"Then...A Patriot I'll Be" Recieves a "5 Star Review"....

"Then...A Patriot I'll Be" Recieves a "5 Star Review"....

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Ebookmybook Is Promoting "Then...A Patriot I'll Be"....

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The Massive Guns of Fort Ticonderoga...

The following passage is from the novel, "Then...A Patriot I'll Be". It recounts the arduous task that was performed by Henry Knox, to retrieve the captured cannon from Fort Ticonderoga, and deliver them to Dorchester Heights; thus forcing the British to evacuate Boston....

Henry Knox's Artillery Train From Ft. Ticonderoga to Dorchester Heights

....Struggling with the idea of how to get sufficient canon to Dorchester Heights for Washington’s fortifications, another war counsel was called. The officers met up and kicked around different ideas on where they would get the canons from. Now, they knew that they had some canon from when Captain John Manley captured the British supply vessel Nancy earlier, but that was not enough. They needed more guns, and they needed bigger ones too. It would do no good to stage small canon on the heights. From that distance, a small gun might not even be able to hit a target across the water in Boston. Big canon was the necessity, but Washington and his men struggled with the problem of where to get them from. Finally, the idea came to them. They remembered that Fort Ticonderoga had been captured from the British by Benedict Arnold and Ethan Allen in May of 1775. There was a massive stockpile of canon available at the fort. There was mortar, howitzers, and field guns stored there. Some of the guns were the big guns that Washington needed so badly; twenty-four pounders.

Realizing that there was a supply of canons available to the Continental Army, the counsel was positive about making the fortification effective. Finally, after all the waiting and planning, Washington could now begin his offense. There was however one very big problem facing Washington and his war counsel. Having the guns at his disposal was an extremely uplifting premise. However, the issue at hand now was how to get the guns from Fort Ticonderoga and transport them to Dorchester Heights. That is where Henry Knox would come in. The new friend of General Washington volunteered to take on the epic journey in the cold and snowy conditions. He proposed to Washington that he could make the trip and be back with the cannon in about two weeks. Washington allowed him to undertake this journey. It was the only choice that he had to fortify the heights. The Continental Congress believed in him so strongly that they granted Knox a colonel’s commission. However, the commission did not reach him before he left. He embarked on his quest in mid November, not yet knowing he was now a colonel. Firstly, he would stop in New York City to pick up the supplies he needed for the trip. From there, he made his way to Fort Ticonderoga. It was a treacherous trip through the cold and snow filled forests and mountains. He arrived at Fort Ticonderoga in early December. He made pretty decent time considering how treacherous the trip had been. No sooner had he stepped foot into the fort, he immediately got to work inventorying the guns and preparing the logistics for their transport back to Dorchester.

Once inventorying the guns was completed, he narrowed down what pieces he would be actually taking with him on the journey. He chose to take roughly sixty cannon back with him. Among these cannon were the twenty four pounders that Washington so badly needed. He also decided to take with him various mortars and howitzers; all of which could prove their weight in gold during a bombardment. He had the guns pulled on sleds by teams of oxen from the fort up to the northern end of Lake George. From there, they were loaded on ships that he had already prepared to be there waiting for him. They then began the journey across to reach the southern end of Lake George. On the way to the southern end of the increasingly icy lake, a ship carrying some of the guns sunk. Luckily though, enough of the ship was left above the water line, and she was successfully bailed out and re-floated. A few days later, the flotilla of vessels reached Fort George safely at the southern end of the lake. His first portion of the journey was a success. However, he had much more to go.

Departing Fort George, Knox had over forty more strong duty sleds built and supplied additional yoke of oxen (I have heard upwards of eighty) to pull the sleds through the heavy snow. When the “artillery train” began to move, Knox took off and went ahead of it. He made his way to Albany and met up with General Philip Schuyler. Together, the two men were able to find more equipment and personnel to send north toward the artillery train to assist with the movement. The train lumbered its way through the dense snow toward the Hudson River. Being as cold as it was, the hope was that the river would be sufficiently frozen over with ice to allow the heavy train to cross. Reaching the Hudson however, it was realized that the ice was too thin to support the massive artillery train. Knox and his men decided to assist the river in its freezing. The men began pouring water on the already hardened ice with the hopes of thickening it. To their amazement, it worked, and the train made it safely to Albany. Departing from Albany and heading toward Massachusetts, the train once again had to cross a different portion of the Hudson River. This time, the river would not be tricked into hardening enough, and a few of the heavy cannons crashed through the thin ice and went to the river bottom. Fortunately, with the fusion of manpower and oxen power alike, the guns were able to be retrieved from the river bottom. This was definitely a setback, but Knox knew how important it was to reach the heights with as many pieces of cannon as possible. Once the cannon were recovered from the river, the train mounted up and moved on. Not long after, they finally made it over the Hudson River, for the second time.

The train continued its trek toward Dorchester Heights. Word got around, and it wasn’t too secret of a mission that Knox and his guns were on their way toward Boston. As they passed through various towns, many of the local residents would come out of their homes into the cold and cheer the artillery train on as it went through. In one instance, the train received such a glowing reception by the residents of Westfield that Knox himself loaded up one of the bigger cannon with powder and fired it off. The gathered crowd responded with great applause and huzzahs.

In mid January, Henry Knox and his much needed artillery train finally arrived in Cambridge, and reported to General Washington. The guns of Fort Ticonderoga had finally arrived. They took considerably longer than the original estimate of two weeks to reach their destination. The lumbering train took ten weeks to reach Cambridge. As late as the guns were, Washington was sure relieved that they had arrived at all. Henry Knox had come through. He had delivered the cannon as promised. Upon arrival to Cambridge, he received the news that he had been commissioned as a colonel during his journey. The next step was for the newly commissioned colonel to meet with Washington and the rest of the war counsel. It was time to put together the plan of fortifying Dorchester Heights....

The Fall of Fort Washington....

In greatful commemoration to the brave men that fought in for the ill-fated defense of Fort Washington, the following passage is from the novel, "Then...A Patriot I'll Be". It recounts the experience of a Continental Soldier as he fought in the final moments before losing the fort to the combined forces of the British and Hessians....

Continental Defenders of Fort Washington

 

....We had gotten within twenty yards of the fort or so, and now we were afforded some cover fire from the men stationed atop the wooden walls of the structure. Luckily for us, this barrage of musketry caused the advancing Hessians to slow their pace just long enough for us to make it to the heavy wooden doors of the fort. As we made it to the doors, they were swung open and a group of riflemen came out to provide some more cover fire to allow us all to run inside and shut the doors tightly. As the doors shut behind us, I fell to the ground while trying to catch my breath. After all, it had been a long run and the pace was at a sprint rather than a jog. I checked on my mates and was assured that they too, though also in need of breath, were ok. Even Jessie had managed the retreat, and he now stood at the walls of the fort firing off his weapon at the enemy outside, seemingly unfazed by the run he had just participated in. I was thankful that although he was in the grasp of madness, he still had enough logic left in him to retreat when the redoubt was overrun.

While still crouched on the ground and trying to catch our breath, an officer came up to Thomas, Francis, and I and presented us with his canteen. “Drink up men, you have had quite a run from those German buggers”, he jollily said with a comforting smile. “Once you have had your refreshment, get to the walls lads. We have need for every available musket to hold the bastards off”. I replied that we would, and the officer went on to the next group of men clearly suffering from the retreat as well. I came to find out that that officer was none other than Colonel Robert Magaw.

Not taking too much time to recuperate, my mates and I quickly took our positions up along the walls of the fort, and began firing down upon the still attacking Hessians and regulars. As they had gotten so close, I was almost positive that some of my musket balls had hit their mark and taken down more than one of my foes. One shot in particular, I actually saw enter the body of a Hessian as he loaded his weapon to fire upon me……. I had just finished ramming down a cartridge into the breach of my musket, when I heard the distinct buzzing sound of a projectile whiz past my head, nearly taking my ear off with it. “Sausage eating bastards almost got me”, I thought! Now enraged, I completed my muzzle load and replaced the ram rod back into the hoops beneath the barrel. Someone was about to pay for nearly knocking me off my perch. I looked upon the mixed masses of blue and red coated enemies and found my target. There, loading his recently fired weapon, and looking back at me with a devilish smile was a big fat Hessian soldier. I was certain that this was the fellow that had fired upon me and nearly sent me to my maker. If he wasn’t the scoundrel that fired upon me however, he would suffer all the same for the color of his uniform. Time seemed to stand still, as our eyes locked upon each other. When he saw that I was already loaded and about to take aim, his evil grin turned into a look of nervous desperation, as he scrambled to get his musket ready to fire at me first. I put my musket to my shoulder and took aim down the barrel. Suddenly, I no longer felt remorse for shooting at a man in combat. Someone was going to die that day, and it was either going to be me or him. I was about to do all in my power to see to it that it wouldn’t be me.

The Hessian continued to fumble with his weapon as I steadied myself to lock my sights onto him. I wanted to make sure I had this shot perfectly executed, as I didn’t want to allow the enemy a second chance to return his fire and this time straighten out his musket ball. Looking down my barrel, I could see that the enemy soldier had now finished his weapon loading and was about to put the butt of the gun to his shoulder in anticipation of firing at me. I cursed myself for taking so long to aim my musket, and now given him the chance to present his arms toward me! Another glance to his bloated mustache covered face, and now it appeared that his demonic smile had returned. I suppose that in his mind, he had once again gained the advantage due to my stupidity of allowing him the time to make ready his piece. I knew that I had to aim and fire fast now, as my enemy was endeavoring to do the same. I once again steadied my sights and made sure that I could see his massive body from down the length of my musket barrel. He now held his piece securely in the firing position, and was involved with cocking his lock back to the second position. “I had to act now”! I rubbed my finger along the trigger and squeezed with all my might. The plume of red flame shot out of my barrel, and through the smoke, I witnessed the musket ball tear into the monstrous man’s chest. Upon striking him, a burst of red exploded from the wound, and the blood instantly covered his grayish small clothes.

The man didn’t go down right away, although he did drop his musket upon receiving the wound. At this time, I heard nothing of the war engaging around me. It was as if complete silence encased me from the horrible struggle occurring. All appeared to be at a slower pace once my shot tore into the poor German. I could only focus on this mortally wounded man at the time, and nothing more. I recall his head falling down toward his torn open chest and then rising back up again. He grasped at his wound while staring into the eyes of the American who delivered the blow. His eyes told the tale that he was not only shocked by what happened, but also a bit nervous of what was to come. The dark red blood continued to ooze out from behind his hand as it now covered the wound. Falling down to his knees, the dying soldier continued to look out to me; his tall miter hat now fallen off his massive head. I heard not groans or cries of pain from the Hessian. He simply stayed fixated into my eyes as the blood now began to come up from his gut and flow out from the corners of his mouth. I just stared at him, as I had never so graphically witnessed a man in the throes of death; let alone, the death that my musket had created for him. It took what seemed like ages for the man to succumb to his wound, but finally, the poor Hessian’s body flopped from his knees, to face down in the dirt; kicking up dust as it smashed into the ground. This was followed by a slight twitch of his torso, and then there was stillness. The Hessian had crossed to the beyond, and although I had sent him there before he was able to do so to me, I silently wished him a peaceful travel.

Once I realized that the man had died, all the horrors of war began to come back to me. Time picked up its pace, and the sounds of battle were once again as clear as they had been before my encounter with the Hessian. Around me, men were dropping at their positions in the fort. Before me, enemy soldiers were falling dead as they took on musket fire while charging the walls. The rattling of musket volleys now echoed through my head. Snapping back to the reality of war, I shook my head clear of the dead Hessian and began to load my musket; for I would need to continue my part in the defense of the fort.

We continued to fight the good fight, but there were just too many of them coming at us. As I was firing my musket out over the walls, I was nearly looking clear in the face of the enemy as he climbed up on the wooden defenses. The Hessians were climbing over the walls of the fort like a dark plague infesting the citadel. We continued firing, but the enemy’s numbers were too great. We were ordered to move back from the walls and regroup toward the center of the fort, as it was obvious that we weren’t able to stop the enemy from coming over the walls. Any man unfortunate enough to not be able to get off the walls in time was slaughtered via bayonet as the Hessian beasts scaled the defenses. It was unbearably loud inside the fortress, as the combined sounds of men screaming in pain, musket fire, and the chilling battle cries of the Hessians combined to make it nearly impossible to hear the orders that our officers were yelling out to us. At this point, it didn’t matter anyway. It had almost become a “save yourself” type of situation, as our ranks broke up during the hand to hand combat that had ensued once enough of the enemy had made it inside the fort.

In a last ditch defense, we had nearly fifty of our men line up to give the Hessians one last volley before our inevitable slaughter at the hands of these mercenaries. There was one lone sergeant giving us our final firing commands. We quickly loaded in open order and prepared for our last stand. “To the ready”, he yelled with his sword up high! Across from us was a hulking mass of enemy soldiers cutting and slashing anyone they could get their infernal bayonets to. They were so involved with their butchering that they hadn’t noticed that we were lined up to fire upon them. The sergeant flung the blade of his sword down and yelled, “Fire Men! Damn you, Fire”! Instantaneously, we all squeezed our triggers, and a massive volley of hot lead tore into the enemy as they were busy slicing up our unfortunate men at the walls.

As the smoke cleared, I noticed that we had taken out a great deal of the Hessians, but unfortunately, more of them (including regulars as well) were now climbing over the walls in waves of red and blue. The situation turned bleak. Our officers had no orders to give, and they seemed as nervous as we were. All this time, some brave men still continued to resist the invading forces from the walls; using their muskets to block the bayonets and swords coming toward them at a fevering pace. It was a sad sight to behold however, as nearly all of them were hacked up and dispatched to the earth. Desperately, we began to load our muskets one more time, with the intention that though we would inevitably be cut to bits by the ghoulish Hessians, we could at least fire on a few of them; hopefully causing some casualties for their effort....