[KG_SSpoom]

Following his argument with Gates, Arnold drafted a long letter to his superior. The grievances he detailed included the poor treatment he had received since Gates arrived and the lack of credit extended to his division following the First Battle of Saratoga. "I am thought of in no consequence in this department," he complained. Arnold asked for a pass to leave camp, and Gates sent it over the next day, but Arnold hesitated, desperately wanting to participate in the coming fight. Gates requested that Arnold dismiss Livingston. He refused, but Arnold's loyal aide left on his own accord. Gates then issued general orders thanking Arnold's division for its gallant service in the battle but again did not mention its commander. Meanwhile, Brigadier General Enoch Poor circulated a petition asking Arnold to remain, and every line officer, except the newly arrived Lincoln, signed it.

Arnold agreed to stay, but he had become essentially a man without a job. For the moment he quenched his restlessness by irritating Gates with a series of notes filled with military advice. Gates ignored him, and on October 1 Gates assumed command of the left wing and handed Lincoln the right.

While intrigue enveloped the American camp, Burgoyne's deteriorating army had not moved. Nearly a year earlier, "Gentleman Johnny"--a nickname Burgoyne's men had given to him as a tribute to the humane way he treated them--had bet a friend that he would "be home victorious from America by Christmas Day, 1777." In June of that year, Burgoyne had led his army south from Canada down the Champlain-Hudson corridor with a grand plan for dividing New England from the other colonies. He expected to link up with General William Howe's army at Albany, and their combined force would move south to crush Washington's main Continental Army. Howe instead sailed south to capture Philadelphia, leaving Burgoyne to fend for himself.

Burgoyne captured Fort Ticonderoga on July 6, 1777, but after that his plan began to unravel. On August 16, General John Stark's New Hampshire militia smashed a 1,200-man column of German and British soldiers sent into nearby Bennington, Vermont, in search of horses. A week later Arnold led an American force that scattered Lieutenant Colonel Barry St. Leger's 2,000-man column as it approached from the west.

Now, Burgoyne was considering a follow-up attack for the morning of August 21 when he received a note from Lieutenant General Sir Henry Clinton in New York City. Clinton was about to march north with 2,000 men to menace the Americans at Forts Montgomery and Clinton. The possibility that Gates would be forced to dispatch troops to the forts or--even better--that Clinton would come to his support convinced Burgoyne to dig in and wait. In fact, he really had nowhere else to go. Retreat north was not only distasteful, it was no longer a practical option. His army's rations would last, at best, another two to three weeks. And, although British forces controlled Fort Ticonderoga 60 miles to the north, American soldiers freely roamed the area north of Saratoga. Burgoyne decided his only real choice was to persevere--to drive through Gates's army and on to Albany.

On October 7, as the last wisps of morning fog disappeared under the rising sun, 1,500 British and German troops, backed by another 500 Loyalists, Indians, and Canadians, moved out from the main British camp. Burgoyne personally led the three columns, which he had placed under Fraser on the right, Riedesel in the center, and Major John Dyke Acland on the left. By about 2:00 p.m. the force had reached a wheat field just west of Freeman's Farm. The long lines of red and blue-coated soldiers sat quietly as Burgoyne, Riedesel, and Major General William Phillips (Burgoyne's long-time artillery chief) climbed to the roof of a cabin for a better look at the American position. They were disheartened--Burgoyne's spyglass revealed only a depthless sea of trees.

The British columns were exposed and their opponents knew it. American pickets had been watching the advance every step of the way and reporting back to Gates. After some urging, Gates sent Wilkinson off to the left with the message, "Order on Morgan to begin the game."

With battle about to begin anew, Benedict Arnold itched to join in. Swallowing his pride, he asked Gates for permission to ride to the front to see what was happening. "I am afraid to trust you, Arnold," Gates warily replied. On September 19, against Gates's wishes, Arnold had brought on a general engagement and added to his reputation in the process. Gates did not want an encore. But when Arnold promised not to do anything hasty, Gates sent him out--with Lincoln alongside as a precaution.

The two generals returned a short time later with the news that the enemy was moving strongly on the left. Gates said he would send Morgan's riflemen and Dearborn's infantry west, to flank the enemy. Arnold knew the situation demanded more vigor, and his reply betrayed his disgust. "That is nothing, " he declared, "you must send a strong force."

Determined not to go down that road again, Gates fumed, "General Arnold, I have nothing for you to do. You have no business here."

With Arnold apparently out of the picture, Lincoln finally convinced Gates that more men were indeed needed. Poor's brigade would storm the British left while Morgan flanked Burgoyne. When these two pincers squeezed the trapped enemy, Learned's brigade would be sent in to overrun the center.

Morgan's 300 riflemen quickly closed in on Fraser's position while Poor's 800 veteran New Hampshire Continentals crept through the woods toward the British left. Just after 3:00 p.m., Acland's men opened fire from the crest of a hill on Poor's approaching troops. The British were about to mount a bayonet charge when the Americans raced up the hill in a frenzy, swarming over the stunned grenadiers and wounding Acland in both legs. With exquisite timing, Morgan's men smashed through the outnumbered infantry of Major Alexander Lindsay, Earl of Balcarres, on Fraser's far right. Then Dearborn's light infantry suddenly appeared behind the wavering British, scattering them in all directions.