enemy's attention, and led his column to within three-quarters of a mile
from the left of Gates' camp, and then deployed his men into line. The
grenadiers under Major Ackland were drawn up on the left, a corps of
Germans in the centre, and the English light infantry and the
Twenty-fourth regiment on the right. But Gates did not wait to be
attacked; and directly the British line was formed and began to advance,
the American general, with admirable skill, caused a strong force to
make a sudden and vehement rush against its left. The grenadiers under
Ackland sustained the charge of superior numbers nobly. But Gates sent
more Americans forward, and in a few minutes the action became general
along the centre, so as to prevent the Germans from sending any help to
the grenadiers.
Burgoyne's right was not yet engaged; but a mass of the enemy were
observed advancing from their extreme left, with the evident intention
of turning the British right and cutting off its retreat. The light
infantry and the Twenty-fourth now fell back, and formed an oblique
second line which enabled them to baffle this manoeuvre, and also to
succor their comrades in the left wing, the gallant grenadiers, who were
overpowered by superior numbers, and, but for this aid, must have been
cut to pieces. Arnold now came up with three American regiments and
attacked the right flanks of the English double line.
Burgoyne's whole force was soon compelled to retreat toward their camp;
the left and centre were in complete disorder; but the light infantry
and the Twenty-fourth checked the fury of the assailants, and the
remains of Burgoyne's column with great difficulty effected their return
to their camp, leaving six of their guns in the possession of the enemy,
and great numbers of killed and wounded on the field; and especially a
large proportion of the artillerymen, who had stood to their guns until
shot down or bayoneted beside them by the advancing Americans.
Burgoyne's column had been defeated, but the action was not yet over.
The English had scarcely entered the camp, when the Americans, pursuing
their success, assaulted it in several places with uncommon fierceness,
rushing to the lines through a severe fire of grape-shot and musketry
with the utmost fury. Arnold especially, who on this day appeared
maddened with the thirst of combat and carnage, urged on the attack
against a part of the intrenchments which was occupied by the light
infantry under Lord Balcarras. But the English received him with vigor
and spirit. The struggle here was obstinate and sanguinary. At length,
as it grew toward evening, Arnold having forced all obstacles, entered
the works with some of the most fearless of his followers. But in this
critical moment of glory and danger, he received a painful wound in the
same leg which had already been injured at the assault on Quebec. To his
bitter regret, he was obliged to be carried back. His party still
continued the attack; but the English also continued their obstinate
resistance and at last night fell, and the assailants withdrew from this
quarter of the British intrenchments.
But in another part the attack had been more successful. A body of the
Americans, under Colonel Brooke, forced their way in through a part of
the intrenchments on the extreme right, which was defended by the German
reserve under Colonel Breyman. The Germans resisted well, and Breyman
died in defence of his post, but the Americans made good the ground
which they had won, and captured baggage, tents, artillery, and a store
of ammunition, which they were greatly in need of. They had, by
establishing themselves on this point, acquired the means of completely
turning the right flank of the British and gaining their rear.
To prevent this calamity, Burgoyne effected during the night a complete
change of position. With great skill he removed his whole army to some
heights near the river, a little northward of the former camp, and he
there drew up his men, expecting to be attacked on the following day.
But Gates was resolved not to risk the certain triumph which his success
had already secured for him. He harassed the English with skirmishes,
but attempted no regular attack. Meanwhile he detached bodies of troops
on both sides of the Hudson to prevent the British from recrossing that
river and to bar their retreat. When night fell it became absolutely
necessary for Burgoyne to retire again, and, accordingly, the troops
were marched through a stormy and rainy night toward Saratoga,
abandoning their sick and wounded, and the greater part of their baggage
to the enemy.
Before the rear-guard quitted the camp, the last sad honors were paid to
the brave General Frazer, who had been mortally wounded on the 7th, and
expired on the following day. The funeral of this gallant soldier is
thus described by the Italian historian Botta:
"Toward midnight the body of General Frazer was buried in the British
camp. His brother-officers assembled sadly round while the funeral
service was read over the remains of their brave comrade, and his body
was committed to the hostile earth. The ceremony, always mournful and
solemn of itself, was rendered even terrible by the sense of recent
losses, of present and future dangers, and of regret for the deceased.
Meanwhile the blaze and roar of the American artillery amid the natural
darkness and stillness of the night came on the senses with startling
awe. The grave had been dug within range of the enemy's batteries, and,
while the service was proceeding, a cannon-ball struck the ground close
to the coffin, and spattered earth over the face of the officiating
chaplain."
Burgoyne now took up his last position on the heights near Saratoga; and
hemmed in by the enemy, who refused any encounter, and baffled in all
his attempts at finding a path of escape, he there lingered until famine
compelled him to capitulate. The fortitude of the British army during
this melancholy period has been justly eulogized by many native
historians, but I prefer quoting the testimony of a foreign writer, as
free from all possibility of partiality. Botta says:
"It exceeds the power of words to describe the pitiable condition to
which the British army was now reduced. The troops were worn down by a
series of toil, privation, sickness, and desperate fighting. They were
abandoned by the Indians and Canadians, and the effective force of the
whole army was now diminished by repeated and heavy losses, which had
principally fallen on the best soldiers and the most distinguished
officers, from ten thousand combatants to less than one-half that
number. Of this remnant little more than three thousand were English.
"In these circumstances, and thus weakened, they were invested by an
army of four times their own numbers whose position extended three parts
of a circle round them, who refused to fight them, as knowing their
weakness, and who, from the nature of the ground, could not be attacked
in any part. In this helpless condition, obliged to be constantly under
arms, while the enemy's cannon played on every part of their camp, and
even the American rifle-balls whistled in many parts of the lines, the
troops of Burgoyne retained their customary firmness, and, while sinking
under a hard necessity, they showed themselves worthy of a better fate.
They could not be reproached with an action or a word which betrayed a
want of temper or of fortitude."
At length October 13th arrived, and as no prospect of assistance
appeared, and the provisions were nearly exhausted, Burgoyne, by the
unanimous advice of a council of war, sent a messenger to the American
camp to treat of a convention.
General Gates in the first instance demanded that the royal army should
surrender prisoners of war. He also proposed that the British should
ground their arms. Burgoyne replied:
"This article is inadmissible in every extremity; sooner than this army
will consent to ground their arms in their encampment they will rush on
the enemy, determined to take no quarter."
After various messages, a convention for the surrender of the army was
settled, which provided that "the troops under General Burgoyne were to
march out of their camp with the honors of war, and the artillery of the
intrenchments, to the verge of the river, where the arms and artillery
were to be left. The arms to be piled by word of command from their own
officers. A free passage was to be granted to the army under
Lieutenant-General Burgoyne to Great Britain, under condition of not
serving again in North America during the present contest."
The articles of capitulation were settled on October 15th, and on that
very evening a messenger arrived from Clinton with an account of his
successes, and with the tidings that part of his force had penetrated as
far as Esopus, within fifty miles of Burgoyne's camp. But it was too
late. The public faith was pledged; and the army was indeed too
debilitated by fatigue and hunger to resist an attack, if made; and
Gates certainly would have made it if the convention had been broken
off. Accordingly, on the 17th, the Convention of Saratoga was carried
into effect. By this convention five thousand seven hundred ninety men
surrendered themselves as prisoners. The sick and wounded left in the
camp when the British retreated to Saratoga, together with the numbers
of the British, German, and Canadian troops who were killed, wounded, or
taken, and who had deserted in the preceding part of the expedition,
were reckoned to be four thousand six hundred eighty-nine.
The British sick and wounded who had fallen into the hands of the
Americans after the battle of the 7th were treated with exemplary
humanity: and when the convention was executed, General Gates showed a
notable delicacy of feeling, which deserves the highest degree of honor.
Every circumstance was avoided which could give the appearance of
triumph. The American troops remained within their lines until the
British had piled their arms; and when this was done, the vanquished
officers and soldiers were received with friendly kindness by their
victors, and their immediate wants were promptly and liberally supplied.
Discussions and disputes afterward arose as to some of the terms of the
convention, and the American Congress refused for a long time to carry
into effect the article which provided for the return of Burgoyne's men
to Europe; but no blame was imputable to General Gates or his army, who
showed themselves to be generous as they had proved themselves to be
brave.
Gates, after the victory, immediately despatched Colonel Wilkinson to
carry the happy tidings to Congress. On being introduced into the hall
he said: "The whole British army has laid down its arms at Saratoga;
our own, full of vigor and courage, expect your orders. It is for your
wisdom to decide where the country may still have need for their
service."
Honors and rewards were liberally voted by the Congress to their
conquering general and his men; and it would be difficult, says the
Italian historian, to describe the transports of joy which the news of
this event excited among the Americans. They began to flatter themselves
with a still more happy future. No one any longer felt any doubt about
their achieving their independence. All hoped, and with good reason,
that a success of this importance would at length determine France, and
the other European powers that waited for her example, to declare
themselves in favor of America. "There could no longer be any question
respecting the future, since there was no longer the risk of espousing
the cause of a people too feeble to defend themselves."
The truth of this was soon displayed in the conduct of France. When the
news arrived at Paris of the capture of Ticonderoga, and of the
victorious march of Burgoyne toward Albany, events which seemed decisive
in favor of the English, instructions had been immediately despatched to
Nantes and the other ports of the kingdom that no American privateers
should be suffered to enter them, except from indispensable necessity;
as to repair their vessels, to obtain provisions, or to escape the
perils of the sea.
The American commissioners at Paris, in their disgust and despair, had
almost broken off all negotiations with the French Government; and they
even endeavored to open communications with the British Ministry. But
the British Government, elated with the first successes of Burgoyne,
refused to listen to any overtures for accommodation. But when the news
of Saratoga reached Paris the whole scene was changed. Franklin and his
brother-commissioners found all their difficulties with the French
Government vanish. The time seemed to have arrived for the house of
Bourbon to take a full revenge for all its humiliations and losses in
previous wars. In December a treaty was arranged, and formally signed in
the February following, by which France acknowledged _the Independent
United States of America_. This was, of course, tantamount to a
declaration of war with England.
Spain soon followed France; and, before long, Holland took the same
course. Largely aided by French fleets and troops, the Americans
vigorously maintained the war against the armies which England, in spite
of her European foes, continued to send across the Atlantic. But the
struggle was too unequal to be maintained by Great Britain for many
years; and when the treaties of 1783 restored peace to the world, the
independence of the United States was reluctantly recognized by their
ancient parent and recent enemy.
FIRST VICTORY OF THE AMERICAN NAVY
A.D. 1779
ALEXANDER SLIDELL MACKENZIE
American naval officers look back with intensest pride to
Paul Jones, their earliest hero, the founder of those high
traditions which have done so much to raise the navy to its
present standard of efficiency. Decatur, Perry, Farragut,
Dewey, these and a thousand others of their kind, have but
followed the lead of Paul Jones, have learned their deepest
lesson in the thrill that came to each of them in boyhood on
hearing that proud defiance hurled at the ancient mistress
of the seas, "I have not yet begun to fight."
Although much greater sea-battles, in point of numbers of
both ships and men engaged, are recorded in history, yet
this, the first naval engagement by an American vessel, is
counted among the most famous of all on account of its
stubbornness. The child was matched against the parent; an
American vessel against a British, the latter far the
stronger. The combat was mainly between the Bonhomme
Richard, Jones' ship, with forty guns, many of them
unserviceable, and the British ship, Serapis, of superior
armament, as shown below.
John Paul Jones, commonly known as Paul Jones, was born in
Scotland in 1747, the son of John Paul, a gardener. He
emigrated to Virginia, and, assuming the name of Jones,
became first lieutenant (1775) in the American navy. When in
1778 France joined the colonies against England, Jones, who
had already performed several noteworthy exploits, was in
that country. Through the influence of Franklin an old
merchant vessel, the Duc de Duras, was converted into a
ship-of-war and, with four others, placed under the command
of Jones. In honor of Franklin he named the Duras "Poor
Richard," and, in compliment to the French language and
people, she was called the Bonhomme Richard, the French
colloquial equivalent.
With a squadron of five ships, each except his own under a
French commander and three of them with French crews as
well, Jones sailed from L'Orient, France, August 14, 1779.
He passed around the west coast of Ireland and around
Scotland. There was much discontent among the French
officers, and, though four of his ships were still with him
when he sighted the Baltic fleet, Jones could not count on
loyal service, especially from the Alliance, whose captain
had already shown much insubordination.
The memorable fight has never been better described than in
the following plain and direct account of Mackenzie,
himself an officer of the United States navy.
The battle between the Bonhomme and the Serapis is invested with a
heroic interest of the highest stamp. Jones had been cruising off the
mouth of the Humber and along the Yorkshire coast, intercepting the
colliers bound to London, many of which he destroyed (1779). On the
morning of September 23d he fell in with the Alliance.[27] This
rencounter was a real misfortune; as, in the battle which ensued, the
former disobedience and mad vagaries of Landais, her commander, were
about to be converted into absolute treason. The squadron now consisted
of the Richard, the Alliance, the Pallas, and the Vengeance.
About noon Jones despatched his second lieutenant, Henry Lunt, with
fifteen of his best men, to take possession of a brigantine which he had
chased ashore. Soon after, as the squadron was standing to the northward
toward Flamborough Head, with a light breeze from south-southwest,
chasing a ship, which was seen doubling the cape, in opening the view
beyond, they gradually came in sight of a fleet of forty-one sail
running down the coast from the northward, very close in with the land.
On questioning the pilot, the Commodore discovered that this was the
Baltic fleet, with which he had been so anxious to fall in, and that it
was under convoy of the Serapis, a new ship, of an improved
construction, mounting forty-four guns, and the Countess of Scarborough,
of twenty guns.
Signal was immediately made to form the line of battle, which the
Alliance, as usual, disregarded. The Richard crossed her royal yards,
and immediately gave chase to the northward, under all sail, to get
between the enemy and the land. At the same time signal of recall was
made to the pilot of the boat; but she did not return until after the
action. On discovering the American squadron, the headmost ships of the
convoy were seen to haul their wind suddenly and go about so as to
stretch back under the land toward Scarborough and place themselves
under cover of the cruisers; at the same time they fired signal-guns,
let fly their topgallant sheets, and showed every symptom of confusion
and alarm. Soon afterward the Serapis was seen reaching to windward to
get between the convoy and the American ships, which she soon effected.
At four o'clock the English cruisers were in sight from deck. The
Countess of Scarborough was standing out to join the Serapis, which was
lying-to for her, while the convoy continued to run for the fort, in
obedience to the signals displayed from the Serapis, which was also seen
to fire guns. At half-past five the two ships had joined company, when
the Serapis made sail by the wind; at six both vessels tacked, heading
up to the westward, across the bows of the Richard, so as to keep their
position between her and the convoy.
The opposing ships thus continued to approach each other slowly under
the light southwesterly air. The weather was beautifully serene, and the
breeze, being off the land, which was now close on board, produced no
ripple on the water, which lay still and peaceful, offering a fair field
to the combatants about to grapple in such deadly strife. The decks of
the opposing vessels were long since cleared for action, and ample
leisure remained for reflection, as the ships glided toward each other
at a rate but little in accordance with the impatience of the opponents.
From the projecting promontory of Flamborough Head, which was less than
a league distant, thousands of the inhabitants, whom the recent attempt
upon Leith had made aware of the character of the American ships, and
the reckless daring of their leader, looked down upon the scene,
awaiting the result with intense anxiety. The ships also were in sight
from Scarborough, the inhabitants of which thronged the piers. The sun
had already sunk behind the land before the ships were within gun-shot
of each other; but a full harvest-moon rising above the opposite
horizon, lighted the combatants in their search for each other, and
served to reveal the approaching scene to the spectators on the land
with a vague distinctness which rendered it only the more terrible.
We have seen that the Alliance had utterly disregarded the signal to
form the line of battle when the Baltic fleet was first discovered, and
our squadron bore down upon them. She stood for the enemy without
reference to her station, and, greatly out-sailing the other vessels,
was much sooner in a condition to engage. Captain Landais seemed for
once to be actuated by a chivalrous motive and likely to do something to
redeem the guilt of his disobedience. The officers of the Richard were
watching this new instance of eccentricity, for which Landais' past
conduct had not prepared them, with no little surprise; when after
getting near to where the Serapis lay, with her courses hauled up, and
St. George's ensign--the white cross of England--proudly displayed, he
suddenly hauled his wind, leaving the path of honor open to his
commander. While the Pallas stood for the Countess of Scarborough, the
Alliance sought a position in which she could contemplate the double
engagement without risk, as though her commander had been chosen umpire,
instead of being a party interested in the approaching battle. Soon
afterward the Serapis was seen to hoist the red ensign instead of St.
George's, and it was subsequently known that her captain had nailed it
to the flag-staff with his own hand.
About half-past seven the Bonhomme Richard hauled up her courses and
rounded-to on the weather or larboard quarter of the Serapis, and within
pistol-shot, and steered a nearly parallel course, though gradually
edging down upon her. The Serapis now triced up her lower-deck ports,
showing two complete batteries, besides her spar deck, lighted up for
action, and making a most formidable appearance. At this moment Captain
Pearson, her commander, hailed the Bonhomme Richard and demanded, "What
ship is that?" Answer was made, "I can't hear what you say." The hail
was repeated: "What ship is that? Answer immediately, or I shall be
under the necessity of firing into you!" A shot was fired in reply by
the Bonhomme Richard, which was instantly followed by a broadside from
each vessel. Two of the three old eighteen-pounders in the Richard's
gunroom burst at the first fire, spreading around an awful scene of
carnage. Jones immediately gave orders to close the lower-deck ports and
abandon that battery during the rest of the action.
The Richard, having kept her headway and becalmed the sails of the
Serapis, passed across her forefoot, when the Serapis, luffing across
the stern of the Richard, came up in turn on the weather or larboard
quarter; and, after an exchange of several broadsides from the fresh
batteries, which did great damage to the rotten sides of the Richard and
caused her to leak badly, the Serapis likewise becalmed the sails of the
Richard, passed ahead, and soon after bore up and attempted to cross her
forefoot so as to rake her from stem to stern.
Finding, however, that he had not room for the evolution, and that the
Richard would be on board of him, Captain Pearson put his helm a-lee,
which brought the two ships in a line ahead, and, the Serapis having
lost her headway by the attempted evolution, the Richard ran into her
weather or larboard quarter. While in this position, neither ship being
able to use her great guns, Jones attempted to board the Serapis, but
was repulsed, when Captain Pearson hailed him and asked, "Has your ship
struck?" to which he at once returned the immortal answer:
"_I have not yet begun to fight!_"