4 October, 1777
14 and a half kilometres south of Saratoga
New York Colony
"My lord, we do not have sufficient strength to breach the rebel lines. We need to fall back, and strike when we are stronger and the rebels more vulnerable."
General John Burgoyne massaged his temple while he considered General Riedesel's statement. It wasn't without merit. Though he had won several victories so far, each had left him with fewer men, and the desertions weren't helping. Though he held Freeman's Farm, the battle cost him over a thousand men, and he now had just over four thousand ready for battle, with another fifteen hundred sick and wounded. The rebels now had two battle ready soldiers to each of his, and the force sent to reconnoiter the rebel flank reported the terrain to be against his troops. He sighed deeply, exasperated by the situation. Loathe as he was to admit it, General Riedesel was correct. There would be no victory on this field. After several minutes of contemplation, he decided upon a course of action.
"Prepare the troops to withdraw to Saratoga. We'll hold it as best we can, or fall back to Fort Miller if we can't. Hopefully, Clinton's men will show up soon so we get back onto the attack. We'll start the withdrawal with the German Regiments in the vanguard, then the artillery, followed by the rest. 24th foot and our light troops will take the rear guard."
With that, he excused his officers to carry out their commands, and prepared to oversee the march. Hopefully this campaign would start to turn around soon. He didn't want to think of the outcome if it didn't.