I endeavored to dispel my melancholy, by continually attending to the wounded. I made them tea and coffee, for which I received their warmest acknowledgments. I often shared my dinner with them. One day a Canadian officer came creeping into our cellar, and was hardly able to say that he was dying with hunger. I felt happy to offer him my dinner, by eating which he recovered his health and I gained his friendship. On our return to Canada I became acquainted with his family.
I also took care of Major Bloomfield, who was wounded by a musket-ball, which passed through both his cheeks, knocked out his teeth and injured his tongue. He could retain nothing in his mouth, and soup and liquids were his only nourishment. Fortunately we had some Rhenish wine, and in the hope that the acidity would contribute to heal his wound, I gave him a bottle, of which he took a little now and then, and with such effect that he was soon cured. I thus acquired a new friend, and enjoyed some happiness in the midst of cares and sufferings, which otherwise would have weighed heavily upon my spirits. On one of these mournful days, General Phillips, wishing to pay me a visit, accompanied my husband, who came once or twice daily, at the risk of his life; and seeing our situation, and observing the entreaties I made to my husband not to be left behind, in case the army should suddenly break up, and my reluctance to fall into the hands of the enemy, he plead my cause, and said, on retiring "I would not, for ten thousand guineas, see this place again. I am heart-broken with what I have seen."
All our companions, however, did not deserve so much commiseration. We had some in our cellars who ought not to have been there, and who afterwards, when we were prisoners, were in perfect health, and walked about quite erect, and strutted as much as they could. We remained six days in this doleful retreat. At last a capitulation was talked of, in consequence of having lost, by useless delays, the opportunity of effecting our retreat. A cessation of hostilities took place, and my husband, who was quite exhausted by fatigue, could now, for the first time, sleep quietly in a little chamber, while I retired with my children and the maid-servants into the adjoining room. Towards one o'clock a person came and asked to speak with him. I was very reluctant to awaken him at that hour of the night; and I soon observed that the errand did not much please him, for he immediately sent the messenger back to the head-quarters, and laid himself down again, out of humor. Soon after this General Burgoyne sent for all the Generals and field-officers to attend a council of war early next morning, when he proposed to break the capitulation, in consequence of some groundless information he had received. It was, however, decided that this step was neither advisable nor practicable; and this determination was very fortunate for us, as the Americans told us after-wards, that, had we broken the treaty, we should all have been cut to pieces. This they could easily have done, as our army was reduced to four or five thousand men, while we had given them time to raise theirs to twenty thousand. On the morning of the 16th, however, my husband was obliged to repair to his post, and I to my cellar.
On the 17th of October the capitulation was carried into effect. The Generals waited upon the American General Gates, and the troops surrendered themselves prisoners of war, and laid down their arms. The time had now come for the good woman, who had risked her life to supply us with water, to receive the reward of her services. Each of us threw a handful of money into her apron; and she thus received more than twenty guineas. At such a moment at least, if at no other, the heart easily overflows with gratitude.
When I drew near the tents, a good-looking man advanced towards me, and helped the children from the calash, and kissed and caressed them; he then offered me his arm, and tears trembled in his eyes. "You tremble," said he; "do not be alarmed, I pray you." "Sir," cried I, "a countenance so expressive of benevolence, and the kindness which you have evinced towards my children, are sufficient to dispel all apprehension." He then ushered me into the tent of General Gates, whom I found engaged in friendly conversation with Generals Burgoyne and Phillips. General Burgoyne said to me: "You can now be quiet, and free from all apprehension of danger." I replied that I should indeed be reprehensible if I felt any anxiety when our General felt none, and was on such friendly terms with General Gates.
All the Generals remained to dine with General Gates. The gentleman who had received me with so much kindness, came and said to me, "You may find it embarrassing to be the only lady in such a large company of gentlemen; will you come with your children to my tent, and partake of a frugal dinner, offered with the best will?" "By the kindness you show to me," returned I, "you induce me to believe that you have a wife and children." He informed me that he was General Schuyler. He regaled me with smoked tongues, which were excellent, with beefsteaks, potatoes, fresh butter, and bread. Never did a dinner give so much pleasure as this. I was easy, after many months of anxiety; and I read the same happy change in those around me. That my husband was out of danger, was a still greater cause of joy. After our dinner, General Schuyler begged me to pay him a visit at his house near Albany, where he expected that General Burgoyne would also be his guest. I sent to ask my husband's directions, who advised me to accept the invitation. As we were two days' journey from Albany, and it was now near five o'clock in the afternoon, he wished me to endeavor to reach, on that day, a place distant about three hours ride. General Schuyler carried his civilities so far as to solicit a well-bred French officer to accompany me on that first part of my journey.
On the next day, we reached Albany, where we had so often wished ourselves; but we did not enter that city, as we hoped we should, with a victorious army. The reception, however, which we met with from General Schuyler, his wife and daughters, was not like the reception of enemies, but of the most intimate friends. They loaded us with kindness; and they behaved in the same manner towards General Burgoyne, though he had ordered their splendid establishment to be burnt, and without any necessity as it was said. But all their actions proved, that at the sight of the misfortunes of others they quickly forgot their own. General Burgoyne was so much affected by this generous deportment, that he said to General Schuyler, "You are too kind to me, who have done you so much injury." "Such is the fate of war," replied he; "let us not dwell on this subject." We remained three days with that excellent family, and they seemed to regret our departure.