"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.
It is a good day in my book when my professional life and my living history hobby intersect. Talya and I enjoyed a fine Saturday morning in our 18th century garb as part of my employer The Housatonic Valley Associations "Free Family Fun" event celebrating the history of the river. The rain stopped in the early morning hours and the weather was not oppressively hot, so we did not wilt in our heavy wool and linen.
We set up our tent by the riverside across from the hydropower station at Falls Village. The old iron bridge between that community and the Amesville section of Salisbury is now closed and badly needs repairs, and we were able to tell those who attended the event that the first bridge on that site was owned and managed by Charles Burrill, who at the time of the revolution was a militia Colonel. I turned out in my civilian attire representing one of Burrill's 14th CT militiamen, and Talya did her Quaker apothecary impression to the delight of one little girl in particular who had a grand time holding her woven egg basket.
I got to share a few original artifacts as well, including this 1773 Connecticut made fowler flintlock with a 60" barrel, and to read a letter written by my 5th great-aunt Hannah Ogden in 1779 containing all sorts of juicy gossip of the goings on in Elizabethtown NJ with the British just across the water at Staten Island.
There were 20-30 people who turned out for the three hour event, which featured a walk with local historian and expert on the colonial ironworks of our region Ed Kirby and a presentation on the native American cultures of our region. There was actually a spectator there who is Lakota Sioux and was in the area visiting family. He told us about attending a ceremony in Goshen, CT a few weeks ago for the naming ceremony of a rare white buffalo calf that was just born there, an event of great sacred significance to many native American people.
Last weekend's Revolutionary War reenactment at Gelston Castle in Mohawk, NY was epic in many respects.
It was a huge event by the standards of our hobby, despite being organized on the same weekend as an annual reenactment at Old Sturbridge Village that is usually among the largest in New England. There are no official returns, but there were likely as many as 1,000 reenactors present, with 350-400 muskets on the American side from what I could see and another 150 distaff and non-combatants belonging to the army. It was likely somewhat similar (perhaps a tad less under arms) on the British side.
The weather was extremely hot and humid, producing a number of (thankfully non-fatal) heat casualties, but the rain held off until the final minutes of our battle on Sunday and most of us had broken camp before then in anticipation of the violent thunderstorms that followed many of us home.
It was also an event that, although long on our regiment's schedule and one of just 2 national events this year for the Continental Line and British Brigade umbrella groups in our hobby, when the returns came back for the 1st NJ it turned out only my partner and I had confirmed we would be going. As a result the unit scratched.
Undeterred, although my better half wisely elected to stay at home, I promptly did something I had been meaning to do for a while and paid my dues to join our sister unit the 2nd NJ. I love these guys, and had an outstanding time.
This was the 235th anniversary of the Battle of Oriskany, a brutal fight in 1777 between Tryon County NY militia regiments and their Oneida Iroquois allies under General Herkimer against a force of Loyalists, Hessian Jaegers and a much larger assemblage of British-allied Iroquois warriors. There were a number of battle scenarios planned for the reenactment, covering both Oriskany and other engagements in the Saratoga campaign as well as a hypothetical defense of besieged Fort Stanwix.
It was an opportunity for hundreds of us on both sides to field as militia, and I greatly enjoyed seeing our Royalist adversaries dressing down for the occasion. I accepted delivery (by a Major of Royal Marines, no less) of a fabulous new green wool frock coat made by fellow 1st NJ member Heather Clark Vogeley of Pennock & Hyde, with custom-made Death Head wool thread buttons by Cheryl Childress of Blue Cat Buttonworks. I cannot speak highly enough to the quality of these talented craftspeople. The wool was deliciously soft and a close color match to the buttons, and the coat lined in natural linen as I had requested. It is a gorgeous look, but given the weather we experienced, I opted to use it for evening wear though it is appropriate for less formal uses. Instead, I went into battle in a used natural linen coat I picked up last June at Rock Ford, and was I glad to have it with temperatures in the mid to high 90s and relative humidity upwards of 75%!
Our hosts were Mitch Lee as Col. Commandant and the 1st New York Regt. (Continental), shown here at left along with General Herkimer on horseback. My hat is off to them for putting together a successful and in some respects unique experience under such challenging conditions.
For one thing, the order of battle initially seemed to be madness, with untried commanders promoted from the ranks to lead mixed companies of units from the deep south to the midwest to Canada who had never served together before. It proved to be the work of a mad genius in the case of the 4th Company (David Skorka's) of Klock's 2nd Regiment, for I have seldom made so many good friends or been in a group that performed so well together on and off the field.
The 2nd New Jersey under veteran NCO and now Captain David Skorka fielded three muskets and a musician (Chuck Beale, Adam Young and myself with William Crawford as our drummer). The 2nd NJ were in the first platoon with 2 fine men from the Hillsboro (NC) District Militia and three members of the Wisconsin-based 4th MA with Terry Chatfield acting as Sgt. along with Michael Tapavica and Nicole Dickman as Debora Sampson in the flesh. The other platoon was lead by Chase Paterson acting as Sgt. with half a dozen of his fellows from Ontario who field as a light company of the 2nd CT when playing at RevWar. This company was capably of firing on the spot, extending the line for light infantry fighting, and performed with great elan and distinction in all three of our engagements during the weekend and I am now friends on Facebook with the majority of them (the photo of our company in column is a detail from one taken by Lisa Gambacorta of the 1st NY).
The opening engagement was a reenactor-only affair that took place before the public were admitted to the site. We mustered in what was already proving to be an extremely warm morning at 8:30 and formed up as 4 regiments of Tryon County (NY) Militia to represent the relief column that was heading to Fort Stanwix to blunt St. Leger's thrust down the Mohawk to join up with Burgoyne's Army. General Herkimer was harangued by his officers for his reluctance to march through heavily wooded country the last few miles to the fort due to the large number of hostile Iroquois that could be waiting in ambush. Against his better judgement and in the face of accusations of cowardice he ordered the army to wheel from line into column and lead us out of the valley where we were encamped and up to a high ridged and the entrance to a deep and forested ravine that we subsequently entered in a column just two files wide. It was eerie as the idle talk fell away and the only sounds were the rustle of the marching soldiers and the occasional clink of a tin cup or stray drum beat. We knew they were there, on either side of us, and paused from time to time facing back to back away from the column. We did see a few heads and shoulders watching us in the gloom, but whether it was our native allies or the enemy was not fully resolved until a single shot rang out from the right and then a general engagement began.
Skorka's 4th Company faced left and fired several volley's at the ridge above us, though it was unclear there there was much firing coming back at us from that quarter although we could see loyalist units in the road ahead firing directly on our column. We advanced toward the embankment in open order firing on the spot by platoons, and then saw movement from the left that could have been militia from the enemy or our column. We were urged to climb the hill by a man in a gray frock coat who proved to Captain Bob Allegretto in militia mufti who urged us to support his company that was in danger of being cut off as it worked along our flank.
The 2nd CT needed no further urging, and I being near them moved up as well to gain the ridge, followed shortly by the rest of our company. We found a force of 4th New Jersey Loyalist greenjackets to our front, and Captain Bull's war party on our flank and rear, so we took on the greens back to back with Allegretto's men and held our ground firing from cover. I took a hit to the arm midway through the fight and was adamant that, however things transpired, I was not to be left behind to the scalping knives of the foe. Those down in the ravine had it worse than those who fought upslope to engage our attackers. Our aggressiveness bought us time but when the ceasefire was called it was not yet clear whether we could hold them off much longer or were fated to be pushed back to the embankment or overrun.
It was a long, hot march back to camp, and once we had replenished our water I announced that whether or not we were campaigning light without a dining fly, we needed shade and I was going to construct a brush arbor. I took out my new fascine knife and was joined by Adam Young with a beautiful forged tomahawk and Chuck Beale with an ax. Together we felled several ash saplings and fashioned 9 poles from their stems, We dragged them back to our camp and used a spade and many broken wooden tent staves to shim them into place.
While busily employed at this task, my fascine knife blade suddenly parted company with its handle, narrowly grazing my arm as it flew back after a cutting stroke with the back blade. Up to this point, the curved cutting side had performed brilliantly, but on closer examination I found the tang did not extend far enough into the handle to absorb the stress of a chopping blow on the back edge. The excellent craftsman who made this knife promptly agreed to fix it for me at no cost and to extend the tang and add at least one more pin and a hickory handle, and I look forward to having it back in good working order in a couple of weeks.
In any event, we continued to work in the oppressive heat and humidity to erect our brush arbor, and everyone in the 2nd NJ camp including Fallon Sarafin and Lauren Curtis Skorka who had prepared a nourishing split pea soup for our noon repast helped to complete it. The resulting arbor was a life saver, and although it was neither plumb nor able to withstand the strong winds that came through after midnight, it was an authentic solution to the problem of finding shade in camp and became a welcome spot for us and others in the 4th company to shelter that afternoon before the next fight.
Our next fight was loosely based on the Battle of Freeman's Farm during the Saratoga Campaign, and for this we took the field as regulars though still in our lightest clothing. I still wore my linen coat but took my bayonet along in place of my fascine knife. I was also very glad to have my handmade brown wool felt fantail hat by Morgan Shea of Blackleaf Leather and Hats as it provided good shade. We were meant to depict Learned's Brigade, and marched in column up to the ridge but then turned right, passing the ruins of the estate's Gelston Castle that had been destroyed some time ago by fire. We also discovered that the public had been enjoying such delicacies as corn dogs and ice cream from vendors located in this vicinity, and sorely wished they accepted Continental script as we marched by. We proceeded down the trail, with one flanking company driving back a small force of Highlanders we found on the road. Finally, we turned into a field, where the 4th Company was positioned at the right wheel of Jim Stinson's artillery piece. He and his gunners engaged in a duel with an enemy field piece across a field of chest-high grass while we stood in support. We could see several grenadier companies on the enemy right, but nothing to our front at the center, and shortly we were order forward into the grass to flush out whatever may have been lurking there.
This proved to be a very strong force that rose up from behind a swale as we advanced, and included many of the line companies of the enemy army including (based on prisoners and casualties taken) the 43rd Rgt. of foot, the Royal Marines and the 1st NJV. They moved aggressively toward us, but Skorka's 4th Company performed prodigies and gave them one crisp volley after another by platoons and altogether while the rest of our regiment started to roll up the enemy's left flank. After a brief parley to remove yet another heat casualty (there were over a dozen that day) and a brief, taunting chorus of "Skorka's Raiders" just in case any of our friends the Grenadiers were in earshot, the fighting resumed and we drove the enemy from the field. It was one of the sharpest, fasted, most well executed battles I have yet experienced, and it forged our company into a singular unit rather than an amalgamation of unfamiliar ones. We were truly the lads and lass of the company Captain S. (The photo at left is by Terry Chatfield of the 4th MA).
That evening I put on my new finery and my black cocked hat and went with Captain Skorka and some of our fellows to meet our now quite friendly adversaries in John Van Vliet's grenadier company of the 35th Regt. of Foot. All has been well forgiven since the epic encounter in the wee hours of morning last year at Wyoming that has now become the stuff of legend, and we were treated to a splendid table and a platter of bangers and mash courtesy of the errant Batman Pve. McCamanaugh and the good lady Ruth. The men and women of the 35th are fine adversaries but even finer friends, and there was much song and good cheer all around until after sunset when we departed to seek refreshment at the evening's regularly scheduled jollification where there was still more drink and song, including a reprise of the Ballad of Skorka's raiders. My night ended at the dining fly of the German Regiment of our army, singing Scottish murder ballads and Thomas Paine's Liberty Tree before turning in.
The dawn broke with a strong, cooler wind though still very humid and with ominous predictions of rain and hail. It was determined that there would be just one battle that day instead of two (though I understand this decision was not fully understood by some units), and that we would be allowed to break down and pack much of our gear and camp if we moved our vehicles to the side before the public arrived. I left my tent standing but got the rest of my gear stowed. Usually on a Sunday the numbers are smaller than the previous day, but even with bad weather in the offing our company was only down by one man and there were plenty left on both sides to take the field.
This last fight was a "what if" scenario, and played out as an assault and defense on the besieged fort Stanwix. As the 2nd CT put on their "pretty hats", Col. Lee told Capt. Skorka that he would soon see why his company included Light Infantry. We went to the top of the ridge and our company was detached to protect a two gun battery with a panoramic view of the action. There was a long, sloping field below teeming with the enemy, and a sharp fight developing far beyond and off in the woods below as well. Despite my best efforts at cleaning my gun, it was so fouled by the humidity that it refused to fire, so after half a dozen volleys I became a casualty, and therefore a spectator, up on the ridge beside the guns where I enjoyed the show as a light rain began to fall. You can get a brief glimpse of what I saw in this clip I posted on Youtube. The rest of the company fought in open order, firing from the ridge and engaging the enemy as it charged and counter charged until just Captain Skorka and 4 diehards from the 2nd CT remained.
(The following two photographs were taken by Terry Chatfield of the 4th MA)
We marched back to camp in a light rain with our muskets at secure arms to protect the locks, and a short while later we were bidding goodbye to our new comrades and heading back to our lives in the modern world. It took me three hours of patient cleaning to get my musket back in order, but that was a smal price to pay for an experience that I am proud to have shared with such fine fellows. The level of professionalism, of good will despite adversity, and of ready friendship made the weekend spectacular and a grand success rather than a miserable disaster which could otherwise have been the result.
Huzzah for the 1st NY for giving us this opportunity!
Huzzah for the 2nd NJ for welcoming a kissing cousin of the 1st into their ranks as a true member of the "sloppy seconds" (even if he is too great a clothes horse and not yet sloppy enough to meet their standards).
Huzzah for the 2nd CT, the 4th MA, the Hillsboro Militia, and the many friends I now have in these units.
Huzzah for the 4th Company and the irrepressible Captain S!
(Photo credits from left to right below as follows - 1st picture by Jennie Sanders, next 2 pictures by Janice E. Smith;next picture by Kimberly Griffith; next picture by Terry Chatfied; and those after that by me).
(Photo at left courtesy of Rock Ford Plantation) It has been a week since we returned from taking Emily and Elias to their first reenactment. We had thought to ease them into this hobby, perhaps waiting for a day event or one of the smaller encampments, but as things turned out we all bundled into my station wagon - tent poles strapped to the roof - skipped school and drove nearly 6 hours to Lancaster, Pennsylvania to take part in one of the largest Revolutionary War events of the year. From the picture at left, captured by a site photographer, they clearly took to it like fish to water.
As shakedown cruises go it highlighted some things we will want to anticipate for next time and some things that worked very well. Both of them were thrilled and excited on the way home as well as the way to the event, which in no small measure is due to the kindness (and forbearance) of those who interacted with them. Emily got a private fife tutorial from our dear friend Thaddeus Weaver of the German Regt., and Elias was elected Captain of the small gang of children who fought their own skirmishes throguh the camp. It was a big weekend for them and for us and is something we'll do again, though probably the next time they will fall out with us will be in October at Germantown.
We arrived early in the afternoon on Friday and went to work setting up our tent, secured a site for our kitchen, dug the fire pit and gathered wood. Some friends in the 2nd NJ loaned us a smaller tent for the kids that arrived at 11 p.m. on Friday night and which worked well for them. Our unit trailer was unable to get tot he event, but everybody pitched in to bring what we needed to have a camp kitchen, spare tents, and other necessary items.
Rock Ford is a privately run historic site located within a public park, and was the estate of Revolutionary War general Edward Hand. It is an amazing place and because of the terrain is a challenging one to pull off a large event. Organizationally, things went remarkably well. We had ample water and free ice, the porta-johns were in good shape, and the after hours festivities were grand fun (I did not witness the exploding keg but heard it was an epic geyser). There was 18th century music and dancing and we had exclusive access to the historical treasures of Rock Ford (the matchess horde of Pennsylvania rifles and a dress given to Mrs. Hand by President Washington were truly breathtaking). Our camp was laid out according to Steuben and we posted guard, but there was plenty of time to seek shade and socialize. We dealt with the long trek to long-term parking, the climb up hill and down to the sutlers and a Monmouth-worthy heat wave and still felt it was a grand weekend.The Continental Line and British Brigade, two of the umbrella organizations in our hobby, made this event one of the two major gatherings of their member units of the year. I have not seen full returns for the event but there were upwards of 400 of the enemy opposing us on Saturday and we probably fielded 300-350 on our side. I believe some of our dragoons were galvanized because we so outnumber the Brits in that department. We had five or six cannon on the Patriot side of things.
It was a small but resolute contingent of 1st NJ soldiers in Captain Tom Vogeley's Company. For Saturday's fight in addition to myself this included half a dozen muskets, including my good friend Larry Schmidt, who came out for the day from Cape May, NJ. There were enough in our amalgamated unit on Saturday for two platoons and I was in the 2nd under brevet Ensign/Lt. Skorka of the 2nd NJ, and we were down to 4 1st NJ muskets on Sunday. There were six distaff in camp along with Talya and the children.
The battle plan for Saturday called for us to wear full kit, including coats and packs, tools etc if we had them, and march down to the Plantation as if we were occupying the ground. After an hour of that, the forces of Tyranny and Oppression were to come sweeping out of the forest. The next day, we would return the favor. This is not how it played out, naturally.
Instead we marched in full kit with Vogeley's company at the head of the column and immediately moved through the Plantation and up the trail toward the high ground from which we knew our enemy would soon be advancing. We were on a wide horse trail at the very end of the property, with two scouts out ahead to give warning of the enemy advance. Soon they started coming through the tangled vines and shrubs (nearly all of them non-native exotics, also invaders of our shores). Skorka's platoon fired half a dozen brisk volleys before we started to fall back. At one point Capt. Vogeley refused the line so that 2nd Platoon could defend our flank. We were hit by the 23rd Fusiliers in front and Highlanders and jaegers and lord knows what else besides on our left flank. We made our way passed Coren's gun and into the open, where the rest of our battalion and the militia had come on line. More of the bloody backs had broken through on the right, however, and we were stubbornly and relentlessly pushed back.
We did not break, but we did not prevail. I fell somewhere in the center of the field when we were hit by canister fired by the Royal Irish (just deserts for me, as I had recently impersonated them in a May reenactment at Dighton MA in the #3 position with Crane's "galvanized" artillery). Vogeley's company took heavy casualties and it was hot as blazes. The heat was a more dangerous enemy, and it was difficult to cool down for a while back at the fly even after having hydrated religiously all day. I blame myself for carrying a pack and full gear, even though that was the order of the day. On Sunday, I went out in white linen, thank you very much, and it was still over 90 degrees.
For Sunday's fight, Talya once again took excellent battle photos from the sidelines and some of thse appear here. . I went into battle wearing a bloody linen bandage, which was cooler than my other headgear and attracted a good deal of picture taking. On this day we again lead the column up to the high ground and pushed hard and fast down to the field. We ignored the yips of the savages in the bush and took on skirmishes from the 64th and a wall of thr 43rd and Marines at close quarters near a lone apple tree. We were charged at once and "redeployed to the rear", but then quickly reformed and pushed on. The volleys from the dismounted dragoons of the 4th LC on our right blew the leaves from the apple tree. We were protected by a small swale and fired from a kneeling position.
The British did not want to lose, and as they still outnumbered us it was hard to make them give ground. I used 22 rounds before my gun stopped sparking reliably and down I went, only to be revived by an angel with cold water and propped up against that hard fought apple tree. There was much mopping of fevered brows. The battle continued on our of the view of the spectators and as our surgeon had packed up at this point I made my way back to camp to do likewise.
It was a helluva time. The trees were brimming with fireflies at night and we sang "The Flowers of Bermuda" and long with Tom paine's "Liberty Tree." So may good memories were made, despite the heat and challenges of doing this with the children. My thanks to all who did so much to make it work as well as those who came out to watch. Looking forward to Oriskany!
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.
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.
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.
