“This is an event which we have reason to wish had not happened, and which will be attended with several ill consequences. But I hope it will not be so detrimental as many apprehend; and that a little time and perseverance will give us some favorable opportunity of recovering our loss, and of putting our affairs in a more flourishing condition.” In the meantime, prosperity was smiling upon the American cause. A noble spirit of patriotism imbued the hearts of the people. Burgoyne complained bitterly that the farmers were all rebels; that at an hour’s warning they would abandon their plows by thousands, take their own subsistence with them, and, having achieved any enterprise for which they were called forth, would return to their farms. Several fierce battles were fought, in none of which did Burgoyne gain any advantage, and in all of which his plans were thwarted. The Americans were rapidly encircling his army in folds from which escape would be difficult, if not impossible. Famine began to threaten him. He tried to retreat, but the Americans hedged up his way, and fought with bravery which the British regulars had never seen excelled. Washington sent a band of Morgan’s riflemen to their aid. The scene of conflict was over hills and dales, covered with a dense forest. In this warfare Morgan’s men were far superior to the trained soldiers of England and Germany. Their well-aimed bullets produced fearful havoc. The shrewd Indians saw that the tides of war were turning against them. They never loved the English. Without any leave-taking, they disappeared, carrying with them all the plunder they could seize. The Canadians deserted by hundreds.[160] Burgoyne struggled with the energies of desperation. But all his efforts to escape were in vain. The impetuosity with which the Americans rushed upon the cannon of the foe, in the face of murderous discharges of grape-shot, excited the astonishment of both the British and Hessian officers. Many heroic and pathetic scenes occurred which we have not space here to record. After a bloody battle and a disastrous defeat, Burgoyne made another attempt to escape from his terrible foe. The night was dark even to blackness. The rain fell in torrents. The gale, chill and piercing, penetrated the clothing of the shivering soldiers, and moaned its saddest requiems through the gloom of the forest. On the 9th, they reached Saratoga. A detachment of Americans had preceded them, and were throwing up intrenchments. Burgoyne set fire to farm-houses, mansions, granaries, mills. He himself estimated the value of the property destroyed at fifty thousand dollars. He excused himself for the act on the plea of self-preservation. But generally, friend and foe alike condemned the cruel deed.