82. A German Lady's Campaign
BY MADAME RIEDESEL
(1777)[205]
WHEN the army broke up, on the 11th of September, 1777, I was
at first told that I must
remain behind; but on my repeated entreaties, and as other ladies had
been permitted to follow the
army, the same indulgence was extended to me.
We advanced by short journeys, and went through many toils;
yet I would have
purchased at any price the privilege thus granted to me of seeing daily
my husband. I had sent
back my baggage, and only kept a small bundle of summer dresses.
In the beginning all went well, we thought that there was little
doubt of our being
successful, and of reaching "the promised land," and when on the
passage across the Hudson,
general Burgoyne exclaimed, "Britons never retrograde," our spirits
rose mightily.
I observed, however, with surprise, that the wives of the
officers were beforehand
informed of all the military plans; and I was so much the more struck
with it, as I remembered with how much secrecy all dispositions were
made in the armies of Duke
Ferdinand, during the seven-years'
war.
[206]
Thus the Americans anticipated all our movements, and
expected us wherever we
arrived: and this of course injured our affairs.
For our farther march, I had caused a calash to be made for
me,[207] in which I could take, not only
my children, but also my two female attendants: and thus I followed
the army in the midst of the troops, who were in great spirits, and sang
and longed for victory.
We marched through endless forests, and a beautiful district,
though deserted by the
inhabitants, who ran away at our approach, to reinforce General Gates'
army. They are naturally
soldiers, and excellent marksmen, and the idea of fighting for their
country and their liberty,
increased their innate courage.
My husband was encamped with the rest of the army: being
myself about an hour's ride
behind the army, I went every morning to pay him a visit in the camp,
and sometimes I dined there
with him, but generally he took his dinner in my quarters.
But all at once, on the 7th of October, he marched away with
the whole staff, and then
our misfortunes began. While breakfasting with my husband, I heard
that something was under
contemplation. General Fraser, and, I believe, Generals Burgoyne and
Phillips, were to dine with
me on that day.
I remarked much movement in the camp. My husband told me
that it was a mere
reconnoissance; and as this was frequent, I was not much alarmed at it.
On my way homeward, I
met a number of Indians armed with guns, and clad in their war
dresses. I asked them where they
were going, and they replied
"War, war"; by which they meant that they were about to fight.
This made me very uneasy, and I had scarcely reached home,
before I heard reports of
guns; and
soon the fire became brisker, till at last the noise grew dreadful, upon
which I was more dead than
alive. About three o'clock in the afternoon, instead of guests whom I
had expected to dine with
me, I saw one of them, poor General Fraser, brought upon a hand-barrow, mortally wounded.
The table, which was already prepared for dinner, was
immediately removed, and a bed
placed in its stead for the general. I sat terrified and trembling in a
corner. The noise grew more
alarming, and I was in a continual agony and tremor, while thinking
that my husband might soon
also be brought in, wounded like General Fraser.
That poor general said to the surgeon, "tell me the truth: is
there no hope?" I heard often
amid his groans, such words as these, "O bad ambition! poor General
Burgoyne! poor Mistress
Fraser." . . !
Orders had already been issued, that the army should break up
immediately after the
funeral, and our calashes were ready. I was unwilling to depart sooner.
Major Harnage, though
hardly able to walk a step, left his bed, that he might not remain in the
hospital, upon which a flag
of truce had been erected.
When he saw me thus in the midst of danger, he put my
children and female attendants
into the vehicle, and told me that I had not a moment to lose. I begged
to be permitted to remain a
little longer. "Do what you please," replied he; "but your children I
must at least save."
[[205]]
The bold lady who wrote this and the next
piece was the wife of a general who
commanded some of the Hessian troops in Burgoyne's invasion of
1777. She insisted on going
with her husband and taking her children along.
[[206]]
In Germany (1756-1763)
[[207]]
Calash, a little Canadian carriage.