The Pictorial Field-Book of the Revolution, Vol. 1 (of 2): or, Illustrations, by Pen And Pencil, of the History, Biography, Scenery, Relics, and Traditions of the War for IndependenceLossing, Benson John
History
The Pictorial Field-Book of the Revolution, Vol. 1 (of 2): or, Illustrations, by Pen And Pencil, of the History, Biography, Scenery, Relics, and Traditions of the War for Independence
Lossing, Benson John
United States -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783
"I could not go to sleep, as I had General Fraser and all the other
wounded gentlemen in my room, and I was sadly afraid my children would
wake, and, by their crying, disturb the dying man in his last moments,
who often addressed me and apologized '_for the trouble he gave me_.'
About three o'clock in the morning I was told that he could not hold out
much longer; I had desired to be informed of the near approach of this
sad crisis, and I then wrapped up my children in their clothes, and went
with them into the room below About eight o'clock in the morning _he
died_.
"After he was laid out, and his corpse wrapped up in a sheet, we came
again into the room, and had this sorrowful sight before us the whole
day; and, to add to the melancholy scene, almost every moment some
officer of my acquaintance was brought in wounded. The cannonade
commenced again; a retreat was spoken of, but not the smallest motion
was made toward it. About four o'clock in the afternoon I saw the house
which had just been built for me in flames, and the enemy was now not
far off. We knew that General Burgoyne would not refuse the last request
of General Fraser, though, by his acceding to it, an unnecessary delay
was occasioned, by which the inconvenience of the army was much
increased. At six o'clock the corpse was brought out, and we saw all the
generals attend it to the mountain. The chaplain, Mr. Brudenell,
performed the funeral service, rendered
Burial of Fraser.--Humanity of the Americans.--Lady Harriet Ackland.
066
unusually solemn and awful from its being accompanied by constant peals
from the enemy's artillery. Many cannon-balls flew close by me, but I
had my eyes directed toward the mountain * where my husband was standing
amid the fire of the enemy, and of course I could not think of my own
danger."
It was just at sunset, on that calm October evening, that the corpse of
General Fraser was carried up the hill to the place of burial within the
"great redoubt." It was attended only by the members of his military
family and Mr. Brudenell, the chaplain; yet the eyes of hundreds of both
armies followed the solemn procession, while the Americans, ignorant of
its true character, kept up a constant cannonade upon the redoubt. The
chaplain, unawed by the danger to which he was exposed, as the
cannonballs that struck the hill threw the loose soil over him,
pronounced the impressive funeral service of the Church of England with
an unfaltering voice. *** The growing darkness added solemnity to the
scene.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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