More from my upcoming book- The War Comes to Redding

Chapter Five- The Troops Arrive in Redding

It was late November now, the weather was much colder and I was spending a lot more time foraging for wood than I was foraging for food. I was stacking piles of firewood and kindling near the beaver pond when Tom came racing up the hillside.

"What is it Tom?" I shouted.

"They're here!" he shouted back excitedly.

"The troops?"

"Yes!!"

Tom's excitement was unusual. I dropped what I was doing and headed over to him. 

"What's so exciting Tom?" I asked.

"My people are here Jonas. My people are here in Redding."

"Native Indian soldiers?"

"Yes!" Tom was beaming with pride.

"A lot of them?"

"No, no, just a couple, but I didn't expect them to be here, I thought they all went home." Tom explained.

"Mr. Heron told us there would be black soldiers with General Parsons, are they here too?" I asked

"Yes. They are here too, in good numbers. I counted at least 25 as they marched in and troops are still arriving."

"Which camp are they setting up first?" I asked

"The middle camp, just three hills over, by the Whortleberry bushes." Tom answered.

"Wow, this is real," I thought "just down the road from our house there is going to be a soldier's camp."

"Will you show me Tom?" I asked, knowing that he would.

"If you can keep up." He said turning to race back down the hill.

"Hey! No fair!" I shouted as I sprinted after him.

Tom just laughed and kept right on running.

I caught him on the backside of the second hill and we both slowed to a trot that got slower and slower as we got closer to the crest of the third hill. From that crest you could see everything.

The encampment was well hidden; no one that didn't know about it would suspect it. It was tucked into a hillside on a roadway seldom used, but it had access to a water source, was well wooded and allowed for troop movement if needed.

The troops had just arrived so they had not started on the huts yet but it was clear that these troops were well organized. We could see a good number of tents that had already been erected and it looked like either a bridge or a dam was being built along the ridge on the west end of the encampment.

"Do you see the rock outcropping on that hill over there?" Tom asked me, pointing northwest of where we were standing.

"Mmmm Hmmm." I answered.

"That's where the Native American Indian soldiers will be stationed."

"Anyone you know?" I asked him.

"I think so," he said "the soldier I spoke to earlier said that several Kent Indians had attended The Great Barbecue up on Quaker Ridge this Fall and he believed they were still enlisted." 

"And you think you know them?" I wanted to know if Tom really knew these Indians from Kent or if he was just saying he did because he visited Kent from time-to-time.

"Yes!" was his definitive answer.

"Jonas," Tom became very somber "I am going to tell you something that I would rather not have you repeat to anyone... at least not anytime soon."

I quickly agreed to keep the secret.

"My people are very divided about this War Jonas. Many of my people worry, just as some of your people worry about this War." he said.

"What are they worried about?" I asked.

"My people are fearful of what your Independence means for us. Will it be to our benefit or demise? We don't really know. What we do know is that since the white man has arrived in what you call "America," our ancient home lands have been taken and we have been pushed out. For those of us that fight for the Independence of your people we hope this War brings what your Declaration of Independence promises *and* restores for us the rights that we have lost. Do you know what I speak of Jonas?"

"Yes." I said, we memorized the Declaration last year at the schoolhouse.

"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness -- that to secure these Rights, Governments are instituted among men, deriving their just Powers from the Consent of the Governed, that whenever Any Form of Government becomes destructive of these Ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute a new Government."

"That is right," said Tom "and I pray that it is known that the Native American Indian soldiers here in Redding are not 'merciless Indian savages' and recognized that they too are men in pursuit of Life, Liberty and Happiness; fighting for their own unalienable rights."

"Amen." I said and we both enjoyed that moment.

Looking back to the camp we could see and hear trees coming down just south of the rock outcropping.

"They work fast." I said to Tom.

"They must work faster," Tom replied "there will be snow tomorrow morning."

"How do you know that?" I asked wonderously.

A playful grin grew across his face and he said: "The wind told me."

"The wind? Yeah right. You're pulling my leg again Tom." I said waving my arm at him dismissively.

Tom just kept on smiling and told me I'd owe him a basket full of eggs should it happen.


Chapter Six- The Campaign of Starving and Freezing Begins

Tom was right. It snowed about 6 inches the next day and two days later it rained so hard that a majority of that snow melted into a muddy slush preventing the teamsters from bringing food and supplies to Redding.

"The soldiers are starving," Abby said at breakfast "isn't there any way we can help them?"

"We have." Said Father. "We have provided them with an efficient means to cut their wood at all three of their encampments."

"But they haven't any food." Pleaded Abby.

"That is not our concern," Father said sternly. "they have the supplies in Danbury and it is the Army's job to get them here. If we give away our stored food to starving soldiers and our supplies run out, then we will be the ones starving."

Abby nodded silently, she knew he was right. I did too but it got me to thinking and after lunch I headed up the hill to Tom's lean-to. Tom wasn't there but he had hung a fishing spear above the door so I knew exactly where he was and headed off in that direction. Along the way I passed Stephen's house and stopped in to see if he wanted to come with me. He was working in the root cellar.

"Stephen, Stephen, you down there?" I called.

"Yep. Come on down." he answered.

"Are you taking them out or putting them in?" I asked.

"A little of both." he said 

When I got down there I saw what he meant. He had all the vegetables sorted and readied to load back into the boxes.

"Are you making sand boxes?" I asked.

"Yep and I'm almost done. Where are you going?" he replied.

"I'm trying to find Tom, I think he's down at Umpawaug fishing." I told him.

"Is someone looking for him?" Stephen asked.

"No," I said "I want to talk to him about the soldiers situation."

"Oh, okay." he said "Help me finish up here and I'll come with you."

Sand boxes are how we store root vegetables for the winter, it keeps them fresh for months. 

The process is pretty simple, you work in layers starting with some moist sand at the bottom of the box, then you work your way up, lining each layer with vegetables and covering them with dry sand as you go. On the top layer you add some more moist sand and you're finished. Stephen had the carrots, and I took on the beets and turnips.

We made quick work of it and wove our way over to Umpawaug through Chestnut Woods.

{Background- Umpawaug is one of my favorites sections of town, it's swamps, ponds and rivers are always filled with fish. Tom says that when european settlers came to Redding the Indians made sure they would retain access to these places because the fish they caught here was so essential to their livelihoods.}

Tom was right where I thought he would be, on the west end of the pond. That area always freezes last and Tom likes to take advantage of it by placing his fishing weirs there. It's where the pond drains into a swampy stream that fish are drawn to and the way Tom narrows down the space with his weirs allows him to spear the fish that get caught up attempting to get through it. Looking at the size of the fish pile behind him, Tom wasn't fishing just for himself. 

"That's quite a take Tom." Stephen said admiring the pile.

Tom just nodded, he was in the process of driving another fish towards his weir. His focus was completely on the fish, slowly and meticulously he followed it until the fish had no where else go and then, BAM! He speared and tossed it on top of the pile.

"Why so many fish Tom?" I asked.

Tom never took more fish than he needed.

"The soldiers are hungry." He said matter-of-factly. "Will you and Stephen bring them to middle camp for me?" He asked.

We agreed to and began loading them into one of the sleds Tom had brought for that purpose.

"I am going to check the weirs over in Simpaug," Tom said grabbing his second sled. "If you see someone who can help me over there on your way to the encampment send them. I will be where the pond empties into the North Walk River."

We agreed to and began loading them into one of the sleds Tom had brought for that purpose. It was about 4 miles over mostly flat land until we got to Stetzell's Farm but from there it got steep.

Stephen said, "I think we'd better rest and think about this, pulling these fish up that hill isn't going to be easy."

As we were sitting down he asked-

"What were you going to ask Tom about?"

"I was going to ask him how we could help the soldiers" I answered.

Stephen smiled. "I guess he already had the answer."

"He always does, especially when it comes to helping others." I said.

"Why does he help people anyway? No one here in town seems to help him when he needs it." Stephen asked.

"That's not how he thinks." I replied.

"How does he think?" said Stephen.

"It's tough to explain. Tom says 'With all things and in all things, we are relatives.' which I take to mean that he sees everything as connected and he does not wish to break that chain with his own actions."

"It sounds like a good policy to me." Stephen said.

"It is." I agreed.

"Now, how are we going to make it up that hill?

"How 'bout I take the back and you take the front?" I said.

"And half way up we switch?" Said Stephen.

"Deal." I said.

It took us a lot longer than we expected but we made it to the top of the hill and veered off through the woods towards the encampment, taking advantage of the snow that still existed. As we neared the camp we were met by a sentry who stopped us.

"Halt." he said "Are you here on offical business?"

"No." I said. "We have food for the soldiers."

"Who sent you?" He demanded.

"Tom." we answered in unison.

The soldier furrowed his brow, turned and made a whistle call back to the encampment. Within minutes three soldiers appeared, one of them was clearly a native Indian.

Ignoring the others, I asked him directly: "Do you know Tom Warrups?"

He did; a broad smile crept across his face. "I do!" he said. "Where is he?"

"He's fishing," I said. "for you and all the others at this encampment. These fish are all for you and there are more. He asked us to bring these to your encampment and see if we could find help to get what he has caught down at the North Walk River up here as well."

The sentry made a second whistle call, this one a different tone and several more soldiers quickly appeared. The sentry explained the situation to them and within minutes they were headed over to Simpaug.

It was the first real meal the soldiers had had in three days. One of the soldiers told us it was getting so bad that they were gnawing on shoe leather flavored with pine sap.

Many soldiers came to thank us as we pulled the empty sled out of the encampment and made our way back home, it felt good to help out.

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What’s in the My Brother Sam is Dead Dropbox Folder?

Everything I have collected and written over that past 6 years and that's a whole lot. The idea behind this folder is to help parents and teachers better understand what topics the authors have woven into each chapter of the fictional history novel, My Brother Sam is Dead.

I have broken out this resource into three sections:

1). Guide to MBSD(2 e-books and 8 supporting documents),

2). Maps, Photos and Visuals and

3). Teaching Resources(includes lesson plans and online quizzes).

All my ebooks are included at this resource and much more. Photos and maps of everything that occurs in the novel and teaching tools are included as well.

This is everything you need and more to get your kids really excited about the novel and come away with a very good understanding of why the novel was written.

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Preview of my historical fiction novel about the Revolutionary War Encampments at Redding CT

This is a preview of a historical fiction novel I have been working on for several months. As many of you already know, I highly respect what  My Brother Sam is Dead has to offer its readers through the stories Tim Meeker tells us. The topics and situations the authors wove into the story help us to better understand what people were experiencing and feeling in that time period when we look a little deeper into the content. 

My only disappointment with My Brother Sam is Dead is that it ended; I wanted to know more. In the quest to know more I fell in love with a topic that I honestly had no interest in prior to reading My Brother Sam is Dead- The Revolutionary War. This new passion led not only to research but relationships with experts on this topic that boosted my interest levels even higher and inspired me to share my knowledge of these topics with others as well.

This novel is my attempt to 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. Throughout this novel I will be weaving in my knowledge (as the Collier's did) of this time period and the situations and issues individuals were dealing with within the content. 

Okay, enough talk...

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. 

This preview highlights their special relationship...

Chapter Three- The Day I Learned of Skunny Wundy

Mushrooms prefer warm, damp conditions and have a remarkably short life span. Many form, grow and die off completely in a matter of hours. So after a rainy evening, you have to head into the woods as quickly as possible in the morning; especially this time of year. I was up and out the door with my forage pouch well before dawn, my dog Phineas came too. Just over the ridge from our house is a swamp bordered by evergreens that produces the most delicious tasting mushrooms that we call  "breakfast mushrooms" because they go so well with eggs. 

Today was a big day for my Father, he was meeting with some Sapers and Miners from Washington's Army at the mill so I foraged quickly while Phin hunted frogs. There were so many mushrooms that I had my fill in no time and we were back at the house just as everyone else was getting up. I dropped my pouch off in the kitchen for my mother and headed out to the hen house for eggs.

By the time I was to the garden I could hear them, there was trouble- they were squawking, all of them, and it was loud. I dropped the basket and ran, ran as fast as I could. As I came tearing around the corner of the hen house we locked eyes. It was a Fox! and he had our Rooster "Roger" by the tail.

"Drop him!!" I yelled.

"Git!"

I reached for the Sickle hanging from the fence but before I could grab it Phineas came flying across the meadow full speed. Phin was in attack mode and that Fox didn't have a chance.

Phin blasted into the hen yard, teeth showing and his hackles sky high. 

The Fox jumped, turned tail running and never looked back.

"Oh, Roger. Poor Roger, are you okay?" I said sympathetically as I made my way over to him.

I wasn't sure if he was hurt, but he looked pretty rough. The Fox had left him with just one tail feather.

I continued to soothe and re-assure him as I looked him over and tell him how proud I was of him for protecting his chickens. He didn’t seem to have anything else physically wrong with him so I advised him to take it easy for awhile and I placed him on his perch.

I went back for my basket, gathered up some eggs and made my way back to the kitchen.

My mom was waiting for me at the door.

Before I could explain anything she ran me up and down.

"Where have you been Jonas? What was so important that's delayed you? You know your Father has a very important day today, don't you?"

I tried to explain- "Mom, Mom... I know, I know. I'm sorry, but Roger..."

But, before I could get another word out, she cut me short, grabbed my ear and ushered me to the table.

I sat down in a heap. Totally deflated. "No one ever listens to me" I thought to myself.

Then... "Ouuuuuuuuch!" a completely uncalled for poke to the ribs from Philip. "What was that for?"

"Making us all late." said Philip

"Yeah, what were you doing out there all that time?" David chimed in.

"What was I doing? What was I doing??"

"Yes. What were you doing out there Jonas?" It was Father and his tone was cold. 

I wasn't going to take any chance of getting cut off again, so I just said it.

"A Fox attacked Roger."

"What?!!"

"Is he alright?"

"Did we lose any Chickens?"

"He's not dead is he?"

"What did you do?"

The questions were coming from every direction until Father's sharp, clear whistle grabbed everyone's attention, the room fell quiet and I said:

"Roger's not hurt, he's in shock but he's not hurt."

"Did you kill the Fox? Asked Abby.

"No," I said "but I don't think he'll be back here. Phineas has likely chased him half-way to Ridgefield by now and my guess is once Phin let's up that Fox just might keep going and take up residence in New York."

Everybody laughed, including Mom who was just coming in with breakfast.

"Scrambled eggs and mushrooms, mmmmm." David was so happy he was bouncing up and down.

Scrambled eggs and mushrooms is his favorite dish and my Mom's recipe is amazing.

She sautes the mushrooms in butter until they soften, covers them with eggs, then waits for the mixture to stiffen, adds a sprinkle of herbs and spice and scrambles them until they're done. It's so good.

After breakfast we all got on to our chores. It was Saturday and there was a lot to do- I had to weed in the garden, go to the wood lot to gather acorns, then head over to the West mill to help my brothers clean out the saw pits. I brought my fishing line just in case there was some time afterward to try my luck in the mill pond.

Phin came back just as I was finishing up at the garden, I tried to entice him to come with me to the wood lot but he was too tired. I left him sprawled out behind the barn and headed out to the road. It was getting close to mid-day and increasingly warm, so I took off my hat, rolled up my sleeves and tried to stay in the shade as much as I could as I walked.

Fortunately, our wood lot isn't too far from our house and a small stream runs through the back. Upon arrival I quickly scouted for fresh acorns and then made my way over to the stream to cool off a little and sit down for a snack. The water felt good, it was cold and refreshing. Feeling much better, I sat down. But as I opened my bag, I heard a loud crack over my right shoulder. Then a branch snapped, then another and another. Someone was walking towards me. I dropped my bag, made myself small, skurried over to a rock with a dead tree leaning against it, hunkered down and listened.

But whatever it was was gone by that point. Branches were no longer cracking, and the forest was silent, eerily silent; there wasn't a sound. "That's strange." I thought. "Things don't just disappear."

No sooner had that thought crossed my mind when everything around me shook as something large came pouncing down behind me.

"HELLO SNACK!" Said a loud booming voice.

I nearly jumped out of my shoes. I was so scared I was frozen, I couldn't even scream.

But the fear only lasted a moment, I knew that laugh well. It was Tom Warrups and he got me good.

"That was NOT nice Tom!" I scolded when I finally caught my breath.

"That was a good one. Jonas very scared. Ha-Ha-Ha! Tom is much pleased with himself."

"How did you sneak up on me like that? And what's "Hello Snack!" all about? Is that an Indian saying or something? You really scared me Tom!"

Tom's laughter trailed off, he took out a cloth, and wiped off his brow. "Indians don't hunt with guns like the white man Jonas. Indians hunt with arrows and spears.

We have to get much closer to the animal to kill it. Our style of hunting requires stalking. With many, many years of practice you too can become a "ghost in the forest" Jonas. I have never told you of Skunny Wundy?"

"No." I said, "What's a Skunny Wundy?"

"'Skunny Wundy' is a boy in an old Indian legend." He said. "Are you here to collect Acorns for Acorn Bread?" He asked.

"Yes. Acorn Bread and Cookies." I answered.

"Will you share some with me?"

"Yes."

"Then I will tell you how Skunny Wundy and the Turtle out smarted the Stone Giant."

And Tom proceeded to tell me the Legend of Skunny Wundy:

Long ago, there lived a young boy named Skunny Wundy, his name meant "Cross The Creek." He wasn't particularly large and he wasn't particularly strong, but Skunny Wundy was very clever. The one particular talent that he possessed was skipping stones across the water. Skunny Wundy could make a stone skip more times across the river that cut through his village than anyone else in his tribe.

Now, the people of Skunny Wundy's village had always traveled along this river. But they only traveled South. Children were always cautioned to never go North, because to the North was the land of the Stone Giants, large fierce monsters who loved the taste of human flesh. Luckily, Stone Giants weren't very bright, so as long as they didn't see people, they usually forgot they existed. Which is why the people of Skunny Wundy's village always traveled South and never traveled North.

One day, Skunny Wundy was walking along the river skipping stones and paying no attention to the direction he was going. He walked and walked and walked until suddenly he was startled by a Crow. He stopped, looked around and realized that he was very far from his village and traveling North!

Just as he was about to turn and run home, a thunderous voice boomed down from above him:

"A PEO-PLE! MY FAVORITE SNACK!"

Skunny Wundy looked up, terrified, it was a Stone Giant! He was huge and he was mean and, as the name suggested, his skin looked as solid as granite. Skunny Wundy knew that if he tried to run, the Giant would surely catch him, so he took a deep breath and decided to reason with him:

"You don't want to eat me, I'm nothing more than a bite to you!"

Reasoning wasn't going to work...

"THAT'S OKAY, I HAVEN'T HAD A BITE ALL DAY!" said the Stone Giant, licking his lips.

Skunny Wundy knew his only chance was to outsmart the Giant.

"How about a contest?" he said hopefully. The Stone Giant looked interested, so Skunny Wundy pressed on.

"I challenge you to a stone skipping contest! We'll each skip a stone across the river and whoever gets theirs to skip the most times wins. If you win, you can...eat me. But if I win, you have to let me go free."

The Stone Giant thought about it for a moment, scooped up a boulder and said:

"OKAY, LET'S GO!!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Skunny Wundy said motioning with both hands for the Giant to hold up.

"That boulder may work fine for you. But there's not a stone here that I can even lift, let alone skip. How about I come back tomorrow with a stone more my size and then we'll have our contest?" said Skunny.

The Stone Giant looked down at him and thought and thought and thought. Skunny Wundy began to worry this trick might not work.

But, finally, the Giant agreed:

"SOUNDS GOOD!" he rumbled. "I SEE YOU TOMORROW!"

Skunny Wundy jumped up, clicked his heals, turned south and ran; laughing the whole way home.

But when he got home, he realized something- Yes, he had outsmarted the Giant, but he had also made a promise. He had promised the Stone Giant that he would return.

If he didn't show up for the contest tomorrow the Giant might come looking for him. What if the Giant decided to come looking for him, headed south down the river path, and in the process found his people's village and ate up all Skunny's friends and relatives? It would be tragic and it all would be his fault. Skunny Wundy knew that he couldn't do that to his people and decided that despite the personal risk he would return the next day and compete in the stone skipping contest he had agreed to.

At daybreak the next morning, Skunny Wundy set off towards the land of Giants, checking the ground for good stones the whole way. Unfortunately, there were none and when he finally reached the spot where the Giant was waiting for him, he knew the stone he had in hand wouldn't skip enough to beat a Giant's throw; it was too light to travel any great distance.

"WELCOME BACK, SNACK!" the Giant laughed as he picked up his boulder again.

Skunny Wundy watched dejectedly as the boulder skipped out across the water once, twice, three times...gaining speed as it went, by the time it splashed into the water for the final time, the Giant's stone had skipped fifteen times!

"HA!! AGH-HA-HA! BEAT THAT, SNACK!" the Giant roared pounding his chest.

Skunny Wundy knew his throw would be hard to beat.

"Skunny Wundy!" a soft voice suddenly whispered.

Skunny Wundy looked all around, but could not find the source of the voice. He heard it again: "Skunny Wundy, down here, down here! Pick me up and use me!"

Skunny Wundy looked down to see a tiny turtle at his feet. He picked the turtle up and again the turtle said: "You can you use me!" Then the animal tucked its head, feet and tail into its shell. And as simple as that, the turtle had become a perfect skipping stone.

Skunny Wundy smiled and whispered quietly to the turtle:

"My life is in your hands, little friend. But we can do this. Together we can do this, together we are one, we will beat this Giant."

Then he reared back his arm, took a deep breath and sent the shell skipping out across the water. Once, twice, three times it skipped, he thought with plenty of speed, but on the thirteenth skip, it turned sideways and it appeared that skip would be his last. But as the corner of the shell was about to crash into the water, suddenly the turtle kicked out his legs. The shell flattened and bounced off the water's surface, skipping again and again and again!

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" bellowed the Stone Giant, FURIOUS that he had lost.

He spun and slashed a large pine tree, shattering it like a twig.

Then he roared: "AGHHHHHHHHHH!" and Skunny was very frightened, the Giant could not seem to contain his rage.

But then the Giant stopped abruptly, looked down at Skunny and said:

"GO! LEAVE HERE THIS INSTANT! BEFORE I CHANGE MY MIND!"

Skunny Wundy wasn't taking any chances. He quickly blurted: "Thank You!!" and turned and ran as fast as he could until he reached his home.

Over the years, Skunny Wundy had many more encounters with the Stone Giants, but that is how he survived his first...with the help of the Turtle Clan.

When Tom was finished, I asked him if the story had any special meaning. He nodded and explained that his people had lived on these lands for tens of thousands of years and how they had done this had a lot to do with how they interacted with the Earth and all its creatures. Indians did not work the land, they worked with the land and sought harmony with its creatures. The Turtle in the story symbolizes the Earth. The Turtle helps Skunny Wundy which is symbolic of the Earth helping Man.  My people believe we are a part of the earth and it is a part of us, we are brothers working together. Skunny acknowledges this relationship when he says: "Together we are one."

"What does the Giant symbolize?" I asked.

"The Giant's ways are egotistical and wasteful, he gets his way using force. He takes from the land whatever he needs and when he has what he needs he moves on. The Earth is not his brother. That is why it was important that Skunny Wundy and the Turtle won the contest. It is a story used to teach our children that the Earth is our brother, and we must treat the Earth and its creatures with kindness."

I smiled, thanked him and told him if I had any luck at the mill pond later I'd bring him back some trout.

He left and I quickly collected as many green acorns as my pouch could hold. By now the sun was at full strength and I returned to the stream to cool off one last time before heading over the mill to help my brothers.

As I dipped my hat into the water, three painted turtles plunged from their log into the water- plip, plop, ploop.

"Well, I guess I can't count on you guys should any Stone Giants venture this way." I said with a laugh.

I picked up a stone, skipped it across the water and started on my way towards the mill.


Chapter Four- Preparing for the Winter Encampments-

I awoke to light rain on November 14th, it was Tuesday, I had school down in the Center mid-morning so I could have slept a bit more if I wanted but the fall forage had gotten me into the habit of getting up early; I was up and that was that. I sat with my tea cupped in one hand thumbing through my journal with the other, it had been just over two months since Stephen had seen the soldiers over at Read's old wood lot, and as I skimmed over my entries, I was amazed by how much had happened here in Redding over that short stretch of time.

Soon after Stephen's sighting we learned that Colonel Aaron Burr, one of General Putnam's aides and a frequent visitor to Redding, was the one that had advised General Putnam to ride through and consider our township for encampments following his visit with General Heath's Brigade in July. Heath's troops were stationed near the supply depots just North of Redding (in the town of Danbury) which explained all the soldiers we had frequenting Redding back then.

General Putnam liked what he saw in Redding, and with George Washington's approval three Redding camp locations were selected. Our saw mills bordered two of the three encampment sites and initially the Army proposed that roof slabs and door boards would be cut here and taken to the camps by teamsters. My Father asked them to reconsider because the work to provide the roof slabs and door boards required would bring his regular business to a halt. He showed the Army engineers his saw pits when they visited our mills in October and explained how easy it would be to replicate them at the encampments. They agreed and with Father and Uncle Ephraim's help each camp will be outfitted with saw pits prior to the troops arrival.

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African American soldiers in Redding's encampments

While doing research over the weekend about the number of African American soldiers in Redding's encampments I came across this:

"As for blacks in the Connecticut regiments, we have brigade returns for August 1778 showing 148 black soldiers in Parson's brigade and 62 in Huntington's brigade. At that time the 6th Connecticut Regiment was serving under Brigadier General Parson."

Source: http://www.americanrevolution.org/rees.html 

I found this interesting because both Parsons and Huntington were in Redding for the Winter of 1778 to 1779 and have now started to look a little deeper to see if all 210 Black and Indian soldiers came to Redding.

I'll update as soon as I have more information.

Learn About Sam's Encampment!

Redding Archaeology; Open Spaces and University Excavations

Over the last few years, Redding's open space and planning policies have led to the preservation and study of important archaeological sites. Several college and university archaeological field schools have brought hundreds of students from around the world to unearth Redding's illustrious past.

This Saturday, you are invited to attend a lecture describing Western Connecticut State University's work at the 1778-79 Revolutionary War Middle Encampment. The same encampment "Sam" of My Brother Sam is Dead wintered at prior to his unfortunate execution.

This Lecture will be presented at 3pm on Saturday at the Redding Community Center. Under the leadership of Dr. Laurie Weinstein, Bethany Morrison, and Dr. Cosimo Sgarlata, the Limeklin/Wortleberry Road 1778-79 encampments have been surveyed, mapped and excavated over that past several years. This historic site was part of General Israel Putnam's army that camped here to protect Danbury, Long Island Sound and the Hudson River Valley from British invasion.

Students from WCSU have summered here since 2007 and this talk will discuss the background of the site's history, their research and methodological strategies, highlighted by slides from their field studies.

View the lecture schedule:
Redding Archaeology; Open Spaces and University Excavations

Love and Marriage During the American Revolution

Farmer's livestock was not the only object of the visiting soldier's desires while they were encamped in Redding CT during the Winter of 1778-79.

Below are some entries in the parish records that prove that "amid the horrors of war sly cupid found a chance to inflict his wounds". They are given as entered by the Rev. Nathaniel Bartlett:

Feb. 7, 1779. I joined together in marriage James Gibbons, a soldier in the army, and Ann Sullivan.

March 18, 1779. I joined together in marriage John Lines, a soldier in the army, and Mary Hendrick.

March 30, 1779. I joined together in marriage Daniel Evarts, a soldier in the army, and Mary Rowland.

April 15, 1779. I joined together in marriage Isaac Olmsted, a soldier in the army, and Mary Parsons.

April 28, 1779. I joined together in marriage Jesse Belknap, an artificer in the army, and Eunice Hall.

May 4, 1779. I joined together in marriage William Little, steward to Gen. Parsons, and Phebe Merchant.

May 23, 1779. I joined together in marriage Giles Gilbert, an artificer in the army, and Deborah Hall.

March 9, 1780. I joined together in marriage William Darrow, a soldier in the army, and Ruth Bartram.