Login
|
Join PoetrySoup
Home
Submit Poems
Login
Sign Up
Member Home
My Poems
My Quotes
My Profile & Settings
My Inboxes
My Outboxes
Soup Mail
Contest Results/Status
Contests
Poems
Poets
Famous Poems
Famous Poets
Dictionary
Types of Poems
Quotes
Short Stories
Articles
Forum
Blogs
Poem of the Day
New Poems
Resources
Syllable Counter
Anthology
Grammar Check
Greeting Card Maker
Classifieds
Member Area
Member Home
My Profile and Settings
My Poems
My Quotes
My Short Stories
My Articles
My Comments Inboxes
My Comments Outboxes
Soup Mail
Poetry Contests
Contest Results/Status
Followers
Poems of Poets I Follow
Friend Builder
Soup Social
Poetry Forum
New/Upcoming Features
The Wall
Soup Facebook Page
Who is Online
Link to Us
Member Poems
Poems - Top 100 New
Poems - Top 100 All-Time
Poems - Best
Poems - by Topic
Poems - New (All)
Poems - New (PM)
Poems - New by Poet
Poems - Random
Poems - Read
Poems - Unread
Member Poets
Poets - Best New
Poets - New
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems Recent
Poets - Top 100 Community
Poets - Top 100 Contest
Famous Poems
Famous Poems - African American
Famous Poems - Best
Famous Poems - Classical
Famous Poems - English
Famous Poems - Haiku
Famous Poems - Love
Famous Poems - Short
Famous Poems - Top 100
Famous Poets
Famous Poets - Living
Famous Poets - Most Popular
Famous Poets - Top 100
Famous Poets - Best
Famous Poets - Women
Famous Poets - African American
Famous Poets - Beat
Famous Poets - Cinquain
Famous Poets - Classical
Famous Poets - English
Famous Poets - Haiku
Famous Poets - Hindi
Famous Poets - Jewish
Famous Poets - Love
Famous Poets - Metaphysical
Famous Poets - Modern
Famous Poets - Punjabi
Famous Poets - Romantic
Famous Poets - Spanish
Famous Poets - Suicidal
Famous Poets - Urdu
Famous Poets - War
Poetry Resources
Anagrams
Bible
Book Store
Character Counter
Cliché Finder
Poetry Clichés
Common Words
Copyright Information
Grammar
Grammar Checker
Homonym
Homophones
How to Write a Poem
Lyrics
Love Poem Generator
New Poetic Forms
Plagiarism Checker
Poetics
Poetry Art
Publishing
Random Word Generator
Spell Checker
Store
What is Good Poetry?
Word Counter
Email Poem
Your IP Address: 13.58.137.218
Your Email Address:
Required
Email Address Not Valid.
To Email Address:
Email Address Not Valid.
Required
Subject
Required
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem
Young Ned was only sixteen years old when they called for the militia to come again, having warred with the French for three years now, and raids had terrified the frontier towns. But Britain needed men to hold the line, and promised they’d be paid well for their time, Ned’s father was quite poor, and quite hobbled, the family farm was facing real trouble. They sent him west, and then they sent him north, to an outpost at the remote Lake George, Fort William henry, that’s what they called it, in wilderness did this new fortress sit. Just thirty miles from Fort Carillon, the great fortress the French had built of stone, between them Lake George stretched out, long and thin, a frontier both had stained with blood and sin. The Ned the fortress didn’t look like much, wood walls filled with earth, half-done and quite rough, and it seemed that the fort was built too small, outside was a camp, since they couldn’t fit all. He’d heard in the winter there’d been a fight, an attempt at siege that didn’t go right, without big cannons their force had been spent, though some boats and some outbuildings were rent. But what Ned couldn’t know, miles away French general Montcalm heard what spies did say, from London French agents had sent them word that England was striking for Louisburg. With Britain’s main army so far removed, Montcalm saw a chance that he could not loose, with naught but garrisons on the frontier, he could match their numbers, strike and bring fear. That summer outside of Carillon’s fort France built its army, eight thousand and more, two thousand Indians, drawn from the tribes, for plunder joined up and took the French side. Down the lake they came, by land and by boat, and soon appeared on the wilderness road, where young Ned was stationed, he heard the shots, with musket in hand, he raced for the spot. Saw men in the woods, in a skirmish line, using whatever cover they could find, Ned found a boulder, and there he took aim, the gun flashed but he heard no cry of pain. Panic did grip him as he reloaded, not ten feet away a fellow lay dead, he fumbled with powder, and the ramrod, his hands shaking as he prayed to his God. Up went the musket and fired once more, sparks flying out to singe the forest floor, but figures kept coming, dressed in light gray, too many men for them to drive away. CONTINUES IN PART II.
CAPTCHA Preview
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required