persuaded Putnam that the enemy meditated an attack on Fort Inde

pendence. The English during this interval were making the best of their way through the mountains. Governor Clinton had not discovered their approach till very late. They appeared before the two forts at nearly the same time, and having without difficulty repulsed the advanced parties which had been sent out to retard them, they furiously began their attack. Their ships of war had also now made their appearance, and supported them with a near fire. The Americans, though surprised, defended themselves with courage for a considerable length of time; but at length, unable to sustain the reiterated efforts of the assailants, and too feeble to man their fortifications sufficiently, after a severe loss in killed and wounded, they retired.

Those who knew the ground, among whom was governor Clinton, escaped. The slaughter was however great, the English being irritated by the opposition they met, and by the loss of some favorite officers. The Americans set fire to their frigates and gallies, which, with their stores and ammunition, were all consumed; but the English got possession of the boom and chain.

In a day or two after, Forts Independence and Constitution, upon the approach of the enemy with his land and naval forces, were set on fire, and evacuated by their defenders. Tryon was sent on the ninth, at the head of a detachment, to destroy a thriving settlement, called Continental Village, where the republicans had deposited a great quantity of stores.

Thus fell into the power of the English these important passages of the mountains of the Hudson, which the Americans had labored to defend by every mode of fortification. They were justly considered as the keys of the county of Albany. It is therefore evident, that if the royalists had been more numerous, they might have extended an efficacious succour to the army of Burgoyne, and perhaps, decided in their favor the final issue of the northern war. But they could not take part in it, as well because they were much too weak, as that Putnam, whose army was now increased by the militia of Connecticut, New York, and New Jersey, to six thousand men, menaced them both in front and rear.

Unable to conquer, the English set themselves to sack the country. The thirteenth of October, Sir James Wallace, with a flying squadron of light frigates, and general Vaughan with a considerable detachment of troops, made an excursion up the river, carrying slaughter and destruction wherever they went; a barbarity of conduct the more execrable, as it was not justified by the least necessity or utility. They marched to a rich and flourishing village, called Kingston or Esopus, upon the western bank of the river; having driven the republicans out of it by a furious cannonade, they set fire to it on every side. All was consumed; not a house was left standing. Exten

sive magazines of provisions and military stores, were also consigned to the flames. In order to justify these atrocities it was alleged by Vaughan that the Americans had fired through the windows; a fact which they denied with greater probability of truth. For it appears that they evacuated the town as soon as they saw the royal troops were disembarked upon the neighboring shore. The English committed these excesses at the very time that Burgoyne was receiving from general Gates the most honorable conditions for himself and a ruined army.

The American wrote Vaughan a letter full of energy and just indignation; he complained in sharp terms of the burning of Esopus, and of the horrible devastations committed upon the two banks of the Hudson. He concluded with saying; Is it thus that the generals of the king expect to make converts to the royal cause? Their cruelties operate a contrary effect; independence is founded upon the universal disgust of the people. The fortune of war has delivered into my hands older and abler generals than general Vaughan is reputed to be; their condition may one day become his, and then no human power can save him from the just vengeance of an offended people.'

But Vaughan and Wallace having heard that Gates was marching rapidly upon them, resolved not to wait his approach. Having dismantled the forts, and carrying off their booty, they retired from this quarter, and uniting with the remainder of the troops of Clinton, returned with no ordinary speed to New York.

Upon the whole, the loss which the United States sustained from this expedition of the English upon the banks of the Hudson, was extremely severe; for it being universally believed that these elevated and precipitous places were absolutely inaccessible to the fury of the enemy, the Americans had deposited there an immense quantity of arms, ammunition and stores of all sorts.

The artillery lost, including that of the forts, and that of the vessels destroyed or taken, amounted to more than a hundred pieces of different sizes. To which must be added, fifteen or twenty thousand pounds of powder, balls in proportion, and all the implements necessary to the daily service of the artillery.

Meanwhile, the captive army was marched towards Boston. On its departure from Saratoga, it passed in the midst of the ranks of the victorious troops, who were formed in order of battle for this purpose along the road and upon the hills which border the two sides of it. The English expected to be scoffed at and insulted. Not an American uttered a syllable; a memorable example of moderation and military discipline! The prisoners, particularly those incorrigible Germans, ravaged whatever they could lay their hands on during the march; the inhabitants could judge by what they did, being vanquished, of what they would have done, had they been victors. They

arrived at Boston, and were lodged in the barracks of Cambridge. The inhabitants held them in abhorrence; they could not forget the burning of Charlestown, and the late devastations.

Burgoyne, after the capitulation, experienced the most courteous attentions on the part of the American generals. Gates invited him to his table; he appeared silent and dejected. The conversation was guarded, and to spare his feelings nothing was said of the late events; only he was asked how he could find in his heart to burn the houses of poor people. He answered that such were his orders, and that, besides, he was authorised to do it by the laws of war. Certain individuals in New England, without delicacy as without reserve, loaded him with insults. But this was confined to the populace. Well educated men treated him with marked civility. General

Schuyler, among others, politely despatched an aid-de-camp, to accompany him to Albany. He lodged him in his own house, where his wife received him in the most flattering manner. Yet Burgoyne, in the neighborhood of Saratoga, where Schuyler possessed extensive estates, had devoted to the flames his magnificent villa, with its moveables and dependencies, valued at more than thirty-seven thousand dollars. At Boston, Burgoyne was likewise lodged in the habitation of general Heath, who commanded in Massachusetts; he there wanted for no attention. He walked at his pleasure through the city, without ever having found occasion to complain of outrage.

But the other officers did not experience the same reception; the Bostonians would not lodge them in their houses, and therefore it became necessary to distribute them in the barracks. Burgoyne complained of it, at first, to general Heath, and afterwards to Gates. He insisted that a treatment of his officers so little conformable to their rank, was a violation of the convention of Saratoga. Moreover, fearing that the season, already advanced, might not permit the transports to arrive soon enough at Boston, where the embarkation was appointed by the capitulation, he requested Washington to consent that it should take place at Newport, in Rhode Island, or at some other port of the Sound. Washington, not thinking himself authorised to decide upon this request, submitted it to the determination of Congress. That body was much displeased at this verbal discussion, and especially at the imputation of a breach of faith; apprehending it might be a pretext which Burgoyne was inclined to use for not keeping his own.

It appeared, besides, to the Congress, that the vessels assembled at Boston for the transport of the troops, were neither sufficient for so great a number, nor furnished with provisions enough for so long á voyage. Finally, they observed that the English had not strictly fulfilled the stipulation in respect to the surrender of arms, as they had retained their cartridge boxes, and other effects, which, if not actually arms, are of indispensable use to those who bear them.

Gates undertook to justify the English upon this point, and with complete success. But the Congress had need of a quarrel, and therefore sought the grounds. They wished to retard the embarkation of the prisoners, under the apprehension that, in defiance of treaties, they would go to join general Howe, or at least, that arriving too early in England, the government would be able to fill their place immediately by an equal number in America. They decreed, therefore, that general Burgoyne should furnish the rolls of his army, that a list might be taken of the name and rank of every commissioned officer; with the name, former place of abode, occupation, size, age and description of every noncommissioned officer and private soldier.

Burgoyne considered this demand extraordinary, and therefore resorted to various subterfuges in order to evade compliance. General Howe, on his part, proceeded with much subtility and illiberality in the exchange of prisoners; and thus the discontents and suspicions were continually increased.

The ambiguous conduct of each of these generals alarmed the Congress exceedingly; they decreed, therefore, that the embarkation of Burgoyne and all the captive troops should be suspended, until a distinct and explicit ratification of the convention of Saratoga should be properly notified to Congress by the court of Great Britain. At the same time they sent directions to general Heath, to order any vessels which might have arrived, or which should arrive, for the transportation of the army, to quit the port of Boston without delay. An additional force was also provided to guard the British army. Burgoyne then addressed a letter to Congress, in which he endeavored to justify his conduct; he protested that he had never thought himself released from the conditions of the convention of Saratoga, and affirmed that all his officers individually were ready to give their written promise to observe all the articles of that capitulation. All was in vain; Congress was inflexible; and the prisoners had to make up their minds to remain in America. This decision they took in great dudgeon; and it served as a pretext for the partisans of the ministry to charge the Americans with perfidy. We shall not undertake to decide whether the fears manifested by Congress had a real foundation; and we shall abstain as well from blaming the imprudence of Burgoyne, as from praising the wisdom, or condemning the distrust of the Congress.

It is but too certain that in these civil dissentions and animosities, appearances become realities, and probabilities demonstration. Accordingly, at that time the Americans complained bitterly of British perfidy, and the English of American want of faith.

Finding that he could obtain nothing for others, Burgoyne solicited for himself, and easily got permission to return to England. As soon as he was arrived in London, he began to declaim with virulence

against those ministers, whose favor a little before he had used every means to captivate, and who had given him, to the prejudice of a general approved by long services, an opportunity to distinguish his name by a glorious enterprise. Burgoyne wanted neither an active genius nor military science and experience; but formed in the wars of Germany, his movements were made with caution, and extreme deliberation, and never till all circumstances united to favor them. He would, upon no consideration, have attacked an enemy, until the minutest precepts of the military art had all been faithfully observed. This was totally mistaking the nature of the American war, which required to be carried on with vigor and spirit. In a region like America, broken by so many defiles and fastnesses, against an enemy so able to profit of them, by scouring the country, by preparing ambuscades, by intercepting convoys and retreats, the celerity which might involve a transient peril, was assuredly preferable to the slowness which, under its apparent security, concealed a future and inevitable danger.

This general lost the opportunity to conquer, because he would never run the risk of defeat; and as he would put nothing in the power of fortune, she seemed to have thought him unworthy of her favors. Moreover, the employment of savages in the wars of civilised nations, was never the source of durable success; nor was it ever the practice of prudent generals to provoke the enemy by threats, or to exasperate him by ravages and conflagrations.

While these events were passing in the north, admiral and general Howe were at sea, undecided whether to enter the Delaware, or to take the route of the Chesapeake bay, in order to march against Philadelphia. Washington continued in New Jersey, prepared to defend the passages of the Hudson, if the British army should have taken that direction, or to cover Philadelphia, should it threaten that city. But while waiting for certain information respecting the movements and plans of the British generals, he neglected none of those measures which were proper to place his army in a situation to resist the storm that was about to burst upon it. He collected arms and ammunition, called out the militia of the neighboring provinces, and ordered to join him all the regiments of regular troops that were not necessary for the defence of the Hudson. These different corps were continually exercised in arms and military evolutions; wherein they derived great advantage from the example and instructions of the French officers who had recently entered the service of the United States. Among these, the splendor of rank added to the fascination of his personal qualities, eminently distinguished the marquis de la Fayette. Animated by the enthusiasm which generous minds are wont to feel for great enterprises, he espoused the cause of the Americans with a partiality common to almost all the men of that time, and particularly to the French. He considered it not only just,