The British troops were marched to a particular spot, where they grounded their arms. They were allowed a free passage to Europe, being pledged not to serve again during the war. Gates and Burgoyne met at the head of their respective staffs. The British general was in rich, royal uniform. Gates appeared in a plain blue frock.
“The fortune of war,” said Burgoyne, “has made me your prisoner.”
Gates replied: “I shall always be ready to testify that it has not been through any fault of your Excellency.”
Burgoyne and all his officers bore unequivocal and constant testimony to the extraordinary humanity and politeness with which all the captives were treated.[161]
Washington was at this time not far from Germantown, with a force, including militia, of about eleven thousand men. The British fleet could not ascend the Delaware to Philadelphia, in consequence of obstructions which had been placed in the river. Washington wrote to Congress:
“If these can be maintained, General Howe’s situation will not be the most agreeable. For if his supplies can be stopped by water, it may easily be done by land, and I am not without hopes that the acquisition of Philadelphia may, instead of his good fortune, prove his ruin.”[162]
No one familiar with military affairs can critically examine the record of these events without the conviction that neither the campaigns of Napoleon I., nor of Frederic, called the Great, exhibit any more consummate generalship than the commander-in-chief of the American armies displayed through these trying scenes. Washington was head and shoulders above any of his generals. There was no one of them whom the voice of impartial history pronounces to be, in any respect, his rival. There was probably not one but he, who could have carried our country successfully through the terrible ordeal.
A large force of the British was encamped at Germantown, a small village but a few miles out from Philadelphia. The settlement consisted of a single street, about two miles long, running north and south. The houses were generally one story, sometimes of stone, standing apart from each other, surrounded with yards and gardens.
Washington, as bold as he was cautious, ever watching for an opportunity to strike a blow, and ever avoiding to strike where he would receive a heavier blow in return, formed the plan to attack the foe by surprise. The plan was admirably arranged and heroically executed. It would have proved a signal success but for one of those accidents which no human foresight can foresee.
In the gathering darkness of the evening of the 2d of October, he commenced a march of fifteen miles, over roads so rough that the morning was beginning to dawn gloomily through clouds and a dense fog, when he approached the British encampment. The British sentries gave the alarm. The roll of drums and bugle-peals rap sublimely along the extended lines of the foe, rousing the sleepers to battle. Washington hurled his troops upon them, with the impetuosity which ever characterized his attacks.