rashness! Why, yes! tell the general the rashness he dreaded is done!

Tell him his kinsfolk are beaten! tell him the battle is won!”

Oh, that a soldier so glorious, ever victorious in fight,Passed from a daylight of honor into the terrible night;Fell as the mighty archangel, ere the earth glowed in space, fell—Fell from the patriot’s heaven down to the loyalist’s hell!

Oh, that a soldier so glorious, ever victorious in fight,

Passed from a daylight of honor into the terrible night;

Fell as the mighty archangel, ere the earth glowed in space, fell—

Fell from the patriot’s heaven down to the loyalist’s hell!

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