Sumner's Journey: A Novel of the Revolutionary War

By J.S. Chaves

The revolutionary war in the Southern colonies at its most raw

Sumner's Journey chronicles the path of farmer turned soldier, Gabriel Sumner, from the Battle of Cowpens through Guilford Court House, two of the Revolutionary War's most important battles, as well as the Race to the Dan River, one of the Revolutionary War's bloodiest campaigns. Dissect the strategy and relive the savagery of the fighting during the many scrimmages of that campaign, fighting which often devolved into hand-to-hand combat.

March with Gabriel and his men as they endure cold, hunger, and supply shortages while facing off against Banestre "Bloody Ban" Tarleton and the might of Lieutenant General Charles Lord Cornwallis's army. Reminding one and all of the sacrifices bore by the common soldier to secure our freedom from England.

Be with Gabriel as he is transformed from farmer and simple soldier to an officer in the 1st Maryland Infantry enduring the prejudice of being raised from the ranks. Follow his transformation from rejected figure to the regiment's most revered officer.

Sumner's Journey is a must-read for anyone wishing to learn about our struggle for independence.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fulton Books, Inc.
• Release date: Jun 12, 2023
• ISBN: 9798887319339

Book preview

Table of Contents

Title

Copyright

Introduction

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

About the Author

cover.jpg

Sumner's Journey

A Novel of the Revolutionary War

J.S. Chaves

Copyright © 2023 J.S. Chaves

All rights reserved

First Edition

Fulton Books

Meadville, PA

Published by Fulton Books 2023

ISBN 979-8-88731-932-2 (paperback)

ISBN 979-8-88731-933-9 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Introduction

January 1781. The American colonies. Five years of bitter fighting in the northern colonies had not produced a decisive victory for the British Army. Despite their many battlefield successes, the Continental Army had always managed to slip away. And as long as there was a Continental Army in the field to oppose them, the rebellion stayed alive.

In England, opposition to the war among members of parliament was steadily growing, and England again found itself officially at war with France. It was only a matter of time before the French arrived in North America to aid the rebellious colonies. Under these circumstances, a new and final strategy was born, one designed to split the American colonies in two and finally bring the rebellion to an end.

Under the leadership of Lieutenant General Charles Lord Cornwallis, the British brought the Revolutionary War to the Southern colonies. The British had been attracted there by the population's overwhelming support for the Crown. The strategy involved taking possession of the Southern colonies and raising new recruits from among the inhabitants there. Once a large army had been formed, it would march north, sweeping away and destroying all opposition in its path. The strategy then called for it to link up with Sir Henry Clinton's army in New York and together end the rebellion in the American colonies once and for all.

The British had little trouble taking the port cities of Savannah and Charleston, where they captured more than five thousand Continental regulars. Then, at the Battle of Camden on August 16, 1780, the British defeated the only Continental Army of any real size between themselves and New York. All that remained to oppose them was a small contingent of Continental regulars from Maryland, Virginia, and Delaware—no more than twelve hundred men in all. Low on provisions and morale, they hardly seemed a threat. Everything seemed to be working according to plan, and for the first time in many years, the British had good cause to be optimistic. Or so they thought.

In the middle of this seemingly hopeless situation stood a man. A family man from Maryland. A colonial farmer in rebellion against his king.

Gabriel Alister Sumner, Sergeant, Company B, 1st Maryland Infantry

January 16, 1781

My darling Rachel,

I hope this letter finds you and the children in good health and in good spirits. I miss you all terribly and think of you often. I was glad to hear the Porters are helping with the farm and in obtaining provisions. It is very comforting to know you have their support while I am gone. It is reassuring to know that folks back home continue to take care of one another during this time of war and uncertainty.

As for me, the past week has been particularly rough. We are being aggressively pursued through the Carolina backcountry. The climate has been cold and wet, making the roads muddy and nearly impassable, slowing our retreat. The creeks are swollen and the currents swift, making them difficult to cross. Night after night, we sleep on wet ground, and at times, it seems impossible to get warm. Under these conditions, we continue our retreat towards North Carolina.

We are currently encamped in what appears to be a large pasture bordered by thick woods on both sides. Captain Anderson told us the local farmers call this place The Cowpens. We arrived late in the afternoon, and I hope to finish this letter while there is still enough light to write. As usual, we are low on provisions, particularly rations and cartridges. Indeed, at times, it feels as though the army subsists on patriotic sentiment and sips of hope. But we go on. We must have a victory, a turning point, and soon. Too much retreat is bad for an army. We must be afforded an opportunity to prove that, despite debacles like Camden, we can still fight.

Rachel, please do not worry about me. Providence has kept me safe this past year, and I have faith it will continue to do so.

I miss the softness of your hands, the reassurance of your smile, and the laughter of our children. Take care, my love. I will write more when I can.

Most affectionately yours,

Gabriel

Chapter 1

The morning of January 17, 1781, dawned cold and gray, bringing with it an icy mist that seemed to shroud all things. The morning stars were beginning to fade, and the first rays of light were just starting to glow on the eastern horizon. Captain Richard Anderson, commanding company B of the 1st Maryland Infantry, began to make the rounds about his encampment. Quickly but silently, he moved among the cluster of tents, careful to avoid the stacked arms and the previous night's fires, some of which still showed coals and embers. He enjoyed this time of day: the quiet stillness of the pre-morning, the smell of wood fire, his breath visible in the cold air.

Captain Anderson considered himself fortunate to have been given this command. He had inherited the remnants of two companies decimated at the battles of Waxhaws and Camden. All the men were well drilled, battle-tested, and reliable veterans. The deserters, shirkers, and cowards had, by now, all disappeared. He felt confident taking his company into battle. Quietly, one by one, he woke the three sergeants under his command.

Gabriel, characteristically unable to sleep prior to an engagement, was staring at the ceiling of his tent. He was pondering his past year of service with the army. As a sergeant, he had started out with sixteen men in his charge, and there were now only nine left. Two had died of disease, two had been so grievously wounded they were deemed unfit for service and were granted leave to return home, and a further three had been killed in battle.

Currently, one of his men was suffering from a wretched fever. However, on this eve of battle, the man reported himself as fit for duty, a testament to the commitment these men had for one another and the cause. Regrettably, the prospect of acquiring replacements was not good. The five shillings offered as recruitment bounty by the State of Maryland in paper script were all but worthless.

Provisioning was another challenge for this army. Congress' inability to keep the army supplied, particularly through the winter, meant that the men suffered from hunger, cold, inadequate shelter, and disease.

It does not matter, Gabriel thought. If we lose this coming battle, the war in the Southern colonies will be all but lost.

Sergeant Sumner! A word outside if you please, Captain Anderson whispered in an authoritative tone.

Gabriel was startled. He had not heard the footsteps approaching on the frozen grass. Half rolling and half kneeling, he reached the tent flap and stood at attention before his commanding officer. Captain Anderson was not overly strict, but Gabriel could not help it. Strict discipline was so engrained in him as to be second nature. Gabriel also believed that this characteristic, above all others, was what had turned Maryland farmers, shopkeepers, carpenters, fishermen, and blacksmiths into one of the best regiments in the Continental Army and the equal of any regiment that the British could muster.

Captain Anderson whispered, Officers and sergeants are to meet me at the rear of the supply train for a briefing in ten minutes.

Yes, sir!

As Captain Anderson turned to leave, Gabriel asked, Should I wake them up, sir? Should I get the lads moving?

No, Sergeant. Let them sleep a bit longer. I have a feeling they are going to need it today.

With that, Captain Anderson disappeared in the half light. Gabriel went back into his tent, which he shared with three of his men, and quietly began to pack his things. Once he was finished with his pack, haversack, and canteen, he brought them outside and placed them next to the stacked arms to the right of the fire. He was now certain that almost ten minutes had passed since the captain's visit, and he made his way to the rear of the supply train.

Once there, he saw that he was among the last to arrive. The men assembled were blowing on their hands and stomping their feet against the cold.

Captain Anderson cleared his throat and addressed the group. Tarleton's camp has been spotted four miles to the southwest. Our scouts report that they have already broken camp and are on the march. As far as the scouts were able to make out, Tarleton's forces include his legion, which is said to number about five hundred cavalry and infantry. He is reinforced by elements of the 7th Royal Fusiliers Regiment and elements of the 71st Highlanders. They are supported by at least one battery of six-pounder guns. In all, his forces are estimated to number about fourteen hundred men.

To Gabriel, it appeared that, for once, the odds would be near even.

Captain Anderson continued, The Maryland regiment will join the Delaware regiment in the center of the main line of resistance. Carefully prepare your sections, for there will be a hard fight in the next few hours. No time for a full breakfast. Hardtack and coffee will have to do.

Gabriel laughed to himself. Was the captain joking? All they had left was hardtack and coffee. And they were lucky to still have that.

Any questions? Captain Anderson asked.

No one spoke. Gabriel and the others were dismissed, and they set about rousting their men and getting them ready.

Overall, Gabriel had a good opinion of his captain. He had served under his command for almost a year, and Captain Anderson had proved to be a courageous and competent officer. He looked after the welfare of his men and was not above sharing their hardships. Gabriel was comforted by the knowledge that the Delaware Continentals would be next to them in the coming fight. They were solid, dependable professionals. Perhaps the army stood a good chance after all.

The sun had not fully emerged from the horizon when the company was mustered and put into three lines of twenty men each. Captain Anderson, along with Lieutenants Tate and Alderman, inspected the men. They checked the men's muskets, bayonets, and equipment but also took note of their demeanor. The inspection left no doubt that these men were ready for a fight.

Just prior to muster, the men had been issued a supply of cartridges. Now every man in the company had fifteen rounds in their cartridge boxes. Thirty rounds was the standard at the time, but in this army, there was just not enough to go around. The canteens had been filled and bayonets sharpened. They had been ordered to leave their packs behind and bring only their canteen, weapons, and ammunition. Gabriel brought with him one additional item: a Cherokee tomahawk. It had belonged to his late father, who fought in the French and Indian War in the frontier country of Virginia and had learned to use it skillfully in hand-to-hand combat against the natives.

This skill had been passed down to Gabriel, who carried the blade on his belt in the small of his back. He had used it in close-quarter fighting and had found it to be handier and more effective in killing than his bayonet. Gabriel also believed it brought him luck. It was as if his beloved father was with him in battle. In truth, the tomahawk was more than a talisman. It had saved his life more than once. Carrying the tomahawk was strictly against regulations, but Captain Anderson looked the other way, believing that Gabriel's leadership and seniority earned him some leeway.

Captain Anderson called the men to attention and ordered, Present arms! He then surprised the men by ordering them to prime and load! The commands were echoed by the two lieutenants and three sergeants, including Gabriel. This last command surprised Gabriel, for it seemed very premature. The command to load was normally only given when the unit had deployed into line of battle alongside other units and when confrontation with the enemy was imminent. It was clear that Captain Anderson wanted the entire company to be prepared to fire at a moment's notice.

No sooner had Gabriel worked this out in his mind than Captain Anderson brought the mystery to an unpleasant end. He announced that they were initially to be deployed as skirmishers, prior to taking their place in the main line of resistance. No doubt the captain had kept this from his men to avoid unnecessary worry and loss of focus, for it was common knowledge that skirmish duty was among the most hazardous.

Company B had been chosen by Colonel William Smallwood, commander of the 1st Maryland Infantry, for their reputation and for the ten sharpshooters in the company, who were equipped with .50-caliber Pennsylvania long rifles. These rifled muskets had longer barrels, used extra-fine gunpowder, and had a killing range of nearly three hundred yards. The downside to these was that they took twice as long to load as a standard-issue musket, and they could not be fitted with a bayonet.

This company would be tasked with engaging the British light companies at the center of their line. Their job would be to slow these British front-line units and make it more difficult for them to form into a line of battle. At the same time, the sharpshooters would be busy working to thin the British officer ranks (targeting and killing British officers). This practice was abhorred by the British, who considered the deliberate targeting of officers to be barbaric and against the rules of civilized warfare. After six years of brutal war, the Continental Army cared little about what the British considered civilized.

Most recently, at the Battle of Waxhaws in May 1780, British Lieutenant Colonel Banestre Tarleton's Green Dragoons had ridden into a loose formation of Virginia Continentals attempting to surrender. The result was a bloody massacre¹ that made Tarleton infamous and earned him the nicknames Butcher and Bloody Ban. If this was the way British officers behaved while fighting Americans, then it was well deserved that they should be targeted at the onset of every engagement. It was clear to Gabriel that the riflemen in his company were setting out to do just that!

Captain Anderson shouted, Company! Line of march! With practiced precision, the company quickly formed into a long column, four men abreast, with the captain at the front of the line and the officers marching along on the margins. Company! Trail arms… At the double-quick… March!

In this fashion, nearly running, they passed the main defensive line of the Continental Army, composed of Maryland, Delaware, and Virginia Continentals. These units were deployed on the reverse slope of a gentle hill to Gabriel's left. They were positioned on the northernmost end of the Cowpens, with the Broad River just two hundred yards behind them. Gabriel surmised that this would be the main line of resistance for the Continental Army. He looked to his right and beheld the host of British regulars beginning to form into lines on the slope of the southernmost hill, which marked the exit to the Cowpens. They appeared to blanket the entire slope of the hill like a swarm of red ants. These men, led by Bloody Ban, would be their adversaries on this day.

It was not quite eight o'clock in the morning and still not full light, but the battle was at hand. Behind them and to their left, Gabriel's company beheld a large group of North and South Carolina Patriot militia forming forward and center of the main line of resistance. The militia looked to number about three hundred. Yet another smaller line of militia was forming in front of the first and appeared to be deploying about two hundred yards from where the British were forming and dressing their front line. To either side of this second line of militia, forty of Colonel Andrew Pickens's riflemen had begun to harass the British with their Pennsylvania rifles.

After taking a position in front of the second line of militia (and closest to the British), Captain Anderson shouted three orders in quick succession: To the left, three ranks… Skirmish order… Sharpshooters to the flanks! Almost immediately, the company went from line of march to three lines of twenty men. A sergeant and an officer led each line. The men in each line were spread out approximately three yards apart from each other. The lines were parallel to one another but spaced five yards apart and laid out like a checkerboard. Each line had been assigned a number—one, two, or three.

Then Captain Anderson shouted, Company officers, command your lines! Number one, make ready… Present… Fire!

At the very front, line number one fired at the large host of British soldiers still forming their lines eighty yards directly in front. This first line then began to reload without needing to be told.

Captain Anderson then shouted, Number two, advance!

At this, Gabriel and the second line advanced ten yards and overtook the first line, positioning themselves five yards in front of them.

Present… Fire!

On command, they delivered a second volley and began to reload. The third line of twenty Marylanders then overtook Gabriel's line and delivered their volley. Immediately after firing a volley, each line reloaded and waited to hear their number shouted, which was the signal to advance to the front of the formation and fire. In this way, every line had a chance to load, a process that took roughly twenty seconds. One evolution occurred every time all three lines had fired. This tactic produced a constant volley of at least six aimed shots per minute from twenty muskets.

On the flanks, the sharpshooters, with their accurate Pennsylvania rifles, did their grisly job of killing British officers and sergeants while keeping up with the forward movement of the company. Directly to their front, British soldiers could be seen dropping in wounded agony, some gutshot, others shot in the chest or head, spraying blood on their comrades. As always with the British, the man in the rear rank simply stepped mechanically over the fallen man and replaced him in the front line.

Gabriel worked through the loading process with practiced efficiency. His movements, as well as those of the men in his line, were rapid and methodical. When ordered to fire, Gabriel did so deliberately and without remorse. As he repeatedly loaded, advanced, and fired, Gabriel began to take on the appearance of a battle-hardened veteran. His lips and cheeks were stained with black powder from biting the cartridges open; his hands were likewise stained. In his mouth, he tasted the bitterness of the saltpeter in the gunpowder. His nostrils flared, and his eyes stung as he struggled to breathe and see through the acrid sulfur smoke produced by the discharge of his own weapon. His ears were ringing from the concussive blast of twenty muskets firing at once.

None of this fazed Gabriel. This was normal in battle, and he was thoroughly concentrated on the task at hand. During the third evolution, Gabriel took aim at a British drummer and was pleased to see the man drop. Drummers were used as a means of communication. Since the voices of officers and sergeants often could not be heard above the din of battle, the drummer's taps or calls told British soldiers what to do next. Gabriel was glad to deny the enemy this form of communication.

The spacing of Captain Anderson's company of Marylanders greatly reduced the effectiveness of the ragged volleys the British were able to muster. The Marylanders, unlike the British, were not tightly packed. They were in staggered line formation; each man was separated by six feet of empty space, with parallel lines staged five yards apart—a formation alien to the British. Try as they might, the British returned fire, but at eighty yards, the British Brown Bess musket was notoriously inaccurate. Still, bullets whistled by Gabriel's head. This was unnerving, but not enough to distract him from his duty.

Gabriel saw two men in his company fall. One was Peter Jones, the other Josiah Martin. Gabriel knew them both. Peter was a blacksmith from Annapolis, a young lad of seventeen who left his apprenticeship to join the army. He was dedicated, eager to please, and despite his age, an excellent soldier. Josiah, a waterman from Londontown, was older, with a wife and child. He was easy to talk to, gregarious, always telling bawdy jokes and playing tricks on his fellows. He helped keep the company's morale high. Both men would be sorely missed.

Overall, in terms of pure numbers, their effect on the large British formation was negligible. No more than a hornet's sting. But it accomplished two things: it focused the British Army's attention on Gabriel's company and not on the 150 Carolina militiamen still scrambling to form up immediately behind them. And it frustrated the British efforts to form and dress their lines, thereby buying time.

All the while, the ten sharpshooters of the company (five on each flank), who had been ordered to fire at will, had great success dropping British officers. Already, British sergeants could be seen tending to these poor fellows and taking over their sections of the line. Gabriel credited the success of the sharpshooters in killing British officers with the British line's inability to fire more than two volleys. British leadership, in the front rank of their light companies, had been decimated.

Captain Anderson saw that they had fixed bayonets and were preparing to charge his company's position. Exposed as they were at the very front of the Continental Army and a mere sixty yards from British lines, Captain Anderson wisely decided it was time to go.

After the third evolution, Captain Anderson again gave several orders in quick succession. Company! By the right… Line of march… At the double-quick… March! Within ten seconds, the three loosely spaced and staggered lines of Gabriel's company had formed back into a column of march, the same way they had arrived on the battlefield. In this fashion, they quickly vacated their position. On their way out, they passed the 150-man Carolina militia unit, which was finally formed and ready. As Captain Anderson and his Marylanders passed, the militia shouted, Huzzah! Huzzah! Huzzah! apparently emboldened by what they had witnessed. They then proceeded to set loose a volley that kept the British at bay, stopping their pursuit of Gabriel's company and forcing them to form back into line again.

Captain Anderson's company had quickly appeared in front of the British, greatly surprising them and hindering their efforts to organize. They had engaged two British light companies (over twice their number). They delivered some 240 shots into the massed ranks of British infantry at close range, inflicting forty-two casualties and hampering their efforts to form for battle. Furthermore, the sharpshooters disposed of seven British officers, thereby denying the enemy leadership in their forwardmost units.

All the while, the Marylanders were screening the movements of the militia unit forming directly behind them. This had been their primary purpose—trading lives for time. This small unit had bought precious time for the militia and for the army as a whole. This could only have been accomplished by a well-drilled, well-led, and disciplined unit. Colonel Smallwood had chosen well. Gabriel would later learn that eight of his comrades had been wounded or killed by the two British volleys and that they had come as close as sixty yards from their adversaries.

Gabriel noted: We continued trailing arms at the double-quick towards the rear until we had reached the Continental Army's third line of defense. Already we could hear the exchange of volleys between the front-most militia unit and the light companies of the British Army. In what seemed like only a few minutes, we had taken our place in the main line with a contingent of Virginia Continentals on our left and the other Maryland and Delaware units to our right. My heart was pounding from the engagement and the double-quick march. Despite the cold, I could feel sweat forming on my brow and running down the back of my neck. I was not sure if this was from exertion or nerves. We could hear the British drums beating above the din of battle, but positioned as we were, on the reverse slope of a hill, we could scarcely see the enemy. This was a small price to pay in exchange for being out of reach of British cannon, which could be heard booming amidst the musketry. I found myself on the front rank of the Continental line.

Chapter 2

As he waited in line beside his men, Gabriel recalled with pride the conduct of the Maryland and Delaware regiments at the Battle of Camden in August the previous year. The colonial militia had panicked and fled, crumbling the center of the Continental line. Most of the army, including the commanding general, Major General Horatio Gates, had fled the battlefield. But the Maryland and Delaware Continental regiments, though vastly outnumbered by the British, stood their ground. In doing so, they stubbornly bought the rest of the army precious time to retreat. But they paid a terrible price for it, loosing almost half their number. Noting that colonial militia made up most of the Continental Army again on this day, Gabriel prayed that a sacrifice like the one made at Camden would not be needed. Colonial militia was notoriously unreliable and prone to panic.

Brigadier General Daniel Morgan, The Old Wagoner, as he was called, was a natural-born leader, as he had proven by coming around the campfires the night before the battle, encouraging the men. But more importantly, he had staged this battle perfectly, playing to his strengths and the enemy's weakness. First, he had chosen the place and time for the battle. Then he had deployed his forces in three separate lines of defense, each progressively stronger than the last (defense-in-depth). This would force the British to slow their advance, as they would have to deal with each line in turn, and thus be robbed of their momentum in the process.

By placing Carolina and Virginia militia in his front and asking them to fire only two volleys before withdrawing, Morgan was recreating what had occurred at the Battle of Camden. This would lead Tarleton to believe that another easy victory was at hand. It would play to Tarleton's pride, arrogance, and hubris. He