In the deep mid-winter, long a-ago

This past October(2013) I was able to attend the fall Market Fair at the Claude Moore Colonial Farm, in McLean, Virginia. I wasn't there in any sort of official capacity, just as a visitor; one of a growing group of us who like to attend this low-key event in period clothing. We don't have any sort of job to do there, but we do try to enhance the experience for the public, and we're quite fond of instigating sudden outbreaks of 18th-century Contra, or "Country" dance. This form of dance, for those who don't know, is part of the origin of Square Dancing, but is much more elegant. This is the form of dance the Washingtons, Jeffersons, and Adamses enjoyed at balls and parties. Given, though that at the time of October's fair, my femur had not yet begun healing, I had to diverg myself in other ways. Of course a bit of shopping was in order, especially since I don't really know where else to buy proper brass straight pins. Eating is always an important task, and generally hanging out with the musicians has been part of my Market Fair routine since before I had a group of friends to attend with. Oh, and the auction if you attend, you CANNOT miss Captain Samuel Slycke's descriptions of the items being auctioned to help support the farm, which is the ONLY privately-run and funded park in the entire National Park System. This time, however, I saw a kid standing on, and kicking apart, the remains of an old, badly rotted oak stump. The wood crumbled virtually to dust, with each kick. My immediate thought was "punk!" no, not the kid; the chunks of dry, crumbling, rotten hardwood, a substance known as "punk". Punk is an unusual substance: the wood is so rotted, it's almost sponge-like in its texture, but extremely crumbly. It ignites easily, and has almost no moisture or weight to it. I had a bag with me, so at the end of the day, I filled it with as much of this punk as I could carry. It wasn't until last night, when Imfinally moved back into my own house, that I have had the chance to do anything with it. I have an old, 35mm bulk film can, which I got from my photography teacher, way back in high school. I stuffed it with small chunks and chips of punk, punched a small nail-hole in the center of the lid, and set it inside my woodstove. After about three episodes of Firefly, I pulled it back out. Inside, the punk had been reduced to about 75% of its original volume, and was a deep black. I had made charcoal, although with my limited experience, I don't know how good it is. This charcoal can be used for a number of things: I can draw with it, as it does make a strong, black mark on paper, I could make black powder with it, if I had any sulphur, (I do have a small supply of saltpetre, so sulphur is the only lacking ingredient) I could brush my teethe with it, as was common in the 18th century, but I have, instead, filled my tinderbox with it. My tinder box is a small, oval, copper tin with a domed friction-fit lid, and it contains a domed "damper" inside: a slightly smaller, domed oval of copper, with a loop handle soldered oto the top. When the tinderbox is filled with charcoal, the damper sits atop, with the flint and the steel striker on top of the damper. The lid excludes both air and water. When flame is needed, I can remove the lid, striker, flint, and damper, and, with a small handfull of tinder, usually of "tow" (flax fiber, which linen is made from) or unraveled twine, among other option, I strike the flint against the striker, with a downward shaving motion, to strike sparks into the charcoal. Once a spark catches, I place the tinder close to the ember, and blow gently, until the ember heats enough to ignite the tinder, which is then carefully placed into the fire which has been set up, beforehand. The point of all this, strangely, and with another flying change of subject, is that last night, we got over a foot of snow, and I am pretty mich stranded in my house. I COULD leave, if necessary, but it would mean trudging trough knee-deep snow to my car, and digging out the six-foot distance between it and my street. Since I have nowhere I need to be, though, getting out isn't a huge priority. So, what does a snowed-in reenactor do? Make char, repair clothing, darn stockings and gloves, sew up a new shirt, or box smock, or other such clothing. Tuen a badly-made, falling-apart, oversized writing box into a nice, more efficient-sized one. Study, both books and online, researching everything under the 18th-century sun. These are the times that try mens' souls. Thasummer soldier and the sunshine patriot may shrink from the service of their hobby, but he that stands by it now, deserves the admiration and comfort of decent, properly made kit and functional skills. We can choose to spend our days on video games, catching up on Downton Abbey, or Facebooking until there's nothing left to comment on, but if we set aside part of our day to preparing for the coming season, we'll look back on these few, snowed-in days as a gift, and as a chance to learn more, so we can teach more. So go to it: take up your needle, your chisels, your awl, or your dyestuffs, and when we gather at the afort, this Spring, and the cold of winter is memory alone, show me what you have made, what you have read, what you can now teach.

I'd like to address an issue, which comes up from time-to-time in the reenacting community: historical accuracy in feature films. Mention "The Patriot" in any gathering of Rev War reenactors, and you'm generally hear a collective groan, followed by a long string of complaints and mockery. I've done a bit of it, myself. However, I am not only a reenactor, I'm also an experienced Hollywood Propmaker, Modelmaker, Carpenter, etc., so I have a fair bit of experience on both sides of the debate. We reenactors do a lot of research, and we value others' efforts to improve and promote historical accuracy. It's a central mindset in our hobby, and a mark of "professionalism". We tend to expect others, including Production Companies and Film Crews to respect that philosophy, as we do. What we forget, is that an accurate historical story isn't always entertaining on the Big Screen: in "Braveheart", William Wallace was a kilted "wildman", whose rebellion laste months, maybe a year or two, and in the end, he outlived his enemy, and justice and freedom prevailed. The real story is one as much of politics as of heroism, and Wallace's enemy. Edward the Longshanks outlived him, and his son, in turn, sat the throne for 18 years. The story was dramatically changed, to make it more compelling and dramatic. Remember, Hollywood's job isn't relating fats: its job is to put as many butts in theatwr seats as it can, by telling thrilling, exciting, and entertaining stories. Hollywood WILL changw the storiesq to make thwm more dramatic and compelling. If accurate history conflicts with that storytelling, then it gets tossedq. This frustrates reenactors, who often know more of the story than he original participants did,and who want accuracy, but we're the minoritty, in this. Most moviegoers want entertainment more than accuracy, and it's Hoolywood's job to give them that.

I know I just posted, but I wanted to post something about the life of a reenactor, at this time of year.(January and February) Events are, at best, few and far beteween, but that makes this period a great time for doing research, making new "kit", and repairing old kit. If you're like me, this is the time of year during which you're most likely to pop "Last of the Mohicans" or "The Patriot" into the DVD player. (yeah, I know, some of you would prefer death to "The Patriot", but the story, itself, is pretty good, even if the history is bad.) At this time of year, when we're holding "Make and Mend" gatherings with our friends, we often find ourselves short on supplies. Yeah, we'll be able to pick up plenty of materials at Fort Frederick, in late April, or at similar events in other parts of the country, but that's long after this ideal work period. For this, we need a market event in January or February. In Frederick, Maryland, where I live, we used to have an event called the Reenactors' Winter Market, but the event complex it was held in was sold to a large church, and the event hasn't occured for a few years now. I find this particularly unfortunate, because I now live within walking distance! However, hope isn't lost: I know of two big, indoor reenactors' events which took place this past weekend, (Jan 31 and Feb 1 and 2) Military History Fest, formerly known as Reenactorfest, in Chicago, (which I've never attended) and the 18th-century Artisans' Show, in Lewisburg, PA., which I DID attend, this past Friday. This show is a decent-sized show, featuring all manner of 18th-c craftspeople, and is a good place to see and buy some really nice pieces. The only disappointment, for me, is that it's mostly finished goods, and not much by way of raw materials. The show takes up four rooms of various sizes, of which two are mostly reproduction goods, one is mostly actual period pieces, and one is mostly gunsmithing parts and supplies. If they had a room for fabric vendors, leather suppliers, etc., it would be, to my mind, more complete. Even without that, though, I highly recommend the show. In addition to this show, I also attended the Great American Outdoor Show, at the Pennsylvania State Farm Show complex, a HUGE indoor fairground. This show runs for nine days, and it's virtually impossible to see everything in one day. however, since it's a modern outdoors show, reenactors will find little of specific interest to the hobby. Even so, I enjoyed it, and will likely attend, next year. Although these events have passed, they're worth looking into for next year, and I hope to find still more winter market events, for next year. So call, write, or email your friends, and get together to enjoy each others' company, work on projects, and generally get your reenacting fix. By the way, if you're looking for something different to pop into the DVD, try "Sweet Liberty". It's a 1986 comedy about the making of a Rev War film, and the conflict between Hollywood's tendency to "embellish" history, and the reenactors' fondness for accuracy. It could almost be retitled "the making of The Patriot"!

Reenacting, like any activity, is a process of constant learning, and often involves UN-learning long-trusted ideas and notions. These often fall under the heading of "reenactorisms", practices which we THINK are historically accurate, but which we later learn, through actual ongoing research, are ideas we picked up that have no real basis is documented history. I've been reviewing period Manuals of Arms, or what is now called Military Drill. (LEFT shoulder, ARMS! PREE-sent, ARMS" and that sort of thing.) if you watch a lot of eighteenth-century reenactors, and movies like Last of the Mohicans, and The Patriot, you'll see these reenactorisms hard at work. Watch the soldiers when they fire their muskets: they'll often turn their heads away from the flash of the flint striking the hammer. This usually goes with the idea that the musket is vaguely pointed, and not aimed, and that the protruding bit above the muzzle is a bayonet lug, and not a sight. Period documentation doesn't support any of these ideas: not only is e front sight specifically referred to AS a sight in period manuals, many extant muskets have a rear sighting groove filed into the breech of the musket, to help in aiming. Troops were trained to aim, and to HOLD their aim when firing. The muskets of the day were innacurate enough as it was, and Sergeants were always on their men to keep their muzzles down, due to a soldiers' natural tendency to aim high. Proper aim was also aided by a particular point which I ALWAYS see in period diagrams, and almost NEVER see at reenactments: the left elbow, held down and close to the body. The natural inclination is to hold the elbow straight out when aiming and firing, but it should, properly, be held close to the side. Try this out: from Shoulder, bring your musket to Present. Chances are, your right elbow is sticking out to the side. Now sight down the barrel. did you have to tilt your head to the right to bring it in line with the sight? And where is your cheek touching the stock? Almost at the comb, right? Now, without moving any other body part, lower your right elbow to your side, and let the butt move with it. You'll likely find that the butt is moved up and forward, automatically bringing your right eye in line with the sights, and placing the CHEEKPLATE, and not the comb, against your cheek. Now, you don't have to crook your neck to aim, AND the flashpan is higher and farther away, not only from YOUR face, but from the face of the man to your right. One of the reasons flashguards have become necessary, is that we're not holding our muskets properly! If we take the time to train ourselves in the proper, documented, dropped-elbow stance, we'll find firing to be more comfortable, and possibly safer. As always, don't take my word for it: check ACTUAL PERIOD documentation, and try the techniques I've proposed, adjusting a bit here and there, until you see the results I'm talking about.