Saturday, September 21, 2013

Historical Fiction Novel Preview of "The War Comes to Redding" by Brent M. Colley


Chapter Seven- The Campaign of Starving and Freezing

Up until about December 22nd the weather couldn't seem to make up its mind, we'd have rain, then snow, then more rain, some sleet, and then rain yet again; the roads were a mess. The corduroy road my Father and the other men had created in front of Colonel Read's this past November had become a popular travel route for the teamsters who used it quite often now. 

I remember the 22nd because of all that happened that day. It started off simple enough- On my way back home from school I found a teamster at the corner of Limekiln and Lonetown trying to decide on the best way to go. He was trying to find his way from Lonetown over to the third camp near the Danbury line.

"Hello Mister. You look lost. Can I help?" I asked him.

"Why that surely would be kind of ya," he said in a funny drawl. "I need to get to third camp before this storm gets any worse."

"Then you want to use this road here," I said pointing down Limekiln. "follow it to the Limekilns, you can't miss ‘em and their billows of smoke. From there you’ll cross four fields, and come to a beaver pond. Stay to the south side of the pond and turn Northwest when you reach the next clearing, ahead you will see a stonewall, just beyond it is the pathway that leads straight into third camp."

"Why thank ya son, I do appreciate it." He said with a smile before spurring his horses and heading off through the storm.

The snow was really coming down now, it was up past my ankles and with the winds picking up I knew it wouldn't be long before walking would become difficult, so I cut across the road and into the pines by the swamp. That's where I saw them, there were three of them and they had someone's calf. There were drag marks across the clearing so I figured it was dead, but still it made my heart hurt to see them butchering it; I ran home as fast as I could.

"What's wrong?" asked my Father as I burst through the barn door.

"Soldiers!" I said. "They stole somebody's calf and they're butchering it in the pines!"

My Father slammed the hay rake he was using down to the ground and cursed. "That's the third calf this week!" He grabbed his gun and headed over to the horse stall. "Tell your Mother I'm riding over to Sanford's. And tell her not to worry, we're going to handle this correctly, without any bloodshed."

Mom was worried anyway. Philip and David weren't, they were itching to see what was going to happen to those soldiers.

"What was Dad working on when he left?"  Philip asked.

"He was filling the hay feeders." I said.

"We better get on that." said David to Philip with a wink.

I knew what they were up to, they were heading out to the pines to watch.

"Just stay out of harms way..." Mom blurted as they left, she knew too.

From that moment forward it was a long night for the rest of us. We all sat by the fire, not saying much, just waiting for them to return. Baby Will fell asleep on Phineas’ belly while Mom, Abby and me de-shelled acorns, it was methodical work perfect for the occasion.

Outside we could hear the wind howling.

"I sure hope Phil and Dave took the horses," I thought out loud. "the drifts were ankle high on my way home. They must be waist high by now."

"Good point. You’d better get out there and shovel a path for the morning." said Mom. 

"Really?" I said, hoping she was kidding.

"Really," she said. “"we’ll need a path out to the barn in the morning." Raising an eyebrow to show me she was serious.

"Ugh. Me and my big mouth." I thought over and over again as I shoveled my way out to the barn.

When I got out there I found that they did take the horses. Father took Winfred our quarter horse and Phil and Dave took the work horses, their stalls were empty too.

I told Mom when I got back.

"Good," she said. "let’s get to bed. They may not be back for hours."

She was right, it was well after midnight when they actually got home and we were all fast asleep. We heard all about it at breakfast that morning.

"You should have seen their faces..." David was ecstatic despite his lack of sleep. 

"They had no idea they were surrounded. They had no idea we were even there, they were so focused on the meat they were cooking that they didn't even see us. While they sat there huddled by the fire, the circle closed slowly around them, tighter and tighter, they never heard us, the winds were too loud, and then, BOOM! we all pounced. It was over in seconds; they were subdued and taken to the guard house at Dearborn's camp."

"What's going to happen to them?" asked Abby.

"That's up to General Putnam," said Father. "But I hope he makes an example of them."

"What happens next? asked Philip.

Father’s face twisted, in a thoughtful way. His right hand landed on his right thigh, his left index finger on his upper lip and his thumb under his chin. 

"I really don’t know how this one will play out. The soldiers will be Court-martialed, that’s how they handle these situations. But, this one will be interesting because it involves more than just the Army. Loss of livestock and looting has been prevalent since the troops arrived in Redding and this is the perfect opportunity to put an end to it." 

"Will they be put to death?" asked Mother visibly concerned.

"I don't think Putnam will do that," said Father. "I expect a public lashing, but, as I said, I really don’t know how this one will play out. Putnam may have to put someone to death to put an end to this."

*more soon*


Why I'm writing this novel:

The purpose of my novel is to bring attention to more Revolutionary War topics than simply battles and timelines with the hope that it will fuel future study of these topics in local schools and help students become more aware of the history that surrounds them and push them to explore interests of their own.

In this novel I pick up where My Brother Sam is Dead left off and tell you the story of what it was like to live in Redding in the Winter of 1778-79. Your narrator is Jonas Fairchild. Jonas is 13 years old and lives within walking distance to the middle encampment. His friend and mentor is a Native American Indian named Tom Warrups. Tom is in his 30's and lives just up the hill from Jonas and his family. Through Tom, Jonas learns about Indian culture and their way of life.

Jonas' father owns and operates two saw mills in town with his brothers. When the army decides on Redding for its winter encampment, the Fairchild family agrees to help the soldiers more efficiently cut their hut lumber by showing them how to make saw pits at each encampment. Little do they know they will be helping the soldiers in many more ways than this as the story unfolds.

More will be shared as I edit my chapters so stay tuned for updates about this very insightful first person narrative of what happened when 3,000+ soldiers and their camp followers arrived to co-exist amongst the Redding residents in the winter of 1779.

Friday, September 6, 2013

The War Comes to Redding- A Historical Fiction Novel

Background- Jonas Fairchild is a 13 year old boy living in Redding, Connecticut. It is September 16, 1778.

Chapter One -They're Back-

"They're back! They're back!!" Stephen had been running and he could barely catch his breath.

"Sit down" I said, "Here…  sit here." I got up off the log I was sitting on and guided him down to it.

I let him rest a moment then I asked: "Who's back?"

"Soldiers!" he blurted.

"The British?"

Stephen shook his head and took a deep breath. "No! American soldiers, the same ones we saw this summer; they were over by Colonel  Read's near the old wood lot. And this time they had surveyors with them. Why do you think they had surveyors Jonas?"

I handed him my fishing string to give myself a moment to think about it.

"I don't know for sure, but from what I overheard Isaac Platt talking about at church last Sunday, the troops may be coming to Redding for the Winter."

"Isaac and his brother are soldiers in a Massachusetts Regiment, and he said they were heading up to Quaker's Ridge in Pawling, New York later this week to meet up with the rest of General Washington's troops to train and plan out their strategy for the winter. He said there was a good chance he'd be back in Redding late in November if the General got his way."

Stephen looked puzzled: "Redding? You think they're coming here?

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This is how my novel begins. 

In this novel I pick up where My Brother Sam is Dead left off and tell you the story of what it was like to live in Redding in the Winter of 1778-79. Your narrator is Jonas Fairchild. Jonas is 13 years old and lives within walking distance to the middle encampment. His friend and mentor is a Native American Indian named Tom Warrups. Tom is in his 30's and lives just up the hill from Jonas and his family. Through Tom, Jonas learns about Indian culture and their way of life.

Jonas' father owns and operates two saw mills in town with his brothers. When the army decides on Redding for its winter encampment, the Fairchild family agrees to help the soldiers more efficiently cut their hut lumber by showing them how to make saw pits at each encampment. Little do they know they will be helping the soldiers in many more ways than this as the story unfolds.

More will be shared as I edit my chapters so stay tuned for updates about this very insightful first person narrative of what happened when 3,000+ soldiers and their camp followers arrived to co-exist amongst the Redding residents in the winter of 1779.