Site Event: Battle of Chelsea Creek

The smoke filled the air and the smell of sulfur and death overpowered Aedan’s nostrils. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t frightened, standing in the middle of his company, sword drawn and repeating the orders given by General Howard, marching towards what undoubtedly seemed like certain death. He had already seen several men run though surprisingly most of his company was still intact. Even those like the preacher, who he had long expected wouldn’t have even lasted the last small skirmish, were still in good marching order. For a brief moment, as General Howard gave his order to yell like furies, Aedan wondered what exactly the point of that would be. Wouldn’t they just waste breathe as they advanced? Or was their some purpose the young captain just wasn’t seeing? The men had only maybe a few days worth of bayonet training, so any extended hand to hand would likely flounder and fail.  But a quick charge to surprise the British?  Aedan would have liked the idea if they had several months of training.  Still, as an officer, he had to seem the most gung-ho of all his men, even when he himself had personal reservations.  



At the command of Forward, the drum beat playing its slow, methodical beat as the fife played beside it, Aedan repeated the command.  Seeing their apprehension he decided to add his own personal bravado, as many of the other officers had to as well, “You heard the general! Hollar with everything you’ve got!” He finished by adding his own war sound, one his father had taught him long ago, a long, drawn out “Arrrrrriiiibaaa!” While most his men did not speak Spanish they understood the purpose of his shout well enough and soon each man added in shouts and hollering of their own, beginning to march forward. With over a thousand men lending their voices, the shout became a great cacophony of noise and ferocity that seemed to drown out the sounds of battle. That’s when it hit him. The shouting and hollering would not only intimidate the enemy… It would strengthen the heart of every man around it. Like the ancient Celts of old charging against the much better armed and trained Roman Legionaries, the rebels here were out trained and facing the might of a massive empire. But they had their voices, they had their spirit and morale was rising ever higher as they advanced towards the frontlines. Would they remain once bayonets met and blood began to spill in earnest? Only time would tell. In the meantime the Southern Brigade continued to howl like madmen going about the insane task of turning the tide of battle.

Danny felt a swell of joy when the General granted her request, she would much rather run around the hills and watch the enemy than shoot at him or partake in a bayonet charge, but it soon passed when Howe gave her his advice. Friend? she thought. All of my lads are back in Boston. Or dead. She searched hurriedly around once the General had moved on, and her eye suddenly caught a young ensign carrying his company colours, he seemed terribly familiar, despite the black powder and red flush covering his face. Norris! It was Ensign Ronald Norris, she had danced with him at the ball not two weeks ago!

With a split second decision she ran over to the Lieutenant in command of Norris' squad and shouted over the din of musketry "Ah'm looking fer Ensign Norris! orders from Howe!" The man blinked in confusion, but pointed all the same at his standard-bearer. Danny nodded and grabbed the lad before he could join the bayonet charge, "Ensign! Pass your colours off! And come with me! special orders from Howe!"


Danny turned and began to run without looking to see if the lad would follow, skirting around the troops and heading for the treeline that lay alongside their path, if she could follow those, she may be able to remain unseen from the colonist fighters for longer. Of course, there was always the chance the colonists had decided the trees were the safest place to fire at the British troops and she was running straight into their lines. Either way, General Howe would know where they were. She would make sure of that.

William fired his musket, after he reloaded the damned thing. He could see his ball hit a British soldier, who immediately after fell into the sand everything from his waist down still in the water. Then the Brits charged. William swung the musket over his back, and took his sabre from it's hilt.

"CHAARGE", he shouted on the last moment, and most of the Company ran with him to the soldiers clad in red uniforms. William raised his sabre, and struck it down again, hitting a man in the head. Then he proceeded to stab another. He quickly found himself surrounded by Redcoats, though, and several of his men were retreating. Of course. He could have expected nothing less from a rag-tag band of men, who had received no training like the British.

Several of his men remained, though, and they helped William break through the lines again, to once again be with the bluecoats. William blocked a bayonet that was flung in his direction, and stabbed the owner in the chest.

Then he saw their Captain. William rallied a Sergeant, and a handful of his men, and attacked the Captain, while his men guarded them.

the fight was hard, and William received a blow to his arm, from which blood was seeping through his blue coat. A dark red spot could be seen around the lash. William managed to disarm the Captain, though. The British Captain surrendered, and William and his men then proceeded back to their lines with relative ease.

They had captured an enemy officer, and his men were running. A ragtag Company had actually managed to hold against a trained British company of Line Infantry. This was a feat to be celebrated. The fight was not over, though, and William quickly made a mental note of the persons of his company that had run, like the cowards they were.

Smoke and heat rolled across the battleground like tobacco smoke puffed from an old man's pipe. Except the field was the pocked face of the old man, and the muskets were the pipe. Danny was glad to reach the relative coolness of the treeline, but did not let the relief cloud her senses or judgement. She crouched just on the outskirts beside a sumac bush and squinted in as far as her adjusting eyes would let her. No patriot blue greeted her, nor did any musket barrels. All the same, she pulled her musket off her back and held it close to her chest. 

The young Ensign Norris caught up to her like a whirlwind and immediately began raining questions down upon her head, she flinched at his loud cadence and flinched again when he fired his pistol at an American that had been running across the field a little too close to their position. Grabbing the lad by his arm, she pulled him down to sit beside her and slapped a hand across his mouth to shut him up. "Hush ye bloody great fool, they could be right in the trees here! If they didnae ken where we were before, they bloody well might now!" She hissed at him, suddenly regretting having to take a partner along on her little excursion. "Ah've got orders from Howe and Gage tae scout ahead and find where the rebels are planning their attacks from and where they're concentrated the most. I need yae tae be my runner, understand?" 

With that, Danny became crawling her way into the undergrowth, the lad was not wrong about finding higher ground, but she preferred to find it in amongst the trees for better cover. The best of both worlds. Once through the thickest of the bushes, she was able to straighten and get better bearings, to the left there was nothing but more trees, but to the right she could hear the familiar sound of guns discharging and men shouting to each other. instead of heading directly for the sounds, she continued on her straight path for a hundred feet or so, and then turned back to the sounds, hoping to come up behind the men and continue on past their lines. 

When they did get closer, she was surprised to find a young lad all by himself firing into the field. She had no time nor power to take him prisoner, so her musket came up to her shoulder and her finger rested on the trigger. It was not common sense that stayed her hand, but she pulled up the weapon all the same. Why kill the lad? he was too young to be on a battlefield and too alone to make it a fair fight. she would take his weapon instead and maybe knock him out to be sure he would not tell his comrades. She slung the musket over her shoulder again and brought out the long dirk kept tucked in her boot. coming up behind the lad she lay it across his throat and said gruffly "Drop the gun now, lad, and yae may walk away frae this day."

On the other side of the island, the HMS Diana was answering broadside for artillery fire. So far, it looked like the British forces were winning. Howe had the rebels on the run. As the helmsman of the Diana navigated closer to the island, there was the unmistakable and sickening sound of the keel scraping against mud and rocks. All hands jumped into action to try and maneuver her back into deeper water, but to no avail. The order to abandon ship was given along with instructions to take everything of use that could be carried.

Howe called for the troops to regroup before continuing the advance. He felt confident he could push the rebels from one end of the island to the other with minimal casualties. The general rode beside his troops keeping a watchful eye on the horizon. Fields and hay barns were left smoldering and all the livestock were gone. Howe could tell that no matter who won the battle, it would take a long time before the farms ever truly recovered.