The clouds of a drenching storm had passed away, and a serene morning of surpassing loveliness dawned upon the landscape, when five hundred British and Hessian regulars met, face to face, seven hundred American farmers, many of whom had rushed from their firesides, seizing their ordinary firelocks without bayonets. The battle was fought, on both sides, with equal desperation. Baum had artillery well posted. Stark had none. The Americans made the assault in front, flank, and rear. The British with stolid bravery stood to their guns in resistance. After a battle of two hours, during which the roar of the conflict resembled an incessant clap of thunder, the foe was utterly routed. Many were killed, more wounded, and more taken prisoners. Just then a strong, well-armed reinforcement came to the aid of the British, when the Americans, disorganized by victory were, in broken ranks, plundering the British camp. In vain Stark endeavored to rally them. An awful defeat threatened to follow their signal victory, when, very opportunely, Colonel Seth Warner arrived with fresh American troops from Bennington. It was four o’clock in the afternoon. Another battle was fought with renewed ferocity. Again the American farmers put the British regulars to flight. Night alone enabled the fugitives to escape. It was a grand victory, both in its immediate achievements and its remote results. Four brass field-pieces, a thousand stands of arms, and four wagons of ammunition fell into the hands of the Americans. They also captured thirty-two officers, and five hundred and sixty-four privates. The number of the British who were slain is not known. The battle spread far and wide through the forest, and there was probably many an awful tragedy as poor wounded soldiers, in those gloomy depths, slowly perished of starvation and misery. The Americans lost one hundred in killed and wounded. Language can hardly describe the exultation with which the American farmers learned that they could meet the British regulars, in the open field, and at disadvantage, and yet beat them. From all quarters, the young men seized their guns and rushed to the American camp. They surrounded Burgoyne. They cut off his supplies. They drove back his foraging parties. Burgoyne became alarmed. He was far removed from any reinforcements. He soon awoke to the terrible apprehension, that he might be reduced to the humiliation of surrendering his whole army to farmers’ boys, whose soldierly qualities he had affected so thoroughly to despise. Washington was at Wilmington, near Philadelphia, when he heard the tidings of this great victory. He was watching the British fleet which, conveying an army of nearly twenty thousand men, was evidently directing its course toward Philadelphia. He wrote to General Putnam: