“Humph!”
Of what happened in the two weeks following this battle, history tells but little, for there was little that was decisive. Burgoyne waited for Clinton to come to his assistance. He did not come. Some of his messages did not get through the lines to Burgoyne. The Americans gradually got control of vantage points between the British and their avenue of retreat to Canada. But these were not dull days for the Rangers. There was scouting and skirmishing in which they bore an active part.
On the afternoon of October seventh Rodney brought in word that the British troops were moving, and Gates quickly ordered Morgan forward to engage them. The latter, as was his custom, had obtained a knowledge of the country and he saw a better plan, which was to lead his men around to a wooded hill on the enemy’s flank and attack from there. This suggestion was approved.
“This will begin the end,” remarked a fellow on Rodney’s right.
“Unless Gates blunders,” remarked another.
There before them lay a panorama which might well stir the blood, the finest looking soldiers in the world forming on the plain below.
General Poor’s men were advancing to engage the enemy in front. Now is the moment for Morgan’s men!
How they swept down on those British regulars, loading and shooting as they charged, and every ball finding its mark!
The enemy’s volleys were not those of marksmen and did comparatively little execution. Now Dearborn’s men are charging with the bayonet, and sharpshooters are picking off the British officers. Human beings could not stand under such an onslaught. The enemy’s lines wavered, and then were swept off the field by the soldiers they had ridiculed. What will the King of France think when he hears of this?