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.

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?

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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.

Best Resource for My Brother Sam is Dead

Recently I released my second e-book to help students, teachers and parents better understand the historical fiction novel- My Brother Sam is Dead.

The My Brother Sam is Dead Study Guide is available via Amazon.com's Kindle edition. It is more extensive (67 pages) than any other guide available and the information in it is based on 14 years of research. I grew up in Redding, Connecticut and was surrounded by all that Tim Meeker speaks of in this book. There was so much I could have explored, but I was only 12 years old and never made those connections. So what this examination of My Brother Sam is Dead really is, is an opportunity to prevent children of the current generation from missing out on all this great history. I put a lot of effort into this book for that very reason.

If you purchase or borrow this My Brother Sam is Dead Study Guide at Amazon.com you will find in it:

Chapter One:
About the Book My Brother Sam is Dead

My Brother Sam is Dead is told in the first person by 10 year old Tim Meeker of Redding Ridge. It recounts the hardships endured by Tim and his family during the early stages of the Revolutionary War.

When Tim's older brother Sam returns home from Yale College in New Haven to announce he’s joining the rebel forces, it greatly impacts the rest of his family who wish to remain neutral and/or avoid a rebellious war with England. Tim's family is Anglican and thus loyal to the Church of England; a split with England would greatly affect them...


Chapter Two:
Setting of the Book My Brother Sam is Dead

Redding, Connecticut is located in Southwest Connecticut. Its size is 31.5 square miles, about five miles from north to south, roughly seven miles from east to west. It encompasses 4.9% of Fairfield County.

I also provide background information on Redding before and after the Revolutionary War.


Chapter Three:
Real Life vs. Events Fictionalized in My Brother Sam is Dead

The intent here is to point out real life vs. My Brother Sam is Dead events that relate to Redding, Connecticut. The quotes come directly from the novel; below the quotes are the historical facts these quotes are based on.


Chapter Four:
Places you can visit related to My Brother Sam is Dead

Redding Ridge:
This is where the Meeker's lived. Be sure to explore the Christ Church cemetery, you'll be amazed at how many characters from the book are buried here.

Across the street from the Church looking North are the fields Tim runs across when he attempts to steal back his Father's Brown Bess from Sam.


Chapter Five:
The Characters in the Novel My Brother Sam is Dead

Read all about the characters in the book and learn about the real life people the characters are based on.


Chapter Six:
Why has My Brother Sam is Dead been Challenged or Censored in the Past?

Learn why the novel earned a top 10 listing on the American Way's most challenged book list in 1996.


The 67 page My Brother Sam is Dead Study Guide is available via Amazon.com's Kindle edition.

Want More? 

All I have is at my Dropbox Account...

My Dropbox account is a work in progress so you will always have my latest research and the most accurate information available. You will also have access to new maps and photos and resources.

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.

My Brother Sam is Dead Dropbox Access

Religion Affiliations and the Revolutionary War

Religion was a very important aspect of colonial life and greatly affected the colonist's positions heading into the War of Independence. In order to understand why this was significant to My Brother Sam is Dead's story-line the history of Religion, in England and America, must be examined.

Religion is a topic of the pre-Revolutionary period that is often overlooked. Most of us were taught about the events that led up to the War of Independence via time-lines focused on England's "Acts" and the American Colonist's reaction to them. We are familiar with the individuals that took offense to these actions as "Patriots" or "Rebels" and those that sided with England as "Tories" or "Loyalists". The reality is that it wasn't a simple matter of who was right and who was wrong for colonists faced with the difficult decision of which "side" they were on. My Brother Sam is Dead's authors make us aware of this in Chapter 2:

Betsy Read: "Timmy are you on your father's side or Sam's?

Tim: "I wished she hadn't asked me that question. I didn't want to answer it ; in fact, I didn't know how to answer it. 'I don't understand what it's all about,' I said."

Sam: "It's simple, either we're going to be free or we're not."

Betsy: "It isn't that simple, Sam. There's more to it."

There was more to it as Betsy correctly states- religious affiliation weighed heavily on colonist's positions on the war, especially in 1775. It's important to understand that the Meeker's religious beliefs made them "Loyalists" by default. Sam is unique in that he is an Anglican that is siding with the rebel cause. The Anglican Church was the Church of England, their preachers warned of rebellious behavior and prayed for the health and well being of the King and his Parliament each and every sermon. Conversely, Congregational ministers thundered anti-British tirades from their pulpits week after week, praying for the health and well-being of the troops and their generals. This religious influence resulted in many Anglicans siding with England and many Congregationalists siding with America.

Ultimately, the questions will surface…Why? Why was there a separation between the two religions? Why were Anglicans against a split from England? Why did Congregationalists support the rebellion? These were the very questions I asked myself, and what I found was a very extensive history that dated to 16th century England which clearly illuminated why there was a the division between the religions at the dawn of the Revolution.

King Henry VIII's self-serving actions in the mid-16th century caused a religious-fission in England that resulted in the formation of independent churches that would eventually become American Churches:

Beginning in 1529 and completed in 1536, England which had adhered to the ideals of the Roman Catholic Church for nearly a thousand years, separated from Rome because Henry VIII wanted his marriage to Catherine of Aragon annulled.

When Pope Clement VII refused to grant Henry VIII the annulment, Henry decided to sever ties with Rome. He named himself Supreme Head of the Church of England, thus creating the Anglican Catholic Church, and ensuring the annulment he desired.

Henry VIII's separation from the Roman Catholic Church, resulted in an era of religious uncertainty for the Church of England and its followers as Henry and his successors flip-flopped from Catholic ideals, to Protestant, to Catholic again, finally settling on a fragile union of Catholic and Protestant ideals. The Church of England and Anglicanism lost the favor of many in the process, ultimately spawning a belief that all existing churches had become corrupted by the impositions of Kings and Popes. Consequently, great numbers of Englishmen and women sought separation from the Anglican church and began establishing independent churches based on Christian fellowship, much like that which gathered around Jesus Himself.

[*Recently Episcopal theological conservatives upset by the liberal views of US Episcopalians and Canadian Anglicans have formed a new North American Church Society. This is a good topic to explore if you wish to inform students that what happened in 16th century England still occurs in the present day.]

The long-term affects of these "Purists" and their separatist churches, may have been minimal on the crown, the Anglican Church and its loyal followers if not for the availability of America soil. From the first Puritan pilgrimage, which included 35 members of these separatist groups in 1620, to the start of the English/Puritan Revolution in 1642, six new colonies would join Virginia in America. All six of these new colonies were settled by separatists of the Church of England- five Puritan based religious groups, one Roman Catholic.

These separatists would enjoy absolute freedom in the American Colonies while back in England, puritan revolts led to three Civil Wars between 1642 and 1660. In this period, English King Charles I, was dethroned and executed, a Republican Commonwealth was established in place of the monarchy and authority over the settlements in North America ceased. The American colonists were free to develop their own ideas about political authority, government institutions and religion for nearly 20 years. Even Virginia, lacking imperial rule, followed the lead of the separatist colonies of: Plymouth, Rhode Island, Connecticut, and Massachusetts Bay, and elected its own governor.

Three (3) fundamental principles, of *Connecticut's original eleven (11), won broad support among the American settlers in this time period:

(1) People can create their own governments by composing a written constitution or by transforming a charter into a political framework.

(2) People have a right to govern themselves through representative institutions.

(3) People can most effectively organize church-state relations by practicing religious toleration and by establishing either a single church or a system of multiple churches.

*Connecticut's eleven principles would become known as the Fundamental Orders, and are seen as a prototype for the U.S. Constitution by many scholars today.

When the English government reestablished its monarchy in 1660 and placed King Charles II (1660-1685) on the throne. The American colonists' Fundamental Orders were replaced by Royal Charters and old policies, such as awarding proprietary colonies to the King's supporters returned to America. Royal bureaucrats began reasserting their central control over the American colonies by implementing an economic policy known as mercantilism. Mercantilism involved: The colonies providing the raw materials, which were sent back to England, manufactured into finished products and exported. Often colonies were targeted as markets for these finished products.

The Mercantilism Act was soon followed by a series of Navigation Acts requiring the exclusive use of English ships for trade in the English Colonies and limiting the exports of tobacco, sugar and other commodities to England or its colonies, it also appointed a customs commissioner in the colonies to collect duties on goods that passed between plantations.

These acts were essentially pronouncements of power by the English crown, the statement being: "The colonies of America would be used to increase the wealth of the home country." Their position was understandable, for centuries many powerful nations had prospered on the same strategy. The difference in America was the origins of the settlements themselves. Unlike Virginia which was initially established as a trading outpost funded by English investors for the purpose of exporting raw goods back to England, a large majority of the American Colonies, especially in New England, were established by individuals wishing to enjoy the freedom of practicing their own religious ideals. They did not come to America to assist the King and his Parliament in exerting their power and influence, many had departed England in the wake of a string of rulers whose exertions of power and influence had destroyed the religious fundamentals they held sacred. There was a deep rooted religious opposition to the crown that twenty years of neglect had allowed to flourish and would prove difficult to overcome.

England needed a positive influence in the colonies of America and the promotion of Anglicanism in the 18th century became the means by which the crown achieved this influence. By establishing and expanding the presence of the Church of England in America, the crown created via religion, a loyalty to the King and the British Empire on American soil. This religious advancement began in the early 1700's via missionaries of the S.P.G. "Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts" which was backed by the Venerable Society of London. Though initial resistance to the Church of England was great, in his "Story of the Diocese of Connecticut", Dr. Nelson Rollin Burr later observed that:

by the mid-1700's, the Puritan authorities in Connecticut "gradually realized that dissent (conversions to Anglicanism) had come to stay. They feared that continued intolerance would displease the British government and endanger their precious charter…the result was a series of grudging concessions to religious freedom."

The leaders of Connecticut, conceded religious freedom to the Church of England in 1727. Religious Tolerance opened new membership opportunities to the conversion-minded Anglicans and strengthened their goal of promoting "zeal for the Christian religion, affection to the present Government (the British Monarchy), and conformity to the doctrine and discipline of the Church of England."

The influence of the Church of England spread quickly once tolerance was conceded growing from a despised minority to the second largest Christian religious group in Connecticut. This grow was largely aided by the conversion of Congregational ministers like the Rev. John Beach. By the dawn of the Revolution, Congregationalists and Anglicans were the largest religious groups in America and their views on rebellion were as different as their views on the practice of religion.

Why was Religious Affiliation Important?

Because we separate Church and State in our society, it can be confusing and difficult to understand why religion was of any importance in the Revolution. The reality is Religious affiliation was very important in colonial times, it determined your views, values and often where you lived and worked. Here are a couple examples of how Religion's role was different than it is now and why it was an important element in the colonists opinion on Rebellion:

1. News and Information. News and information was not as accessible and plentiful (in terms of different opinions) as it is today, individuals in rural locations obtained news and information in the following manner:

Post Riders
Post riders brought news and letters to and from towns and cities on horseback (often passing news biased by their own opinions in the process). At the time of the Revolution, there were two dozen newspapers in circulation in all the colonies combined though circulation was not widespread.

Visitors
Visitors from other towns and regions were another source of news and information. Bringing news from other locations to whomever they were visiting and/or passed information in taverns along the way to their destination. They too brought news that was often biased by their own opinions.

Religious Leaders
When it came to issues of importance in most cases it was the opinions of their preachers and ministers that held the most weight. Colonists were religious people and through their religious leaders they received the word of God. Rebellion was obviously an issue of great importance to colonists in America. As tensions flared in the 1770's, Anglican preachers stressed that Christians were obligated to suffer under an oppressive ruler, while Congregational ministers asserted that resistance to tyrants was obedience to God.

The Collier's give us examples of this with Mr. Beach's comments in response to Sam's report on the Rebellion:

"I think men of common sense will prevail. Nobody wants a rebellion except fools and hotheads."

"I don’t think the people of Redding are anxious to fight, Sam…I think you'll find that loyalty is a virtue everywhere."

"God meant man to obey. He meant children to obey their fathers, he meant men to obey their kings. As a subject of the Lord Our God I don't question His ways. As a subject of His Majesty, George the Third, should you questions his ways? Answer me this Sam- do you really think you know better than the King and those learned men in Parliament?"

As an Anglican, Rev. Beach's opinions reflect his loyalty to the Crown of England. Rev. Beach's views and opinions differed greatly from Redding's Congregational Church leader, Rev. Nathaniel Bartlett. Bartlett sympathized entirely with the Patriot's cause: two of his sons entered the Continental Army, munitions of the war were stored at his house, and he himself frequently officiated as chaplain during the encampment of Putnam's troops in the winter of 1778/1779.

Individuals had the right to make their own decision on the rebellion, but they were forced to make it with very limited and heavily biased information. This influence and the confusion it caused is exemplified by Tim's comments in Chapter 2:

"He (Mr. Beach) said that hot-tempered young men who listened not to the voices of their elders would bring a wrathy God down on their own heads. He said that the Bible commanded youth to honor their fathers, which made me pretty nervous for Sam…I knew that God could get Sam if he wanted to; and between worrying about that and being confused over which side was right I couldn't concentrate on church much."


2. Settlements and Towns. Today we live where we choose to. We are free to take-up residence in any, town, state, country we wish to. Colonists had choices too, but they were limited…especially in the 17th and 18th century. Connecticut's earliest "English" settlements, were founded between 1634 and 1654. These "English" settlements were located on the Connecticut River and along Long Island Sound, and were inhabited by individuals with Puritan-Congregational ideals. Over time, new settlers arrived in Connecticut townships, either from Europe or from other colonies in America. Puritan-Congregational ideals in many cases did not appeal to these new settlers but seeing that the Puritan-Congregational religion was already established and by law it was the only religion allowed, those with non-Puritan-Congregational views had little choice but to relocate to a town or settlement that did or head out into the wilderness to carve out their own utopia. It seems very odd, but many towns in Connecticut were created in this manner. It is for this reason towns established in the 18th century, Redding, Connecticut being one of them, were founded by either non-Puritans or a diverse mixture of *Puritan/Non-Puritan religious groups which reflected Connecticut's growth in population and tolerance of religion.

The point to be made here is that in the 18th century colonists were not choosing towns based on preferences like: schools, housing costs, employment opportunities, available amenities, etc…in many cases they were choosing towns that allowed them the freedom to practice their religion of choice and live as they wished to. Because these were often conscientious decisions, the location of one's **community had a tendency to reflect one's religious preference and later one's position on the war in the Revolutionary period.

The Collier's made it very clear in the novel that because Sam's parents were Anglican and lived on Redding Ridge (long settled by those of Anglican faith), it was presumed they were loyal to the crown by those outside of Redding.

*Puritans meaning: Presbyterians, Congregationalists. Non-Puritans meaning: Anglicans / Episcopalians and Baptists.

**Keep in mind, not all Anglicans were against a split from England, not all Congregationalists were for it. Many Anglicans and Congregationalists felt a Rebellious split from England was excessive and a diplomatic approach to the issues was in the best interest of all colonists involved.

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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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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