"Sharp, quirky, and occasionally nettlesome", Walking the Berkshires is my personal blog, an eclectic weaving of human narrative, natural history, and other personal passions with the Berkshire and Litchfield Hills as both its backdrop and point of departure. I am interested in how land and people, past and present manifest in the broader landscape and social fabric of our communities. The opinions I express here are mine alone. Never had ads, never will.
Dear, Typepad. I have blogged with you for going on seven long years, and never accepted advertising. You, who have accepted around $5 per month from me to host my award winning blog, have now surreptitiously and inelegantly started adding links to your advertisers from content in my posts. Words like cash, and credit, and giant vibrating pleasure walrus, are now hot linked to unsolicited advertising. Hey, why don't you just start phoning up my several hundred daily readers at dinner and harassing them with sales calls? At least that has the veneer of Old School. What you are doing is just lame.
Your business must be really hurting to stoop this low. It does not inspire confidence. But then, blogging is so 2005.
This is beneath you. It is intrustive. And it will prompt me to archive my blog someplace else and migrate to a different platform if you don't knock it the hell off.
This past weekend, Talya and I fell in with our friends in Crane's (3rd Continental) Artillery at a Revolutionary War event in Dighton, MA. This was unusual for us in a number of respects. We are both members of Col. Ogden's 1st NJ (Continental) Regt. which can generally be found at events south and west of Manhattan. Living in northwestern CT, we are well placed to take advantage of reenacting opportunities in New England, but had not had the chance to do so prior to this weekend.
Neither had I served on a gun crew before, and I must admit it didn't feel right packing the car without my musket and accouterments so in they went, though they stayed unused in our tent.
Finally, the forces of the Crown were greatly outnumbered at Dighton and lacked artillery of their own, so Crane's was "galvanized" and took the field as the Royal Irish Artillery, making me a blue-coated redcoat for this event. We had a marvelous time, and what follows are my impressions informed by the novelty of the experience.
Dighton celebrates its 300th anniversary this year and the reenactment was staged as one of the highlights of the tricentennial. Sponsored by the Town and the 13th Continental Regt. the planned military actions at the event were billed as a hypothetical Battle at Segregansett scenario that could have taken place had the Ministerial Forces pushed north from their stronghold at Newport, Rhode Island in 1778.
There were several hundred reenactors present from units based in southern New England, with perhaps a 3 to 1 advantage going to the patriot forces. There were very few units that we recognized as having fought beside (or against) us at engagements in the mid Atlantic states, but among these were two members of the 1st NY (Continental Line); the United Train of Artillery; Crane's Artillery and the 2nd Mass. Regt. This last group seems to fill the singing niche occupied after hours by the 2nd NJ Regt. in the Mid Atlantic Region, and I shall have to ask Sgt. Skorka and co. whether they can take credit for the proliferation of the "I'm thirsty!" call and response we heard coming from their campfire.
There is a highly developed fife and drum culture in eastern MA and its environs, and it was much in evidence this weekend. Not only that, but there were a number of instrumentalists of other sorts in camp as well, and one was seldom out of earshot of musicians rehearsing or performing. Not to be outdone, the Light Infantry Co. of the 64th Regt. of foot had a hunting horn player, and to top everything off on Saturday Night there was a grand performance by The Jolly Rogues with a poly-instrumental piper/accordionist/flutist/violinist sitting in.
The encampments themselves were not laid out on strictly military lines, which caused some initial confusion for me (which I may never live down) as we set up our tent with Brits only to find that Crane's were set up somewhere else. There were a few sutlers present, most of whom were based locally, and a couple of "rural characters" among the civilians in camp, including a dead robbing crone and a fellow with an extraordinary blue and red wagon bed. Several of the camp followers also picked over the battlefield and retrieved the wounded (or their belongings) at the close of the fight. It was good to see Bob Allegretto, Chairman of the Continental Line, visiting the encampments on Saturday evening as well.
We were generously welcomed by the members of Crane's Artillery, and made a number of new friendships. Some of my comrades in the infantry kidded me beforehand that I would be little more than a dragrope man at this event, but I was able not just to serve the field piece but to fire the morning gun. Crane's is the Revolutionary War impression of the Artillery Company of Newport, RI, the oldest chartered militia company in the nation. They have four original cannons (and full documentation) that were cast in the 1790s for Rhode Island by Paul Revere's foundry. As Crane's 3rd Artillery, they take the field with an iron 3 pounder they have christened "Baby Tyga", and she makes a mighty growl.
The artillery coats worn by Crane's are dark blue with red facings and rectangles of mustard yellow tape around the coat buttons. These are very close to those worn by the Royal Irish Artillery, and allowed us to stand in for them at this event. On Saturday we were at the center of the line in a reconnaissance in force of British and loyalist infantry. We had the Light Bobs of the 64th Regt of Foot on our left and the 54th Regt. of Foot amalgamated with some Royal Marines on our right. Butler's Rangers and King's Ranger's guarded our flanks. Arrayed against us were a large number of patriot militia from various units, members of Rhode Island, New York, and Massachusetts Continental Line regiments, mounted and dismounted dragoons, and a two gun section of the United Train of Artillery. That is all I could identify in the fog of battle, but it was more than enough to contain the Royalist Raiders. Still, we gave a very good showing, and then I and the rest of Crane's returned to our allegiance after the smoke had cleared.
It was a fine weekend with especially fine weather though cool indeed at night) and both of us plan to heft a rammer or sponge with our friends in the Artillery when our regular campaign schedule with the Jersey's permits, most likely this year in mid October. Our thanks to Low Spark, Mike, Leslie, Steve, Kathy, Craig, and the two Kellys who made us feel so welcome. It was an honor to serve with you. "Three huzzahs and a Baby Tiga!."
With my 18th century interests and Connecticut residence, a tag line like "Still Revolutionary" certainly ought to appeal to me, but I am not the target audience of Connecticut's newly minted $27 million promotional campaign. Watch the initial video and then we'll read the tea leaves together.
So, does this speak to you? Does it reach out to your heart and disposable income and say come to Connecticut? Whose vision is this?
Well, it is Governor Malloy's, certainly, and the professional consulting firm hired to promote our state. It seems to be directed toward at affluent professionals, vacationing families with children, cultural and heritage tourism, and particularly at successful African Americans. I'll return to this last demographic shortly, and consider the curious choice to emphasize a storyline connecting an African American man to his Connecticut roots and an ancestor who served during the Revolution, rather than hitching a ride on the Civil War Sesquicentennial which is totally absent from this video.
Actually, there is a great deal that is not emphasized in this two minute and seven second-long "Connecticut: Still Revolutionary " brand launch. Western Connecticut is missing, for one thing, with its world class trout streams and outstanding outdoor recreation opportunities including national treasures like the Appalachian Trail. Aside from someone falling backward off a bridge on a zip wire in slow motion - overwhelmingly the preferred camera speed for this promotion - the only way people in this ad seem to enjoy the outdoors is from their vehicles.
Classic New England fall foliage and white steepled village greens just didn't make the cut. One would not get the impression from this video that Connecticut has any farms at all, except for wineries. So much for Agra-tourism. So much for bucolic landscapes and covered bridges. There is plenty in the video about the Connecticut River Valley and the Southeastern part of the state. We have Mystic Seaport and Aquarium and the two big casinos on full view. It was nice to see the Essex Steam Train and Hartford Symphony featured, but this still leaves a great deal of the state and what it has to offer out of view.
The "Still Revolutionary" motto implies that The Land of Steady Habits is full of disruptive technology, a place where invention and independence are both highly valued. So where are the heirs to Samuel Colt, or P.T. Barnum, or David Bushnell (who was both a Revolutionary and an inventor)? Making wine, or making bets at Foxwoods, maybe, but they are not in evidence in this initial promotion. And why is that nice white couple that shows up in their car at 1:32 seconds into the video using a paper map to "follow the sky" like it says in the promotional song? Don't they have GPS?
If the creators of this campaign really wanted to make a strong connection between our state's Revolutionary past and our innovative present, all it required was a shot of the full-scale replica of Bushnell's American Turtle submarine at the Connecticut River Museum fading into a shot of a sub from General Dynamics putting out to sea. Stick Fort Griswold Battlefield State Park in the sequence and the African American man in the video could make a direct connection to his Revolutionary forebears by viewing its Jordan Freeman plaque commemorating the heroics of one of its black patriot defenders. It just feels like another missed opportunity.
Let's examine the story arc of the African American couple in the video who come to Connecticut. Their inspiration is apparently the discovery of an image in a book of a black soldier of the Revolution, with the inference that he is an ancestor. Given the popularity of genealogy programs like Henry Louis Gates' "Finding Your Roots", this is a pretty good hook. You can clearly see the soldier's cocked hat and hunting frock (and anachronistic mustache, too), though it is not clear whether the illustration is meant to be a photograph or a black and white reproduction of a painted or engraved portrait. Given that daguerreotypes were not available before 1839, one hopes it is not the former. Again, going with a contemporary photograph of a black soldier from the Civil War would have made the connection so much easier, but then there would be nothing in the film that directly references the American Revolution and the "Still Revolutionary" tag line.
The story continues as the couple get on their motorcycle (visually relaxing as they enjoy the freedom of Connecticut's roadways). Then the man dismounts, removes his helmet, and tries to orient himself. He glimpses a quiet stream. He sees the shade of his ancestor marching away through the forest (the only glimpse of outdoor recreation in the video that is truly Revolutionary). He then goes to dinner at a casino to toast his homecoming.
If he had had his moment of ancestral connection at Putnam Memorial Park, or Fort Griswold, I would have bought it. If the choice had been to highlight the service of African Americans in the Civil War and the State's considerable contributions to the cause of Abolition - after all, we have the birthplaces both of Harriet Beecher Stowe and John Brown right here in western CT - I would have been more satisfied. But then, it is not about me, or my interests. It is about that guy on his motorcycle and others like him and what will motivate them to come to relax and spend money in Connecticut.
I wonder whether the consultants and focus groups used for this promotion deliberately chose not to link to the Civil War for its target African American audience. Being reminded of slavery is not the same as being reminded of freedom. There were more than 300 men of color from Connecticut who fought during the Revolutionary War, the vast majority of them for long terms of service in the Continental Line. For most of the war, they were part of integrated regiments, and this is what the video shows in its brief depiction of the ancestral soldier, marching away in single file behind two fellow white soldiers. This is not part of the popular narrative of the Revolution, but neither is slavery.
The message here is; "You are successful, a self made man, and you can be proud of the part your Connecticut ancestor played in winning our freedom." It is not a Revolutionary message, though it does put people of color back into the story of our nation's founding. It does not put them in our extraordinary natural areas, but there may be a reason for that as well. I once shared a plane ride with the poet Nikky Finney, who remarked that when she was growing up in rural South Carolina, her grandparents had an intimate knowledge of their farm that stopped short at the uncultivated woods beyond their fields. Bad things could happen to you in there. There were trees with strange fruit.
I would like to think that when the African American man in the promotion gets off his motorcycle, he is struck by the stillness of the woods and the movement of the brook and something else awakens inside him when he sees the ghost of his revolutionary ancestor. A sense of belonging as well as continuity. A connection to place as well as history. An investment in what happens here going forward. That would be a great outcome, for him and for Connecticut.
I went to my children's school last week to give a living history presentation on the American Revolution. Far from being mortified by their father in geeky clothes, they were utterly thrilled by the visit and apparently basked in the glow of minor celebrity. Reenacting is cool, at least in their K-8 school.
We've been talking about having them join us for an event this year, and what that would mean for them to participate in this hobby. It looks like we will all be going June 9th and 10th to Rockford Plantation in Lancaster PA. In addition to casting about for various items of clothing and securing a spare tent, we've talked about camp safety and etiquette and things they could do as part of their impression of Colonial children in a military camp. They understand it is a privilege and really want to take part, so we'll give it a try.
Emily plays the flute and for Christmas received a student fife, practice book and CD. She finds it challenging without keys to press but is making steady progress and there will be opportunities for her to observe and interact with fife players in camp. Elias has asked for cartridge paper so he can demonstrate how to roll cartridges.
They will do fine. And maybe, get bitten by the reenacting bug that got their Dad when he was even younger than they, but had to wait decades to act upon it in earnest.
I cannot tell whether the fog that hangs in the air outside will burn off later today, or continue to mist through the trees and keep everything green and damp throughout the day. My vegetable garden calls for my spade, and if I do not make the time to thoroughly work over that small patch of ground it with be thick with deep rooted weeds when I plant it in earnest a week or two from now. Another bed of perrenial herbs and wildflowers is overrun by choke cherry suckers, and it may be that this year I am forced to destroy the garden to save it. There is garlic mustard testing the boundaries of my modest backyard from beachheads it has established at the property lines. Ignore that, and the choke cherry suckers will be but a modest inconvenience in comparison.
I love gardens in spring, however, especially the one that contains ephemeral wildflowers. I have let the dog toothed violets and ramps seed and grow where they will, and watched with delight as new Jack-in-the-Pulpit plants appear in other parts of the flower bed from their parent. There are Dutchmen's britches and bloodroot and both have started to find new niches amid the ferns. There are trillium and wild geraniums and wild ginger, and even a clump of calcium-loving large yellow ladyslippers. There is a new seedling growing this year, apart from the clump of many flowered stalks nearby, and I believe it has accomplished that most unusual feat for one of these orchids and actually germinated.
Later in the season the cardinal flowers and white turtleheads will rise above the fading green leaves of these plants as the early flowers have all gone to seed. I'm not sure what blight did in my formerly vigorous stand of Giant Solomon's Seal but it has all but vanished where once it flourished. I watch, and I weed, and I wonder, and still it is this garden that helps me mark the progress of Spring to early summer better even than the uncurling maple leaves, or the nesting wrens at the back of the yard. It has taken a decade for this garden to assume its present shape, and with luck, and a bit of intervention when an invader makes a run at it, it will continue to evolve and change for many years to come.
The 1st NJ Regt. (Continental) held its 2012 Training Day to kick off the reenacting season at Washington Crossing State Park. As we will be depicting militia at an event in August, some of us wore our civilian kit instead of our blue uniform coats. Mine is a work in progress. The hat and accouterments are quite different from my normal Continental wear - a brown wool felt fantail, a brown 19 hole belly box and a gray "snapsack" - and a spruce green wool civilian frock coat and brown wool weskit are on order. I will be wearing my fascine knife in place of my bayonet as well.
Several of us had the chance to take the company out for a drive, and suddenly my mind went completely blank when called upon to give my first commands. After a lurching start I found my groove, but it was an abject lesson in knowing what to say as well as what to do. Privates are not meant to think or even to anticipate commands, but it is another matter entirely for those who give them.
We had a good turnout, including three military school cadets and half a dozen women of the regiment. It should be a great year.
We have some truly spectacular waterfalls here in the Berkshire and Litchfield Hills and all along the Taconic Plateau. I make a point of visiting as many of them as I can in every season. Here are a few shots taken during this past remarkably warm and snowless winter of Bash Bish Falls in Copake, NY and Campbell Falls in New Marlborough, MA .
There is no meltwater this Spring, and many of our flashy, ephemeral streams will likely run dry as the season advances. Still, something about a cleft in the rock and falling water always feels spectacular.
This is inside baseball (way low and inside, actually), but those of you who love a possibly too clever historical farce may be interested in the further adventures of the fictional Private Constant Belcher: sometime batman to Brigade Major Aaron Ogden of the New Jersey Line and something of a cross between Harry Flashman and Blackadder's Baldrick.
Although it bears repeating that he is NOT REAL, and that any historical personages or military units described in his "Journal" are used fictitiously, Constant Belcher has a blog of his own, and also a Facebook page, so like him if you do (and keep cool if you don't) but he appears to be here to stay. Also, as his editor I have thoughtfully provided useful background information of genuine historical interest by way of introduction to his narratives.
Thus far the Belcher papers that have been transcribed by me and my fellow conspirator collaborator Larry Schmidt cover the following episodes during the American Revolution:
(May 10th and 11th, 1778) when Belcher visited Sally Wister;
(June 23rd - June 28th, 1778) Monmouth Campaign , concerning also the colours of the 1st NJ and Molly Pitcher, and
(Sept 3rd - 9th, 1780) concerning the Death of General Poor & possibly involving Joseph Plumb Martin .
Rest assured we shall keep you abreast of further developments and what we anticipate will be more amazing discoveries as they are revealed in the Belcher Journal. To any who were taken in my initial Belcher revelations last Autumn, I plead nolo contendere and call upon your better natures to assume good intent. And if you still think giving green apples to a horse will help speed the passage of your watercraft by means of a copious wind, then I have a bridge I'd like to sell you. Or at the very least, Belcher's submarine.
In 1779-1780 Washington's main army spent the worst winter - not only of the war but of the entire 18th century - in the hills south of Morristown, New Jersey. Known as Jockey Hollow, the encampment ultimately housed more than 10,000 soldiers of the Continental Army in 1,200 log huts which they had to build for themselves by clearing more than 600 acres of trees while enduring severe cold and relentless snow storms.
It was a winter like none other ever recorded East of the Mississippi. New York Harbor froze to a depth of 18 feet, and Long Island Sound could be crossed in sleighs. Jockey Hollow was literally buried in snow as the men began to arrive and the storms continued to pound the encampment while the huts were under construction. Army Surgeon James Thatcher recorded;
"[We] endured one of the most tremendous snow-storms ever remembered; no man could endure its violence many minutes without danger of his life...the sufferings of the poor soldiers can scarcely be described, while on duty they are unavoidably exposed to all the inclemency of snows and severe cold; at night they now have a bed of straw, and a single blanket to each man; they are badly clad, and some are destitute of shoes...the soldiers are so enfeebled from cold, as to be almost unable to perform their military duty."
The men slept six to a tent until they were able to construct log huts for 12 men measuring 14' x 16'. The regimental officers had huts, located further up the hillsides from those of the men, accommodating 2-4 officers and had chimneys on either end, but these were not fully completed until February. The roads, such as they were, were impassable much of the time, which prevented essential supplies from reaching the troops. Connecticut private Joseph Plumb Martin later recalled;
"The deep snow was the keystone in the arch of starvation. We were absolutely, literally starved. For four days and as many nights I did not put a single morsel into my mouth except a little black birch bark I gnawed off a limb. Some boiled and ate their shoes. Some officers killed a pet dog for food. If this was not starving, I wonder what was."
Compared to these extreme privations, the weekend encampments I have participated in at Jockey Hollow this mild winter bear little resemblance to what those men survived in 1779-1780 (and extraordinarily, fewer of them succumbed to starvation and illness here than died at Valley Forge two years before). Nonetheless, there is something profoundly visceral about living and working in one of the five reconstructed huts on the very site where the Pennsylvania Line encamped at Jockey Hollow. Little things, like the way the doors are aligned to take advantage of maximum afternoon sunlight, or the effort it takes to keep a fire going all night long, make this kind of living history experience more instructive for those of us who undertake it than the battle recreations that are also part of our hobby. Using period tools and techniques to build a roof without nails, or cooking the kinds of rations that soldiers ate (when they had them), add greatly to the experience. The fact that none of us is at risk of starvation or freezing to death and can go home after a less than fully comfortable night or two in the huts only underscores our amazement and admiration at what the men we portray did under horrendous conditions for months on end.
For a number of years, members of the 2nd New Jersey Regiment and invited reenactor guests have enjoyed a special connection as volunteers at this site and an excellent partnership with the National Park Service. They are able to work on the huts, slowing bringing them closer to the way the originals were likely constructed based on ongoing historical research and archaeology. They interact with hundreds of park visitors at the huts, including many who are truly engaged and interested in what they are doing and what we have to share. I have been able to participate as one of these reenactors last December and earlier this month and look forward to doing so again in the future.
Remember that old game show Concentration, where contestants had to identify familiar words and phrases by deciphering pictures and images riddled with puns and phonetic representations? Well, yesterday for Valentines Day I gave this to my beloved...
Hopelessly romantic, especially for a girl who loves language and has a newly minted PhD.
But don't despair! Just because we are not friends on Facebook (where these have already had their debut) doesn't mean you can't have the fun of trying to crack the code in the brainteasers I offer here for your amusement.
See what you make of these mental calisthenics....
