Burgoyne at another time sent a detachment under Colonel Baum to take the stores at Bennington, Vermont. He was met by General Stark and the militia. Stark said, "Here come the redcoats, and we must beat them to-day, or Molly Stark is a widow." This neat little remark made an instantaneous hit, and when they counted up their string of prisoners at night they found they had six hundred souls and a Hessian.
Burgoyne now felt blue and unhappy. Besides, his troops were covered with wood-ticks and had had no washing done for three weeks.
He moved southward and attacked Gates at Bemis Heights, or, as a British wit had it, "gave Gates ajar," near Saratoga. A wavering fight occupied the day, and then both armies turned in and fortified for two weeks. Burgoyne saw that he was running out of food, and so was first to open fire.
Arnold, who had been deprived of his command since the last battle, probably to prevent his wiping out the entire enemy and getting promoted, was so maddened by the conflict that he dashed in before Gates could put him in the guard-house, and at the head of his old command, and without authority or hat, led the attack. Gates did not dare to come where Arnold was, to order him back, for it was a very warm place where Arnold was at the time. The enemy was thus driven to camp.
Arnold was shot in the same leg that was wounded at Quebec; so he was borne back to the extreme rear, where he found Gates eating a doughnut and speaking disrespectfully of Arnold.
A council was now held in Burgoyne's tent, and on the question of renewing the fight stood six to six, when an eighteen-pound hot shot went through the tent, knocking a stylographic pen out of General Burgoyne's hand. Almost at once he decided to surrender, and the entire army of six thousand men was surrendered, together with arms, portable bath-tubs, and leather hat-boxes. The Americans marched into their camp to the tune of Yankee Doodle, which is one of the most impudent compositions ever composed.
KNOCKING A STYLOGRAPHIC PEN OUT OF BURGOYNE'S HAND.
During the Valley Forge winter (1777-78) Continental currency depreciated in value so that an officer's pay would not buy his clothes. Many, having also spent their private funds for the prosecution of the war, were obliged to resign and hire out in the lumber woods in order to get food for their families. Troops had no blankets, and straw was not to be had. It was extremely sad; but there was no wavering. Officers were approached by the enemy with from one hundred to one thousand pounds if they would accept and use their influence to effect a reconciliation; but, with blazing eye and unfaltering attitude, each stated that he was not for sale, and returned to his frozen mud-hole to rest and dream of food and freedom.
Those were the untitled nobility from whom we sprung. Let us look over our personal record and see if we are living lives that are worthy of such heroic sires.