2012 Tentative Schedule of Events Up and Running

Ring in the 2012 Revolutionary War Season!

The tentative schedule of events for the 2012 season is up and rolling. I still have a few blank dates to fill but  if you see anything missing or know of any dates that are different, please drop me a comment. While scouting around event by event, I happen to come up on 2012 lists from other groups we know. You might want to consult with these as well to see what other things are  happening in the areas.

This be us :o) :      http://www.sycamoreshoalstn.org/Special%20Events%202012.htm    Please note the Friends meetings once a month on Thursdays.

Our friends, the SC Rangers :       http://www.scrangers.com/

The Jaegers:                                     http://www.jaegerkorps.org/Schedule2012b.html

A Reenactor’s Reenactor: Carol Jarboe

MAGGIE DELANEY (Carol Jarboe)

During the Fall event at Martin’s Station, I had the pleasure of listening to Parson John Jarboe deliver an 18th century sermon for the first time . Let me tell you, it blew me away. I saw Maggie there but she was busy talking to so many, and  I didn’t have the heart to interrupt. At the So. Eastern Primitive, though, I had the distinct pleasure  of meeting and talking to Maggie Delaney, aka Carol Jarboe, and it was a wonderful treat! I know this will make her blush, but, to me, it was an honor because she embodies all that we hope to do in our hobby which is to portray a character or type to the point where people think you really are the character and to do it in such a way that it becomes a teachable moment.   To me, she is the consumate reenactor  and educator and one I hope to be like when I grow up.

During the course of doing this blog, I met Carol online . We’ve had a bit of a correspondence which is a  trick as Maggie writes in brogue and it’s all I can do to rub my stomach and pat my head, so to speak,  in replying to her in kind. Fortunately, I’ve had my stint in southern Ireland to draw from, but she beats all I ever have seen for getting the nuances like someone who just left the land of the Giant’s Causeway.

Nothing beat meeting her in person, though. To see her is to see the poorest of the poor. As she loped behind the Parson, her benign master, I  was carried back a few hundred years and it took my breath away. She was in rags, and I mean Rags; her smile did nothing to hide the teeth which showed the neglect of the time (and made me wonder how in Hades she managed to talk with the prosthetic device she slipped over her own ivories). Her skin was discolored with dirt and weather beaten, hair in wisps. What struck me was the warmth and kindness of her expression, the secondary undertones of  her body language, her twinkling eyes, the sunshine that seemed to radiate from her, the sanity of her character, the subtle wit which compelled her to offer an apple , half eaten, that the worms  seemed to have left alone. I had to laugh; only Maggie could have pulled all this off and I had to continually remind myself that this lowly washerwoman was in fact from our time, from  our place.

She is everyone’s dream; a reenactor who steps into character and never is distracted from it. It’s real and right and if she was Carol all of a sudden, that would strike a false note. The hardest thing in the world is to be a first person reenactor and she does it with consumate skill. She never veers and even when she talks about her character; it’s done in first person, totally believable and tremendously researched.

When I chose my alter ego, it was at the end of a lot of reading though census  records and journals, hours spent at the Palmer Center at the library and on line. I, like Carol, wanted to give a face to the people who had to farm themselves out to pay for passage, pay off debts, start fresh, fend off sadness, disappointment, starvation and find a life the best they could. These were the people without a name; people, individually,  who barely made a whits- difference but whose cumulative efforts built a nation. I cannot begin to portray my character the way Carol does hers, effortlessly, artlessly, brilliantly.  I can only hope, someday,  to do it with the grace and charm of Maggie Delaney, the North Star for first person reenactors. Thanks, Maggie; thanks, Carol.

PS I  stole Maggie’s picture from Facebook (I hope you don’t mind)/ Please check out her website and also her story.

http://www.parsonjohn.org/maggie.html

 

 

Rendevousing it; Observations on 18th Century Living

As I am sitting here thinking about it, the South Eastern Primitive is in full swing in Yakinsville, NC. It was a beautiful weekend this past for my time there and Mikey is still at it and will be there until closing. While I was there, I helped him put up the shower privy behind our tent, smack daub in the middle of the dried up lake, as was, when it rained on Friday. Sounds pretty logical to me as the water has a place to go and it’s muddy there already. He’s one of the few to have this convenience and,  let me tell you, it’s a needful thing if one is staying for more than a day. Sherry , Dave and  Doug Walsh came up for the weekend too and we crammed up pretty comfy in the new wedge. Norma and Bob are there as well for the whole time  and,  while we were talking, Norma made the comment that people who go to these events are ones who probably would have loved to have lived in another time. This got me to thinking about a lot of things.

Rendevous are so different that reenactments at a historical site. It’s more free flow, more accepting of historical interpretations rather than historical accuracy. You have to admit , though, in spite of stitch counting and those who think authentic is authentic, we still fall prey to 21st century attitudes and addictions, and I don’t care who you are.  Primitives, though, really remind me of camping ala rough while wearing funny clothes. One of the things I had to deal with while I was at the Primitive was precisely the lack of shower and the results of everyone being in the same situation. When we have a muster, we can rely on those wonderful modern conveniences like a full bathroom. The smell of Dial soap is pretty pleasant and flush toilets are a modern joy. This past weekend, I was brushing my teeth double time as that was the one thing I knew I could get clean! If I was going to smell like cat poo, at least I would have sweet breath! Even at those events that have none of the modern accoutrements, one can still find a toilet or Blue Spring somewhere close. As it was, I was catching full whiffs of the scuzz-funk that seemed to envelope all, including me (most of all, I think), and I was reminded of Elizabeth the Great who held a cloved orange to her nose for most of her life becasue she couldn’t stand the smells she was bombarded with. Then I happened to think of what she said about baths; to whit, she only bathed once a month, whether she needed it or not.

The smell of smoke penetrates everything and,  while a little goes a long way, at times I wished for my modern stove and oven as I was dodging the smoke burning my eyes and nostrils. Camping in 30 degree weather is also meant to remind me about how thankful I am of heaters and blankets, mummy bags, fleece and thermal underwear- oh , the warmth of it! It makes one appreciate the hardy toughness of those who slept on straw and thought they had died and gone to Heaven.

The feel of linen, wool and silk socks is also very nice, especially when you think how rough the material was that the hoi paloi wore against their skins. This is assuming they had anything to cover their nekkidness other than some worn out rags they were able to piece together once in a while. I had a pair of indigo dyed blue silk socks under a pair of cashmere socks- felt dang good. When I got home, though, and peeled this off, my legs and feet were blue and I thought I had circulatory problems until I realized it was the indigo. Can you imagine the color schemes of people’s skins back in the day? Of course, I’m sure they could go to the tub and wash it , the dirt and the scuzz-funk  all off with modern soap, right?

We had all our food in coolers; Mike made filet mignon on Saturday night. It’s no accident that the French came up with all the incredible sauces they did to hide the turning meat and offal they had to eat. Now we call it gourmet; back then it was viands to keep the body going.

When I think about it, we play at being 18th century folk in a 21st century time. When I thought about stripping away all the modern things I had with me (though well hidden), I thought seriously of how there would have been no way in Hades I could have survived without them. It really makes one appreciate the modern, for sure , and appreciate those who had to make do with the hardships and inconveniences because that was just the way it was. The  short of it is, I honor those who lived then but am glad I can go back home to my nice warm, electrified house and watch TV.

Check it out; they have their own Webpage!     http://www.southeasternprimitiverendezvous.com/

 

Major Bogart Reports: Not Dying at Walnut Grove (pun intended) October 1, 2011

Washington Co Militia presence at Walnut GroveBrits at Walnut Grove

Report from Walnut Grove

The event at Walnut Grove Plantation was one marked by
beautiful weather and even better fellowship. Most all of our group that
planned to camp had arrived by 1:00
Friday and soon we had encircled a nice oak tree beside of the plantation
smoke-house. We shared our little section of the plantation grounds with the
South Carolina Rangers, The Colonial Ladies Society, and The Carolina Indian
Traders. Our little camp consisted of John Cornett, Chris Taylor, Kathryn
Grist, Randy & Sterling Curde, and me. After setting up camp and getting
changed, the sight provided a delightful candlelit meal of smoked pork,
coleslaw, macaroni and cheese, baked beans, and a delicious fresh apple
cobbler. Following supper Randy left to pick up Sterling from football practice while the
rest of us participated in the evening lantern light tours. Kathryn and some of
the camp ladies told of women’s duties in the South Carolina backcountry while John,
Chris, and I took on the characters of Andrew Taylor, Isaac Taylor, and Landon
Carter respectively and told of their involvement with Francis Marion (the
Swamp Fox) after the battle of King’s Mountain. After the tours we settled in
to camp and commenced with some fine storytelling and laughs. Despite feeling
poorly, Randy kept the wisecracks flowing.

Saturday morning brought chilly temperatures and those who
had planned to day-trip to the event began to arrive. Those were Ken and Retha
Reece, Doug Walsh, and Worley, Lisa, & Rachel Bennett bringing our total
attendance up to 12. The sight was crawling with visitors and a myriad of
period activities and skills were being demonstrated. 12:00 noon
saw the re-enactment of “Bloody Bill’s” raid on the Moore House. Sterling was the first to
get in on the action as he warned the Moore
family that British troops and Tories were approaching. Bloody Bill Cunningham
came up and assaulted Mrs. Moore on her own front porch and then went upstairs
where he murdered the convalescing Captain Steadman in cold blood. Two of
Steadman’s men were shot in the yard as Kathryn warned the rest of the family
and farmhands that Capt. Steadman was dead and that Bloody Bill aimed to fire
the house and barns. The British took a position to the southeast of the house
where they began to engage the 2^nd North and South Carolina
Continentals. Our division was placed in support of the South Carolina Rangers
as we slipped around the back of the house and caught the British line on their
right flank. The Jaegers and Highlanders came about and we were soon exchanging
volley for volley as we took cover in the boxwood garden to the east of the
house as the extreme left flank of the American line. The entire British line
began to break and we once again joined the Rangers with the main line. After
fierce independent fire we lost Private Walsh to a close volley by the
Highlanders. It appeared that the Highlanders were beginning to rally as they
mounted a bayonet charge directed to our portion of the line, but we soon had
them falling back as we answered with a crashing volley directly into their
ranks. The whole patriot line began to advance and we pressed the enemy clean
off the field. It was a glorious victory for the patriot cause paid for with
the blood of several good men including Mr. Walsh.

After a brief rest we were once again preparing for war as 2:00 approached and a battle
demonstration ensued. We were recreating a troop movement to Spartanburg with the baggage handlers in
front, militia next in no formal order, and the continentals in the rear.  As we strolled down the road approaching the Moore house Captain Taylor and I sang a jaunty verse of “The Girl I Left Behind Me”. Soon the
softness of the day was turned upside down as we were ambushed by a crashing
volley from the British Line as they rose from the boxwood lined walkway in
front of the Moore House. Caught totally by surprise half of the militia
panicked, so it seemed like a lifetime before we could form a proper line of
battle. Men were falling all around us, first Mr. Thompson of the SC Rangers, and
then Mr. Bennett of our own company. Lt. Reece and I both misfired at the same
time and the next thing I knew I was on the ground with the entire line falling
back. I cried out, “Don’t leave me”, as Randy came back and helped me off the
field. I shall be forever indebted to him.

After the 12:00 battle we were permitted to form our companies independently, parade in front
of the crowd and introduce ourselves. This prompted one of the best things
about the entire weekend. After we came back to camp a young man named Tim
Hyder introduced himself and said that he couldn’t believe that a group from
Sycamore Shoals was there. He was originally from California, was studying in Columbia, SC,
and had ancestors from Sycamore Shoals and Washington Co. NC. His ancestor was
Michael Hyder, of whom our very own Nat Hyder claims kin. It was uncanny to see
this tall thin guy the same build as Nat and Nathaniel. Tim was ecstatic and
told us that he planned to visit Elizabethton. Ken Reece made his day as he
dressed him up with coat, hat, bag, horn, and rifle and let his friends take
some photos of him in front of our flag. A fine evening was highlighted by a
beefsteak supper with fried potatoes & onions, and grilled summer squash.
Everyone pooled their vittles together and Kathryn & I served as camp cooks.
Again stories and laughter lasted well into the night.

Sunday proved to be just as beautiful as the day before and
was begun with a fine impromptu church service led by our neighbor across the
way, Bobby Blackwell of the Carolina Indian Traders. The skirmish was held at 1:30 and was a repeat of the Bloody
Bill’s raid. 3:00 saw everyone breaking camp and by 5:00
The Washington County Militia was headed back to Sycamore Shoals. Special
recognition is given to Captain Taylor, Lieutenant Reece and the Mountain
Company as they held the majority of members present. Huzza!

Respectfully submitted 4^th October 2011

Your Humble Servant

Major Bogart

Cave Springs Settlement

MOLLYNOTE: Thanks to Retha Reece for the photos. If you go to Facebook, Randy Curde, Retha Reece, Katherine Gist and Doug Walsh have spectacular photos of all our events. Check them out.

Not Dying at Walnut Grove

My Stuff- Your Junk…. The Great Island Trade Fair, Fort Loudon, TN

Hey Dude, button up your fly!

The trade faire at Fort Loudon in Vonore, TN, is this weekend and as much as I want to go, I’m not going to. While I would really love to see (and maybe participate in) the skirmishes and see (and maybe participate with if I ever get off my lazy butt and get juried) the reenactors doing their thing, I’m almost afraid to go.

This summer, in 100 degree heat,  I inventoried and rearranged our  “stuff”; those of you who have been in reenacting for a while know exactly what stuff I’m referring to. It’s all those things that seemed like a good idea at the time, terrific deals on a blanket or inside a sutler’s stall, which now are gathering dust or haven’t been used in a while. George Carlin had it right- sometimes “stuff” grows and a house, or in this case, a tent or fly, is nothing more than a cover for one’s “stuff”. What he doens’t say in this clip is that things that belong to you is your “stuff”,but when those same things belong to someone else, somehow it morphs into  “junk” as in “their junk”. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0L3CXTHElwY&feature=related

I figure if I go to the Trade Faire there will be blanket sales galore. I know I will find someone else’s junk laying there and that junk, with a bit of judicious dickering will become part of my hillock of stuff. I know if I go to the trade faire, I’m going to to a happy dance when I find some treasure I can’t live without UNTIL I go to lug it to an event in 95 degree heat.  If I bump into Peggy and Dennis Earp, I know I will drop a hundred dollar bill easy in buying cloth to add to the stash I’m desperately trying to thin out. Do I need another pair of silk stockings, another dutch oven, a period mug? Why do I sometimes feel like Job sitting on top of a dungheap? I promised myself diligently when I started on this road those many moons ago that I would buy or make the best and the most correct  once and get only what I need. Over all, I have to say I’ve stuck to that but I have to admit to some pretty wild impulse buying or trading sprees. The thing is what does one need as opposed to what does one want? One thing for sure, Mikey and I simplified our lives considerably by selling the wall tent with all those little pain- in- the- bum poles and stakes for a wedge with a bell. That’s the plus side; the not so plus is that we went from a 18 to a 20′ fly (got to entertain our friends in shaded comfort and protect from nasty weather! Yeah sure, another, slightly bigger “roof” for our stuff???) Oh , stop laughing!!! I keep justifying that by thinking at least it’s in one continuous piece rather than two sewn together and with a side which detaches.

If I go to Vonores this weekend, I can see me hauling some kind of weird contraption home like a metal thingie that sits on the ground in which to build a fire instead of digging a fire pit. I can see me buying an 18th century Bible (every day closer to my birthday, I get “closer my God to thee….”, or a journal which I desperately need in order to take notes about events I go to so I can report about them in this blog. It’s hell having senior moments which are coming more and more frequently. Maybe if I go, I’ll find the PERFECT three pronged fork instead of that stupid so- called period fork and knife with the bone handles ( 2 sets) that I have! I frankly don’t know anyone who can possibly be comfy with a fork whose tongs are so wide apart that you could pitch hay with it or a knife whose blade is so wide , you could smear peanut butter on a whole slice of bread ,side to side, in one fell stroke. I used them once and stuck to a spoon or my fingers forever more. The one thing I love which I’ll never give up are my pewter plates but I had those way before I started dressing in rags with a bell around my neck. Maybe if I go to the trade faire I’ll find the best and most perfect stoneware pie plate. The fact that I have one doesn’t count. I need one that is shallow, not deep. Need-want, need-want….junk, stuff…..

Maybe I won’t go to Vonores this weekend and keep my money in my pocket and splurge on a gun. I really need another gun, right?

Oh lead me not into temptation, but deliver me from impulse shopping and the snares of talking myself into why I need all this stuff…….simplify, simplify!!!

Blue Ridge Parkway’s Overmountain Victory Trail Event in September

I recieved this letter tonight and thought some of the members would find it interesting. I think their event is on the same weekend as our muster but to be sure, just check the link above (the 2011 events calendar) and see for yourself.

Blue Ridge Parkway-Gillespie Gap

214
Parkway Maintenance Rd.

Spruce Pine,North Carolina28777

 

Phone
(828)-765-1228

Fax#
(828)-765-0974

Jonathan_Bennett@nps.gov

 

 

 

Dear Sir or
Madam,

 

Greetings!
The Blue Ridge Parkway is currently planning its 20th annual Overmountain Victory Celebration.  The event tells the epic story of the
Overmountain men and honors their contributions in turning the tide of the
American Revolution in the South.  This
year marks the 231^st  anniversary of their historic march to King’s
Mountain, S.C.  Our event will be held Sept. 15-18, 2011.

 

You are
cordially invited to take part in this event.

 

On Thursday and
Friday, from 9 am to 2 pm, public schools are invited to participate.
School groups of around 20 students rotate from station to station throughout
the day.  Activities for students
include: Revolutionary War Games, storytelling, watching demonstrations of a
particular skill, and even making their own souvenirs to take home.  However, the demand among local schools to
attend the Overmountain Victory Celebration is often so high that we have been
forced to turn away hundreds of children school in the past.  We need your help to ensure that no one is
turned away from this year’s event!

 

The
Revolutionary War encampment will be open to the general public from Friday
evening, Sept. 16th, through Sunday morning, Sept. 18th.   Saturday will also be our official home school
day and we’re expecting larger crowds on the Saturday portion of the event than
we have had in the past because of this.
On Friday and Saturday evenings, Candlelight Tours are conducted of the
encampment with re-enactors recreating important events of the march.  There are also a variety of activities during
the day on Saturday and Sunday morning.

 

Some specifics
concerning the event:

 

n  The event is located near the Blue Ridge Parkway
(Milepost 331) where it intersects with US 226 at Gillespie Gap. The activities
are held on the site of the Museum of North Carolina Minerals, near Spruce
Pine, N.C.   Gillespie Gap is also the point where the
Overmountain National Historic Trail crosses the Blue Ridge Parkway.  Please contact us if you need directions.

 

n  Some of the activities and demonstrations
we have had in the past include:  quill
writing, cartridge rolling, gun smithing, weaving, spinning, and candle making.  There is always room for more!

 

n  The Parkway has received a small grant which will allow us
to provide some hotel space for our re-enactors and volunteers. We will need a
3 week advance notice to reserve a room and re-enactors with health issues will
get priority for those rooms. Please note that we have an important change
in our hotel reservation process this year.
The hotel reservations will be made by the Blue Ridge Parkway
headquarters and only the rooms that park headquarters reserves will be paid
for by the grant we received.  So please
do not reserve a hotel room yourself because we will be unable to reimburse you
for the cost. 

 

n  Many re-enactors prefer to camp at the
event site, a large grassy field in front of the Minerals Museum.  Restrooms are available in the museum within
yards of the campsite.  Shower facilities
are available in the maintenance area on the hill above.

 

n  A continental breakfast and lunch are
provided Thursday morning through Sunday morning.  On Saturday evening, the Park Service
provides a sit-down, “banquet style” dinner.
Snacks are available in the museum throughout the day.  If you have special dietary needs, let us
know, and we will accommodate you as best we can.

 

n  The Park Service provides firewood,
straw, water and some other amenities.
Some supplies can be provided for demonstrations; please contact us to
discuss this.

 

I am contacting
you regarding your interest in participating in this event. Attendance at our
event grows each year, and we are eager to provide more activities for the
public and for our local school children.   If
you would like to participate or would simply like to receive more
information about it, please contact me at (828) 765-1228 or by e-mail at Jonathan_Bennett@nps.gov.

 

Please let me know
if you will attend as a re-enactor by the second week of August, so that we
will know how many school groups we can accommodate.  Also, please let me
know if you will need lodging arrangements or supplies.   We take pride in helping our volunteers and
historical re-enactors in anyway that we can.
If you know someone else that may be interested in participating in this
event, please feel free to pass on this information to them as well. We would
love to have them.

 

I look forward
to hearing from you soon.

 

Your Servant,

 

 

Jonathan Howard
Bennett

Interpretive National
Park Ranger

Blue Ridge Parkway

Gillespie Gap

828-765-1228

Jonathan_Bennett@nps.gov

 

Seige at Fort Southwest Point, Kingston, TN, June 4-5, 2011

Fort Southwest Point, Kingston , TN

I never heard of Fort Southwest Point, though I’ve been to Kingston, TN years ago and by the exit many times on the way to elsewhere. Looking at Smoke and Fire finding events close by to go to, Mike and I spotted this event some months ago and decided to day trip it.

What a sweet place! It’s a wooden star fort, nestled on the overlook at the join of the Tennessee and Clinch Rivers. In 1792, General John Sevier created his headquarters here and built the stockade and blockhouse. The fort itself  was built at that exact site in 1797 as a way station for settlers traveling west and an Indian agency. At its peak, there were over 600 Federal troops under the command of Col. David Henley. Their role was a dual one: protect the area from attack and keep the settlers out of Cherokee settlements. In 1802, command was assumed by Col. Return J. Meigs, reputed to be a very fair man and outstanding commander,  who acted both as  an Indian agent and an agent of the Dept. of  War for the government. He was instrumental in purchasing Cherokee land, and providing goods to the Cherokee and other tribes. Military operations were transfered to the  Hiwassee garrison and the fort was decomissioned by 1811.

In 1974, archeological digs  overseen by the University of Tennessee were started and still continue today. The outpost was built on existing foundations and is still a work in progress. What I found impressive is that this place is owned by the City of Kingston with no outside financial assistance from the federal or state park services and all the building has been done by local volunteers using , in many instances , their own money for materials.

The Roane County Chapter of the SOR sponsored the 2nd Annual Trade Faire this past weekend at the fort and while it was a small event, it was a lot of fun. There was a fair representation of people in the shade outside the stockade walls. Mike and I went on Saturday morning and the organizers said we could set up our demos (Mike leather sewing on his leather clamp, me making a pine needle basket, weaving ) on the porch of the officers’ quarters. The two really interesting buildings they have built so far is the barracks (soldiers on one side, officers on the other divided by a common fire place) and the blockhouse. There is a blacksmith shop being built close by in the same location as it was back when the fort was in use. Next to where we were set up are three digs (magazine, supply and another building as yet to be determined). As hot as it was, there was a nice breeze blowing from the river and there were a good number of public curious and asking questions.

Down below there was a big tent with music and games for the kids (let’s fire a flintlock pistol and see how high you can jump when it fires!) and the Daughters of the Revolution supplied an endless array of homemade cookies and coffee to anyone who wanted them. We met some fantastic people there; David Whaley who knew a number of Regiment members , the Cherokee from Georgia and his family, and everyone who was there was terrific.

At 2 PM, Mike Dahl entertained the crowd with the history of the fort and the skirmish caused by some forked tongue diplomacy on the part of the Federals. The militia fought the Cherokee (all two of them) and in the end, there was a pow-wow and an uneasy truce. The group has an 8 pounder that gave a whole new meaning to the word “BOOM”. They pack it with a POUND of black powder and on top of that, pack it with a like amount of flour. When it shoots, it’s FIREWORKS!

At 4 PM, the event was over for the day and there was such a marvelous peace in the place, the breeze, the view of the river, quiet conversation, and the shade of the blockhouse. It was hard to leave.

If you have a chance to go next year, it’s an easy run up Rt 40 to Kingston and the fort is 1 1/2 miles off the exit. I know we’ve already decided to go next year.

Check out their website. Also I posted photos I took in a Webshot album. Take a look.

Chad and Ronnie's baby is going to grow up to be a big boy like this.

  http://www.southwestpoint.com/index.html

Seige at the Blockhouse: Resounding Success May 28-29, 2011

Impressive boom at the night raid

The Seige at the Blockhouse at Natural Tunnel Bridge  near Duffield, VA, was this past weekend. That site must be one of the most beautiful places to be as the view from the blockhouse is unbelievable and even on a hot day, the breeze keeps one fairly comfortable even when it’s 90 degrees.

 

I was unable to go on Saturday but from what I heard on Sunday, the day and night raids  were very exciting. The group had its first ever auction and it raised around $500, not a bad first effort. Sunday was beautiful and continued with a frontier trial for a thievin’ murderer who shot a white woman in the back. The fact that this woman was living with a native precipitated a lot of argument as to whether the fella was getting rid of a varmint or murdering a white settler. Ultimately the judges who were described as  crosses  between a varmint and a scum suckin’ bottom dweller pronounced sentence as death by hangin’ but the killer made a run for it and was riddled with lead and his low life attorney was chased out of  Fincastle County. On top of all this excitement, there was a wonderful frontier service and cooking and spinning demos for the public. It’s a sweet event and if you’ve not gone, make plans to go as it’s well worth it.

 

Chad recieved a letter from Joy Nihil thanking the members of the Regiment for helping to make their event a success.

 

Dear friends – You did it again!  Our Siege at the Blockhouse would not have been possible without you and the group who came with you and participated.  Visitors’ comments were unfailingly favorable and the rewritten scenario came off as though you had performed it many times.  Please extend our gratitude to your entire group.  Partnerships such as ours allow small groups to accomplish big things.     Joy Nihil, President DBWTA

Country Dancing

New Pictures in Webshots

I uploaded a bunch of pictures from Mike and some from Randy as well as my own in Webshots of Guilford Courthouse. Check them out.

2011 Battle of Guilford Courthouse: A Hundred Man March Minus a Little

I couldn’t sleep Friday night for thinking about what was about to happen on Saturday, March 12 and Sunday, March 13 at the Reenactment of the Battle of Guilford Courthouse. It was cold but at 3:30 AM, I got up, went to the Blue Springs, dressed in my battle clothes, laid back down  and waited. Last year, I was Molly Spyder, your humble servant, indentured, who followed the men, read the drama in their faces and in the tenseness of their bodies as they marched up to their doom. The  thought passed through my mind that I wanted some of  this action.  A chance remark from Commander McCroskey saying he wanted to see a hundred men out on the field, me saying that I’d even wear a binder if I could fight, and him showing me documentation that, indeed,  women did and can fight as it happened during the time,  made donning britches and taking up a musket a  reality for me this year.  As I was laying on my cot early  Saturday morning, I kept thinking about the instructions Mike gave me, the commands I had to follow . I was nervous about handling a musket for real, my mind kept wandering over the fact that people really died here and that this battle in this place was THE pivotal battle in the Southern Theater that made Corwallis’s defeat at Yorktown a reality. This was no fantasy, no X-Box game,  and that we were actually living a bit of history. The moon was a quarter and, in the dimness of the moonlight,  if one had a vivid imagination, ghosts were rising like a miasma from the campfire smoke that drifted across the field.

Saturday broke clear and crisp; there was plenty of banter and activity at camp.

Getting ready for the day

The men were rolling cartridges or cooking, the officers were at meetings, and I was figuring out how to look mean and ready for war. It was a bit of doing, let me tell you but made better when I saw how many women actually donned men’s uniforms and were doing what I was doing. Througout the morning, there was good natured talk about how this newbie was going to be on the line and how a monster was being unleashed. Time was spent on what to call me and they settled on  Ray ( “You can call me Ray, or you can call me Jay, or you can call me Johnny or you can call me Sonny, or you can call me RayJay, or you can call me RJ… but ya doesn’t hafta call me Johnson. ” BILL  SALUGA )  The fellows also offered fashion advice  and I went on a shopping spree. Godsey had clothes he couldn’t sell because they were too small or miscut so it was like a sale day at Macy’s and I came out with a complete set of man-clothes for a fraction of the cost. What was funny was the comments from the men like ” I like the blue great coat on you; the other one fades you out”. Fades me out???? You guys actually pay attention to this? What is this , the Ray-bow Colition???  I did get a royal blue great coat like Ronnie’s in the picture above; I looked  like a mini- Ronnie and called  myself “Mini Me”  (Dr. Evil:  “Mini Me? Mini Me? Could someone put a freakin’  bell on (her) or something?” Austin Powers. Note: Been there, doing that! :o)   )  Jacob also got a new green frock, looking pretty handsome, Earl got measured for a new coat  and Mike is sporting a new look too. I wasn’t the only one who sported some habedashery.
Anyway….

Ronnie and me???

The Regiment   formed the largest group on the field and teaming up with the Virginia Militia, we were a force to be reckoned with and totally impressive as we splayed across the field . The Washington County Regiment  responded to the call to arms in an unbelievable way. Every able bodied man, boy (and me) showed up. Randy Curde estimated that there was at least 20 dressed, maybe more and we picked up five from the Virginia Militia. The original North Carolina Regiment was estimated at  a little over a thousand. We weren’t doing so bad at half a hundred. How this translated was the boom effect. With all this fire power, the battle had to be the best yet.

I heard the number 42, comprising both groups. I suspect it was more… When we formed for inspection Saturday , the knot in my stomach was the size of  an orange; I was hoping I wouldn’t  disgrace myself, misstep, or otherwise make a fool of myself or the Regiment. Such was not the case, however. Chris Taylor generously lent me his Brown Bess which was a  good break for me as that is the same musket I trained on earlier in the week. Mike left to go onto the field so my security blanket wasn’t on the line but I followed all the directions to the letter and,  as we marched up the hill in formation counting the cadence, I could feel the fear and excitement as a real being, thrilling my whole body. When we entered into the woods, the knot was as big as a grapefruit and I was breathing  hard from excitement. My panties were even in a wad !!! 

Finally, it was time and let me tell you, there is nothing more scary than seeing those red- coats with the white bulls-eyes in the trees. Commander McCroskey was vigilant and hovered to make sure his men were all right. Cannon was blaring, and at the charge, Chad was barking orders- ready, steady, load, FIRE!!! Oh MY GAWD!!!!! I was so scared! They were coming; will I die? Will I get caught? Will my gun misfire? Mike stood close, whispering  direction and watching out for me. I fired off about 10 shots when my flint cracked in half on the field. Not too bad for a beginner but darned bad luck, nonetheless ! The commander from Virginia wanted some men to go down and Earl knew I had a dilemma so he told me to hit the dirt since my musket was useless. When it was time, four of us heard the direction “DOWN” and I flopped over on my side.

Dead and Dying at Guilford

Do you know how HARD it is to lay in the grass with the bugs crawling on your face and itching to scratch but can’t move? I kept one eye open and watched the Continentals  and British running over us, literally. One fellow stepped on my fingers, his leader telling them to “watch the dead..” Kim said a dragoon’s horse was inches from me- what a thrill…. and indeed, upon resurrection, it was the most thrilling afternoon I can remember in a long time.

Just call me Private Ato!

Sunday was more of the same but better! Mike’s legs were hurting so he watched the camp but he let me borrow his belt and accessories. The men dressed me up, reminding me of boys playing with a GI Joe, getting the uniform on him just right (“Put that belt buckle over to the center…Now when you run out of cartridges, sling your box over to your back and go for the belt box…” )  The battle that afternoon was even better than Saturday as the plans were more elaborate. I replaced Chris’s flint, bought a pick and brush and a screw tool thing to tighten the screw at the top and  I used these tools, too. We took out positions in the woods, ready to fight in the exact place where the militia had fought two- hundred- thirty years before. I think everyone was at the ready, intensely alert and on edge. Because of that, though, when the Brits had the misfortune of having to pass us to go to their positions, we pounded them with good natured banter ( everyone sang “Yankee Doodle Dandy, “Hey you, with the bullseye on your back… ” Look at the sheepskin pillow on that guy’s rear- he’ll fall softly when he gets shot in the behind”… )You could  see some of them grit their teeth in passing. The Hessians also took some verbal hits (” Achtung!!! Sprechen de Americaner?, Hey you, weiner schnitzel!  Feiger hund!!!..) They took it a little better than the Brits and even grinned and waved back. Finally we saw  Cornwallis and his second themselves moving towards us (”  Man, look at all that gold- what a target” ) When they heard us,  they backtracked like big-rigs backing up (you could almost hear the beep beep beeeep as they backed up)  and walked  out-of-their-way, heads bowed,  to stay as far away from us as they could.

It was time to form our sections; the British were coming! let me tell you, there was an immediacy that I have only experienced at the beginning of a car wreck. Everything is fast but in slow motion like a freeze frame. We were shooting in teams; I kept watching Doug Ledbetter , shooting with him and Chris Keene (, a really fine fellow with a beautiful wife and two pretty little girls. I’ve met him though emails here but he and his family was here for this event with us. ) I kept hearing the screams of soldiers and over the top, McCroskey and Bogart yelling “prime, load,fire; prime, load and fire.” Chris’s brown bess performed like a chanp; I loaded shot after shot, felt the black powder scorch my face at time, the barrel so hot it blistered my skin… and the red line and the green of the Hessians kept surging foward. The Regiment broke into the open; we had to cross through brambles, the needles ripped open my right hand and arm but I didn’t feel it… The regiments were together at that point and we literally spanned the field, half a hundred strong. We had practiced shooting in kneeling formation and that was unreal exciting and had to look unbelievably good from the spectator point of view. First line kneel, prime, load, shoot; second line, prime (one step foward, knee in  the back of the front guy), load, shoot!!! Oh my GAWD!!!   We fell back; I thought Chad said “fall down” not “fall back”   and I hit the dirt again but picked myself back up and moved out,shooting as I went. I ran out of cartridges a long time before, Adam and Sterling ably provided us with more shot. I  thought I shot 34 or so, but Mike knows how many cartridges his bags hold and he said I let off 42. The barrel was so hot, it blistered my left hand and the thumb of my right as I was cocking. The best part was at the end, though. I had one shot in my gun; it misfired and so I used my pin, unplugged the touch hole , reprimed and poured what turned out to be a load and a half in my musket. It was time to retreat becasue the dragoons were coming but what was I supposed to do with all this powder? Heck, I shot it off- a final salvo, a HUGE boom- right into a dragoon on a white horse!!  I didn’t understand why Chad was screaming  “don’t do that!” I didn’t realize how close the horse was, a white horse surging out of white smoke. All I knew was that it was divine justice for almost tromping on me on Saturday. What if that white charger had left me a little meadow muffin gift all over my new man-clothes????

Now I’m Private Raybo!

Colonials nearby

 I’m still on a high from this weekend; can’t sleep for trying to get the excitement down to moderate levels. It was a unique experience to do what the men allowed me to do this weekend. I have to thank each and every one of them for their forbearance and humor. I  understand Gail Ellis’s passion about being a male cannoneer much better now. The thing about this particular weekend was that this was a battle that was a strategic loss. We were Col. William Campbell’s Riflemen, we fought Cornwallis’s Regiment and the Jagers, we shot within the killing distance of 40 yards, we , like them, felt the fear, the urgency. We were “in the moment”,  looking with horror as the British charged us with fixed bayonets and “ran like hell” http://www.carolana.com/NC/Revolution/revolution_battle_of_guilford_courthouse.html 

We shot as one, line over line, looked death in the face, even if fleetingly as those thousand or so North Carolina Militiamen and all the rest, looked death in the face for a certainty two-hundred and thirty years ago. They won  our freedoms; we recreated their lives.

Stay tuned for pictures as I gather them in from Retha who took great pictures and others from the event. i’ll be posting them in Webshots.  

Doug Ledbetter who made our new Regiment flag and Private Rambo