Gen. Schuyler's dwelling-house also, and his other buildings, standing on a beautiful area a little south-east of the mills on the south side of the creek, suffered the same fate. The mills have been rebuilt and are now in operation, at the same place where the former stood. The grandson of Gen. Schuyler now lives in a house erected on the site of the former dwelling of his father—a covered bridge across the creek adjoining the mills.
I cannot, in this place, omit some short notices of Gen. P. Schuyler. It seems he was commander-in-chief of the northern army until the latter part of August, 1777, at which time he was superseded by Gen. Gates.
I remember at that time there was some excitement in the public mind, and much dissatisfaction expressed on account of that measure; and with my limited means of knowledge, I have never been able to learn what good reason induced his removal. Few men in our country at that time ranked higher than Gen. Schuyler in all the essential qualities of the patriot, the gentleman, the soldier, and scholar. True to the cause of liberty, he made sacrifices which few were either able or willing to bear. The nobility of soul he possessed, distinguished him from ordinary men, and pointed him out as one deserving of public confidence.
At the surrender of the royal army, he generously invited Gen. Burgoyne, his suite, and several of the principal officers, with their ladies, to his house at Albany; where, at his own expense, he fed and lodged them for two or three weeks with the kindest hospitality.
This is the man, who, a few days before, had suffered immense loss in his mills and other buildings at Fish creek, burned by order of the same Burgoyne who had now become his guest.
Respecting Gen. Gates, I will only say, finis coronet opus.
Oct. 18th.—At 7 A. M. started on foot to view some other and equally interesting places connected with the campaign of 1777. Three miles and a half south of Fish creek, called at the house of a Mr. Smith, in which Gen. Fraser died of wounds received in the battle of the 7th October, and near which house, in one of the British redoubts, that officer was buried. This house then stood by the road on the west margin of the intervale, at the foot of the rising ground. A turnpike road having since been constructed, running twenty or thirty rods east of the old road, the latter has been discontinued, and Mr. Smith has drawn the house and placed it on the west side of the turnpike.
Waiving, for the present, any farther notices of this spot, I shall attempt a concise narrative of the two hostile armies for a short period anterior to the great battle of the 7th of October.
The object of the British General was to penetrate as far as Albany, at which place, by concert, he was to meet Sir Henry Clinton, then with a fleet and army lying at New-York. In the early part of September, Gen. Burgoyne had advanced with his army from Fort Edward, and crossed the Hudson with his artillery, baggage wagons, &c., on a bridge of boats, and intrenched the troops on the highlands in Saratoga. On the 19th of September they left their intrenchments, and moved south by a slow and cautious march toward the American camp, which was secured by a line of intrenchments and redoubts on Behmus's heights, running from west to east about half a mile in length, terminating at the east end on the west side of the intervale.
Upon the approach of the royal army, the American forces sallied forth from their camp, and met the British about a mile north of the American lines. A severe conflict ensued, and many brave officers and men fell on both sides. The ground on which this battle was fought was principally covered with standing wood. This circumstance somewhat embarrassed the British troops in the use of their field artillery, and afforded some advantage to the Americans, particularly the riflemen under the command of the brave Col. Morgan, who did great execution. Night, which has so often and so kindly interposed to stop the carnage of conflicting hosts, put an end to the battle. Neither party claimed a victory. The royal army withdrew in the night, leaving the field and their slain, with some of their wounded, in possession of the Americans. The loss of killed and wounded, as near as could be ascertained, was, on the part of the British, 600; and on that of the Americans, about 350. The bravery and firmness of the American forces displayed this day, convinced the British officers of the difficulty, if not utter impossibility of continuing their march to Albany. The season for closing the campaign in that northern region was advancing—the American army was daily augmenting by militia, volunteers, and the "two months men," as they were then called. The fear that the two royal armies might effect their junction at Albany, aroused the neighboring states of New England, and drew from New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Connecticut, and Vermont, a large body of determined soldiers. Baum's defeat at Bennington had inspired them with new hopes and invigorated their spirits.