storytellers

GeneralArnold77

Some of this is on the other Hubbardton thread, however due to requests by some people I've agreed to make this a seperate thread to make reading it a bit easier.

Chapter 2

Sucker Brook
Hubbardton, Hampshire Grants
July 7th, 1777
06:15am

The drums had beat reveille, and the men of Second New Hampshire had woken up to a dimly lit, gray landscape, covered in a thicker blanket of fog. They huddled around their small fires and heated their water to warm their used tea leaves to make the morning tea. Others packed up their blanket rolls, and readied themselves to move again. These soldiers couldn’t be more in a state of ill-preparation to respond to what was coming. Two men knelt down next to Sucker Brook and filled their canteens, also preparing for the day’s activities.

Sheridan wandered through his company’s formation. His eyes searched the faces of his men. Some were as old as sixty, others were as young as fifteen. All of them told the story of all the trials they’d gone through together. Even the ones who had been there only a short time had suffered in their garrison of Fort Ticonderoga and Mount Independence. Now they nibbled their hard tack, and moldy cheese, a meager breakfast, but well appreciated among the soldiers who had been living on half rations for the past four months.

Sheridan looked up for a moment, scanning the morning horizon, when he saw something dim, move in the distance. His eyes squinted, and his hand reached back into his haversack and pulled out his telescope and focused it in on the area of movement he’d just seen. Four men, then five, then six, appeared out of the trees. Men wearing short green coats with red facings. Black helmets sat on their heads with a silver emblem in the center. Two of them had red horse hair sprouting out the top. One of them pointed towards Sheridan. Sheridan pulled the spyglass down and turned towards the rest of the company behind him, “To arms, to arms!!!” Sheridan shouted, “Sergeants, form the Company!” Men scrambled up and grabbed as much of their gear as they could, particularly their muskets, cartridge boxes and bayonets.

By the time the companies of 2nd New Hampshire began to form their loose lines, an entire company of Kings Rangers had arrived outside the wood line. They moved gently into a skirmish formation facing their colonial enemies. Following the, now, two companies of Kings Rangers, came a company of red coated light infantry. They also formed a skirmish line and began firing at the colonial formations. They worked in pairs, one man fired while the other loaded. This kept at least half the men loaded at all times.

Coupon Company was the first to be fully formed and ready for action. Sheridan moved his company off the dirt road and into the brush some. The grass was wet, and soaked many of their clothes. They stopped, and brought their muskets down from the shoulder arms position to the loading position.

“Prime and load!” Sheridan shouted as he drew his silver hilted sword. It was not a large saber, but more a thin blade. Stout, but gentlemanly in appearance, however Sheridan had sharpened it to a razor edge on both sides of the blade. He slide the silver sword knot around his wrist, to stop him from losing his sword completely should it become knocked from his hand.

The soldiers of Coupon Company quickly pulled the cartridges from their boxes. They didn’t have many, but it was enough to at least send some rounds down range at their enemy. Sheridan kept his eye on the enemy as they began firing and advancing. Titcomb organized the rest of the regiment and got them ready to move. The question was, move forward or back. One of the companies was already on it’s way up the back side of the hill. Titcomb, remember Hale’s instructions. Though he would have enjoyed standing and taking the fight to the enemy, but he had his orders, and he was going to carry them out. He looked around for Coupon Company, planning on having Captain Cherry’s Light Infantry form a screen allowing the rest of the regiment to withdraw.

“Make ready!” Sheridan shouted, as his men pulled the hammer back on their muskets, “Present!” The soldiers leveled their muskets at their enemy. They didn’t aim, not that it would have done any good if they had because the muskets were so inaccurate where you “aimed” it didn’t determine where the musket ball would go when it came out the end, “Fire!” The muskets roared out into the morning, sending musket balls flying out the muzzles. Unfortunately few of them would reach their intended targets. Only two of the enemy units coming against the lone company fell as they continued to advance.

“Captain Sheridan! Fall back!” Titcomb hollered from across the field as Cherry’s Lights formed a skirmish line, matching that of the Crown Forces.

“Yes sir.” Sheridan shouted back before turning back to his company, “Coupon Company, Shoulder your Firelocks!” the men moved their muskets to the shoulder and prepared to leave, “Right about face!” his men turned around, pivoting on the balls of their feet and their heals, “To the front, quick, march.”

The men of Coupon Company, who had given the British their first resistance of the day, began to march across the dirt road and across the field to the back side of the hill. Slowly they began to climb the hill, along with the rest of the Regiment. A few shots were heard as Cherry’s lights covered the withdrawal of their brothers in arms.

By the time Sheridan and his company reached the top of the hill, the 11th Massachusetts was already formed and moving up to the top of the hill. Most of them were in normal civilian clothes, while a few managed to retain their blue coats with white facings. Some loose musket fire could be heard from the other side of the field where Seth Warner’s Green Mountain Regiment with elements of the 2nd New Hampshire and Witcomb’s Rangers begining to engage the second prong of the British advance.

Hale and the men of 2nd New Hampshire, that he had with him, formed a line as best they could and prepared to fight. Hale turned and looked to Colonel Seth Warner, a large man, from the Castletown area of the grants, and a cousin to Ethan Allen, the former commander of the Green Mountain Regiment. When the regiment had decided to try and be recognized as a Continental Regiment prior to the invasion of Canada, they voted Seth Warner in as their commander, feeling that Ethan Allen would never be taken seriously as a Continental officer. So this regiment of back woodsmen and farmers belonged to Seth Warner, for almost two years now, and here it was, fighting at home.

Warner stood tall behind his lines as he recived reports from the other areas of the battlefield. Hale listened closely to hear of any news from his 2nd New Hampshire Regiment. Dispite his best efforts, Hale could hear little over the increasing musket fire that was now beginning to take place between the American troop on the left end of the line and the advancing Crown Forces.

Musket balls flew. Some spattered dirt from the ground as they plowed their way into the dirt. Others sliced the air above the heads of their intended targets. Few actually struck home. Muskets were very inaccurate weapons, and practically useless unless afixed with a bayonet. The problem was that it was smooth bore, and thus had no riflings in it to make the projectile spin as it came out. The other problem was that most of the men were using a smaller caliber ball than the diameter of the musket. This caused the ball to bounce down the barrel, only adding to it’s inaccuracy. The one thing the American’s had going for them that day was that they were firing a combination called “Buck and Ball.” This meant, simply, that the muskets were loated with more than just the normal lead musket ball, but they also had small pelets thrown down to add projectiles to them, like small pieces of bird shot. This would prove to have devistating effect this day.

Coupon Company reformed and formed on the extream right of the regimental line. Titcomb had arrived just a few moments earlier with Captain Cherry and his Light Infantry Company. Their enemy seemed to have stalled. Though they could hear the fighting going on down on the left of the line, nothing could be seen from the center over to the right. Still the regiments waited. Sheridan, like most of the commanders of 2nd New Hampshire, had his men load and stand by. When the enemy appeared they would be ready.

“Keep calm lads.” Sheridan reasured his men, “You’re doing well. Keep it up.” He walked up and down his line, keeping his men comforted and secure. For some of them this was their first action. It had happened all too suddenly. Two men had run off and forgotten their muskets, but as Sheridan told them, there would be plenty to be had once the fight started.

“It’s quiet, sir.” the Sergeant said.

Sheridan nodded, “Too quiet for my liking.” No sooner had he said that then drums could be heard from below them. The enemy was preparing to make their advance up the back side of the hill, and it was time for the colonials to welcome them, “Here they come lads, be ready!”

This was it, the entire rear guard was about to be engulfed in the fires of combat. Each man prepared for it in his own way. Some tiped their heads back for a quick prayer, others fiddled with their wedding rings, or muskets. Sheridan stood, looking calm as could be as he put his hand on his hip and waited. His sword in his right hand, ready to do what was nessisary to keep it’s owner alive. Titcomb rubbed his face as he looked over the hill and waited for what they all were waiting for the first splash of red against the cut hillside. It soon came.

A man with a red coat, gold facings and a light infantry helmet appeared out of the thin tree-line. He fired a round towards the Massechusettes troops, who answered back with a roar of company fire. None of their rounds hit the man as he scampered back into the woods. Soon the ragged volley of musket fire was answered by a much more concentrated volley, which seemed to blast it’s way out of the woods. Soon line upon line of red coated troops appeared out of the trees. Some were the light infantry the Americans seemed to have been fighting all morning, while others were tall men with bear-skin helmets who seemed to lume out of the trees. These were the British Grenadiers, the elite of the British Army. Others were much more ranger-like in their appearence, and could almost be passed for colonials themselves, these were the Loyalists. The militias and other, more regimented units, who had signed on to fight for King George.

“Fire!” Sheridan shouted, as Coupon Company joined in the roar of musket fire which seemed to be errupting from the American Lines, “Prime and load, quickly boys!”

The British fired back, their vollies, while having less effect on the Americans, were much more concentrated and much more one sound than the ragged vollies the American’s were firing. Officers shouted to their men, and the muskets fired, slamming into the shoulders of their owners. Some misfired, caused by a bad flint, or a dirty frizzon. Still the battle was clearly heating up.

Sheridan walked to the end of his line to look at what the enemy was was doing, when a man flew back in a hail of blood and brains. Sheridan caught the man and laid him down gently on the ground, his hand getting covered in blood. He looked back up, his face now spattered with the dead man’s blood. A member of the King’s Rangers was taking direct aim at him. Sheridan acted fast, he picked up the fallen man’s musket and pointed it at the enemy soldier and pulled the trigger. The musket slammed back in his shoulder, and as the smoke cleared Sheridan could see the man fall back, holding his shoulder. Sheridan may not have killed him, but he’d saved his own life once again.

The Crown Forces began to push up the hill, slowly getting the advantage over their colonial advasaries. They formed ranks and began to advance slowly. The Americans were still in a state of shock at the suddenness of the British attack. Their lines began to falter slowly, giving the British even more incentive to press their advance. The 11th Mass began to fall back slowly, as did a couple of companies of the 2nd New Hampshire. Sheridan looked past the 11th Mass and saw the green coats of the Green Mountain Regiment formed on the left end of the line.

“Hold your line boys!” Sheridan said, “Hold firm.”

The muskets continued to roar out. The British troops who were attempting to advance against the 2nd New Hampshire were finding it more difficult than those who were pushing the other two regiments. Sheridan continued to pour vollies out of Coupon Company, as which helped take the pressure off the rest of the regiment. Titcomb watched as the British prepared to cross the small stone wall, which would have put them on the left of the 2nd New Hampshire. He quickly moved Cherry’s Lights down a bit, and faced them at a diagonal, to cover the withdraw of the rest of the regiment.

“2nd New Hampshire, fall back!” Titcomb hallored.

Sheridan turned back to Coupon Company, “First section make ready!” his men pulled the hammers back on their muskets, “Present, “They leveled them at their enemy, “Fire!!” they pulled the triggers and the muskets slammed into their shoulders as they spat their rounds of death towards the enemy. Sheridan sidestepped a bit, “Second Section, make ready!” the same process was done with each order, causing another volley to pour out of the line of the headquarters company of 2nd New Hampshire. Sheridan had his men reload, preparing them to give another volley to the enemy.

“Captain Sheridan, fall back!” Titcomb shouted, as First New Market company fired a volley into the ranks of the British advancing over the wall.

Sheridan tightened his lips over his teeth as he swore lightly. He didn’t like giving ground but he knew that they would be completely cut off if they didn’t fall back now, “Coupon Company, right about face!” his line turned around in place, “To the front quick march!” Sheridan pointed his sword straight towards the place they were intending on going.

The company marched forward, and a crowd of green coated loyalists rushed over the wall, and took up position on the front side of it. They began firing sparatic shots at the withdrawing company. Two men fell backwards as the company moved forward to it’s new location. Two companies of the 2nd New Hampshire fired vollies past Coupon Company to cover their retreat from the eager British Light Infantry. The musket fire seemed non stop. If one company wasn’t firing another was, on both sides. It seemed a constant crackling that told of an epic battle.

Sheridan turned and took a couple steps backwards as he watched his men, “Company halt! Right about face!” the company turned around and faced their enemy. They’d only given about twenty yards or so, but that was twenty yards that Sheridan had no interest giving. He knew that situation wouldn’t allow him to be as agressive or stubborn as he wanted to be, and he would have to swallow his pride and do what needed to be done to get his company out of this place, with as many of them alive as possible.

Durring this time, while the Americans and British fought for control of the hill, Brigadier General Simon Fraser sent a collumn of Grenadiers around to block the road to Castletown, the American escape route. The Americans had no idea, and were in for a big suprise when they tried to leave. The British seemed to have paused in their advance, though none of the Americans knew why but they weren’t going to ask.

“Come on lads, push them!” Colonel Ebeneezer Francis, of the 11th Mass shouted as his regiment began moving forward.

Sheridan didn’t even wait for Titcomb to give the order, “To the front, Quick March!” Within moments the entire American line was moving forward against their British aggressors. The British began to fall back over the backside of the hill, “Company, take care, halt!” Sheridan shouted, “First and second sections make ready!” fifty men prepared their muskets, “Present!” fifty muskets leveled towards their withdrawing enemy, “Fire!” Sheridan gave the final order that sent fourty three muskets blazing at their enemy, the other seven had misfired due to worn flints, or dirty frizzons.

The British had disapeared for the moment. On all fronts. It seemed the Americans had gotten the upper hand of this fight... for now.

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“Fixed fortifications are monuments to man's stupidity.” ~General George S Patton Jr.