fight, or a lack of esprit, for when, a few days subsequently, the men were reduced to one pound of meat, and the same allowance of bread per diem, "they put up," says Riedesel, "with this, as also with all the fatiguing labors, duties, and night watches, with the greatest patience and perseverance."
During the period of inaction which now intervened a part of Burgoyne's army, says the private journal of one of his officers, was so near the Americans that "we could hear his morning and evening guns, his drums, and other noises in his camp very distinctly; but we knew not in the least where he stood, nor how he was posted, much less how strong he was." " Undoubtedly," naïvely adds the journal, "a rare case in such a situation." However, it was supposed that the right wing of the Americans was on the side toward the valley; but in order to settle this point, as well as to collect forage for which the army was reduced to great straits, a "reconnoissance in force" was determined on for the 7th of October.
We pass over the details of this reconnoissance—which resulted in the death of Frazer and the complete defeat of the British—to the retreat that followed on the 8th, the same lack of judgment on the part of Burgoyne is apparent. Had that general, as Riedesel and Phillips advised, fallen immediately back across the Hudson, and taken up his former position behind the Battenkill, not only would his communications with Lake George and Canada have been restored, but he could, at his leisure, have awaited the movements of Clinton. Burgoyne, however, a little before daybreak on the morning of the 9th, gave the order to halt, greatly to the surprise of his whole army. "Every one," says the journal of Riedesel, "was, notwithstanding, then of the opinion that the army would make but a short stand, merely for the better concentration of the army, as all saw that haste was of the utmost necessity, if they would get out of the dangerous trap." At this time the heights near Saratoga were not yet occupied by the Americans, and up to seven o'clock in the morning the retreating army might easily have reached that place, and thrown bridges across the Hudson. Burgoyne, however, thought otherwise, and, against every expectation, gave the surprising order that "the army should bivouac in two lines and await the day." Thus the precious moments, on which the fate of an army, if not of an empire, depended, were squandered. Mr. Bancroft, seemingly with more charity toward the English commander than he has shown to several contemporaneous American generals, ascribes this delay to the fact that Burgoyne "was still clogged with his artillery and baggage, and that the night was dark and the road weakened by rain." But according to the universal testimony of all the manuscript journals extant, the road, which before this was sufficiently strong for the passage of the wagons and baggage, became, during the halt, so bad by the continued rain that
