Upcoming Event: 1812 Camp at the Orange Johnson House

Once again, I'm helping to organize an 1812 militia camp at the Orange Johnson House in Worthington, Ohio. If you're a local history buff or just curious, feel free to stop on by and learn some more about Central Ohio's part in the war. If you are a reenactor or living historian and wish to participate, you can email info@worthingtonhistory.org for more details.

War of 1812

Muster and Encampment

Saturday May 30th, 10 am - 5 pm & Sunday May 31st, 11 am - 5 pm

The Orange Johnson House, 956 High Street

Step back in time as re-enactors bring the War of 1812 to life on the grounds of the Orange Johnson House and the Village Green.

Visitors to the Orange Johnson House grounds will be able to explore an 1812 camp, and also tour the home with a costumed docent as part of the admission. Come watch the militia march to the Village Green to practice musketry!

Admission: Adults $5

Children 6 -16 $3

Children under 5, Free

Organized by the Worthington Historical Society

Worthingtonhistory.org

A Worthington, Ohio Historical Reenactment

I am pleased to announce that I am working with the Worthington Historical Society to organize an 1812 living history event in central Ohio on the weekend of 28-29 June 2014.

The grounds of the 1811 Orange Johnson House in old Worthington, Ohio will play host to an encampment of reenactors portraying the militia, volunteers and regulars who served in the area during the War of 1812.

In particular, the idea is to represent a muster of a local militia company, with drills, camp life and musketry and light infantry practice on the village green. We hope to bring to life some of the history of the town from 200 years ago.

The encampment itself will take place on the grounds of the house at 956 High Street in Worthington, while musket demonstrations and battlefield maneuvers will take place on the village green at State Route 161 and High Street, where they would have been conducted two centuries ago.

For more information, you can contact the Worthington Historical Society at info@worthingtonhistory.org, or contact me through this blog.

Public Schedule:
Saturday, June 28 10am-5pm

• 10:30am: Morning Parade of the Worthington militia company and Orders of the Day.
• 11am: March to the village green for drill and musketry.
• 2pm: Drill and Musketry on the village green.
• 4pm: Ditto

Sunday, June 29 11am-5pm

• 11am: Morning parade and Orders of the Day.
• 12:30pm: March to the village green for drill and musketry.
• 2:30pm: Ditto.

First Siege: Memorial Day Weekend at Fort Meigs

This year's First Siege weekend was at its customary three-day Memorial weekend dates. Here's a reenactor's view of the action:

 Experienced reenactors know to take shade where they can find it. Our regular infantry company grabbed a nice spot to wait out the initial probe of the light infantry towards some suspected enemy positions.

 The regular Rifles and Volunteers with the battalion colors, eager for action, stayed out in the sun a bit longer than we.
Eventually most of them came and joined us. "Hurry up and wait" is usually the order of the day while skirmish lines and artillery exchange pot shots.

 Price's Co, Light Artillery, wait to get into action.

 The scene inside the fort as civilians stroll over to see the ruckus unfolding along the south wall.

We had enough time to sit for a portrait. That's me at left, with a volunteer in the blue frock and regular rifleman to the right.

The survivors of Dudley's Defeat straggle into line. We were complimented on how thoroughly we bungled the operation.

As a rule, flintlock weapons tend to be temperamental and have good and bad days, depending on the humidity, fouling on the lock, and the sharpness and size of the flint. My musket, for once, was going off every time I loaded and pulled the trigger. I had chosen the magic flint! Even though we were supposed to lose, and most of my platoon went down with imaginary wounds, I kept at it until the barrel and lock became too hot to handle (when you see a leather sling on a musket, it's best use is as a potholder-- the barrel isn't red hot but it will scorch like a simmering tea kettle!).

We were surrounded and the gig was up, so at last I took a hit and staggered to my knees with a non-fatal wound. Another private from the 17th Infantry spotted me and helped me off to safety. We were the only survivors of the regular company... We made it back to the motley ranks of the volunteers, who promptly surrendered. It was that or run off into the parking lot.

Our formidable foes, a Centre company (I think) of the hard bitten 1st Battalion, 41st Regiment of Foot. We overran some grasshopper guns representing the Indian battery, but had to relinquish the gunners you see at right in exchange for our parole.

Back Rank! You don't get as good a view of the action being stuck in the back rank of an infantry company, but the problem soon solves itself as enemy musketballs find their mark. In the dense woods we happened to form a 2x3 column that could fire in three ranks by the flank (forwards) or by two ranks to the front (right face). It's hard to explain to non-infantrymen, but great for close action so long as the front two guys remember to kneel when firing. Otherwise, as period tactician William Duane noted, you stand a fair chance of the third rank man blowing off the head of his front rank file mate.

 On Saturday evening, we call off the war for the night and have a hoe-down on the most convenient dance floor to be found: the Grand Battery.

 My musket exacted a bitter price for working flawlessly for three days straight: I burned my hands in the first fight, split my thumb open on the flint in the second, and bled profusely. The situation called for a decidedly non-period remedy.

 Memorial Day itself is considerably more laid-back. Most First Siege participants go home (Canada has a different Memorial Day weekend) and we have a ceremony midday to honor the dead.

A stack of arms. Muskets have the amazing capacity for self-storage as long as you have the other two musket owners present again when you need to retrieve your portion of the tripod.

Some Shooting at a Mark, and Some Uniform Notes

It's been a quiet few weeks, with my reenacting season over with the Battle of the Thames on the first weekend of October. The Garrison Ghost Walk hosted by Fort Meigs is on starting tonight, if you're in the Toledo area.

(Mississinewa, probably the largest 1812 event in the United States, was last weekend but I have yet to attend that one. Maybe next year. The idea of what was essentially a stripped-down mounted infantry expedition against Indians turning into a three-ring circus of British, artillery, sailors, and merchants is a bit offensive to the historian in me. Someone should stage a real Mississinewa Expedition reenactment and call the present event something else.)

Shooting:

I got around to cleaning my gun this week (a note for all you reenactors: it's fine to call a musket or rifle a "gun" because the original people you represent used that term for both-- just don't go calling a musket a rifle or vice versa!). I was down a sanding sponge, an essential piece of equipment for scouring rust off an "armory bright" (read: no bluing or metal treatment at all) finish on a musket, so I decided that I would have to strip the gun and clean it again shortly thereafter. There was nothing to do but take it out and get it dirty once more!

I believe many reenactors have never shot live bullets out of their weapons. There are some pieces I've seen in this hobby that I would never venture to fire live--although, as a rule if you can't trust something at the range you shouldn't trust it with a blank load either. Other people enjoy the hobby mostly as an opportunity to collect guns and hunt or target shoot, dressing up and going to living history events more as as side thing. I like to take my musket out to the shooting range to test military loads and get a feel for what live shooting actually involves, as well as to get another chance to burn gunpowder.

Walking onto a modern shooting range with a flintlock musket design more than 200 years old is a bit like bringing a pet dinosaur to a dog show. People used to the stubby, black plastic and stamped metal rifles of today don't know what to make of a five-foot long, bright steel and walnut firearm-that-can-double-as-a-spear. People who shoot or have shot percussion or in-line muzzleloaders are not uncommon, so a second culture shock is the flintlock ignition system. 

If you think about it, a percussion-lock muzzleloader (just beginning to come into being during the War of 1812 period, but not popular until the 1830s and later) is a deconstructed version of a modern firearm-- instead of having everything packed into a nice, metallic package of primer, cordite and bullet you have a separate primer cap, gunpowder propellant, and ball. The system still works pretty fast. The flintlock, by contrast, uses a bit of the same propellant as a priming, and sets this off in a brilliant smokey flash before burning the main propellant charge. 

It takes a lot of getting used to: by contrast, when I first shot a .22 calibre semi-automatic rifle, I didn't even realize I had made a few shots until I saw the little pin-prick holes appearing in the target sheet. The flash--and sometimes non-flash-- of the priming requires a flintlock shooter to resist the urge to flinch and thus disturb their aim. A hat with a brim actually helps, kind of like blinders for a horse.

At any rate, I took my musket and a cheap wire target holder to the public shooting range at Delaware Wildlife Area, managed by the Ohio Department of Natural Resources. I had made up seven or eight paper cartridges--military style-- each holding a .649 calibre round ball and 120 grains of FFg powder (fairly course stuff for modern shooting but the original cartridges in 1812 would have been made with 160 or so grains of course, unglazed gunpowder). At fifty yards, I fired repeatedly at a white Williams-Sonoma bag without seeming to make a dent. I really need to pick up some field glasses before my next trip to the range! 

At the last shot, the target collapsed to the ground like a condemned man before a firing squad. At first I thought this was the first time I'd hit the mark in eight shots, but on closer inspection it turned out that the ball had struck the wire target holder itself, twisting and breaking it as it passed through. There were three other holes where balls had passed through, as neatly round as if by a ticket-punch. Each of these was about the diameter of my index finger. I have yet to recover any of my musket balls from the backstop out of consideration for my fellow shooters, but I imagine they look like pancakes once they hit dirt. 

Next time I'll try a political yard sign-sized target at 100 yards, and see if the smooth bore can touch it. If I can find some, I shall add 3 no. 4 or T gauge buckshot to the musket ball, and see how that does. This "buck and ball" cartridge was the standby of the American infantry until the end of the Civil War.

Notes on the 1813 Uniform

People on both sides of the political spectrum dismayed at the dysfunction exhibited by Congress lately shouldn't be-- the incompetence of the legislative process goes back to the Continental Congress of the 1770s and it's a wonder that we were able to sufficiently organize ourselves enough to break free of Great Britain. The War of 1812 was no exception. Our legislative branch picked another fight with one of the better (I shan't say best) run military powers of the world and haphazardly struggled to reorganize the tiny US Army; to clothe, feed and pay for it. 

One of the few Federal services to stay up this past two weeks was the Library of Congress, for the simple fact that it might be needed for consultation by the legislators. Thus I was able to browse through the American State Papers, the collected documentation produced by Congress as it has deliberated on all sorts of legislation down through the years. The volumes on Military Affairs are a good source for reports on battles, clothing, regulations, and anything else related to the American field armies. Among the odd minutiae you find here are facts such as how much the West Point math professor made (40 dollars a month--pg. 435) or how many women were authorized (read: given rations--there may have been more women paying their own way) in proportion to men (one women was allowed for every seventeen men-- pg. 436). 

One of the more interesting items from 1813 were tables, presumably drawn up by the Commissary General of Purchases, Callendar Irvine in Philedelphia. These list the cost of each uniform item issued to US soldiers. They also compare the "old" Artillery uniform of 1812 with the cheaper ones devised for 1813. Within three years or so the Army went through three different uniforms, getting cheaper every time. They ended up with what Renee Chartrand has called "impressive sobriety... American soldiers have since favored a simple, practical, and comfortable uniform that has given them an air of respect and efficiency. (Chartrand, A Most Warlike Appearance, pg. 62).

Eating Habits of the American Soldier, 1812

Civil War era rations and care package.

 19th-century travelers could expect to find some basic foods and eating utensils in roadside taverns, as could soldiers when they were quartered in the settlements.

Civil War-era mess tin and utensil.

Researching a living history impression requires that you follow a lot of leads down a lot of different aspects of everyday life. Figuring out how soldiers ate during the War of 1812 is one of them. We know a lot about how troops during the American Civil War ate, not only because of period sources and photography, but because a lot of mess items survived. The War of 1812 presents more problems, because the soldiers were issued their rations in the form of raw food by the mess or 6 or 7 men. Each mess was equipped with a tin or sheet iron pot and two tin pans. As for individual eating equipment, the men were on their own.

A postwar report to Congress about the poor variety in soldiers diets suggests how improvised food was in the 1812 Army:

When a recruit receives his ration, if the meat be fresh, he broils it to a cinder on the coals, on the end of his ramrod; if salk port, he eats it raw; and if salt beef, he boils it; and with his bread, will make a pretty good meal for some time, but in the morning he feels the want of his usual infusion of tea, and at noon his customary supply of vegetables. As a substitute for the former, he warms his stomach with a gill of undiluted, corroding whiskey, and, after living a few weeks in this way, is sent to the surgeon, worn down with dysentery, diarrhea, and other complaints of the stomach and bowels... (American State Papers, Military Affairs, vol. I pg. 805).

The surgeon who wrote the report claimed that the amount of meat, bread and whiskey allotted each soldier was generous; but there was no allowance of vegetables-- supposedly, the soldiers were able to forage or buy these items from sutlers out of their pay-- and the army sick lists were enormous as a consequence.

He compared contemporary allotements per day per soldier by the two Napoleonic powers, France and England:

  "Pulse" in the French army was a kind of dried mixture of beans and legumes. They weren't getting lots of vegetables by our standards (1 gill= about 4 fluid ounces), but it was commonly believed that cooking meat, bread, and vegetable rations into a soup would improve digestion.

We know a lot about what kinds of food were being delivered to the Northwest Army because of a Congressional investigation into the wartime expenses incurred by William Henry Harrison. Inventories of food and other ration items delivered by civilian contractors reveal what was actually reaching the troops (from the American State Papers pp. 644-661):

The Northwest Army in 1813 was having a hard time shipping enough barrels of salt pork and flour up to the Lake Erie region, let alone issuing vegetables. Another problem was the lack of mess kits:

Our company is divided into messes of six men each. Our rations are delivered together to each mess when we encamp at night. This consists of flour, fat bacon, and salt. The flour is kneaded in a broad iron camp-kettle, and drawn out in long  rolls the size of a man's wrist, and coiled around a smooth pole some three inches in diameter and five or six feet long, on which the dough is flattened so as to be half an inch or more in thickness. The pole, thus covered with dough, except a few inches at each end, is placed on two wooden forks driven into the ground in front of the camp-fire, and turned frequently, till it is baked, when it is cut off in pieces, and the pole covered again in the same manner and baked. Our meat is cooked thus: a branch of a tree having several twigs on it is cut, and the ends of the twigs sharpened; the fat bacon is cut in slices, and stuck on the twigs, leaving a little space between each, and then held in the blaze and smoked till cooked. Each man takes a piece of the pole-bread, and lays thereon a slice of bacon and with his knife cuts therefrom, and eats his meal with a good appetite. Enough is cooked each night to serve for the next day; each man stowing in his knapsack his own day's provisions. (Samuel Williams, "Expedition of Captain Henry Brush..." Ohio Valley Historical Series, Misc. No. 2, quoted in James Brenner, "On Campaign: In Camp and Field..." pg. 10).

A Camp Kettle.

In some of the new 12-months regular infantry regiments  raised that year, the situation for recruits was even more dire:

We drew our pork and flour, but we had no camp equipage, not having yet reached our regiment. We kindled fires of drift-wood found on the beach. We took the flour, some on pieces of bark, and some in dirty pocket handkerchiefs. If we had cups, we ladled the water from the bay into the flour, and those who had no cups lifted the water with their two hands so arranged as to form a cup. The flour thus wet, without salt, yeast, or shortening, was baked, some on pieces of bark before the fire, hoe-cake or johnny-cake fashion; and some removed the fire and put the dough into the hot sand, wrapped in leaves or paper. Our pork we cooked in the blaze of the fire, on the points of sticks.    (Alfred Brunson, A Western Pioneer, [Cincinnati: Walden and Stowe, 1880], 110, quoted in Brenner, 10.).

The Petersburg, VA volunteer company had a similar experience when marching to Fort Meigs in February:

The same night we encamped on very wet ground... It was with difficulty we could raise fires; we had no tents, our clothes were wet, no axes, nothing to cook in, and very little to eat. A brigade of pack-horses being near us, we procured from them some flour, killed a hog, (there being plenty of them along the road;) our bread was baked in the ashes, and the pork we broiled on the coals-- a sweeter meal I never partook of. (Nile's Weekly Register, "Picture of a Soldier's Life" dated 28 March 1813.)

 
 From these sources, it appears that a good impression of 1812 camp life would include broiled meat, bacon or salt pork, hard-baked biscuit or some sort of ash cake or fried dough cooked in or over the fire. Eating utensils were very few and far between: a private soldier probably carried some sort of cup, a spoon and knife, and perhaps even a fork. He may have shared a mess tin, but if he carried one himself it was small and lightweight-- no pewter or hardwood. The private soldier traveled light, with whatever he could bear to carry for miles in his pack or haversack, and not much else.

Sewing 1812 Trousers

 Painting of a quilting frolic by John Lewis Krimmel. Note the very high waist-ed trousers worn by the young man in the foreground. His stockings or socks are exposed because he's wearing very low dancing shoes (which look just like modern ladies flats) in combination with high water pants. Military pants were supposed to come down to the tops of the brogans, but still have the vent on the sides.

As a historical reenactor, one thing that is constantly on my mind is clothing. Finding accurate costume for the War of 1812 period can be a challenge, since the period isn't as widely popular to recreate as is the Revolutionary or American Civil War eras. This is changing-- the War of 1812 has become more popular lately as a result of the bicentennial, and more merchants are starting to manufacture accurate costume for the period. 

I remember when my mom bought my first suit of clothing for 1812 reenacting for Christmas when I was in high school. The sutler sold her an 18th century pair of knee breeches and a waistcoat. We traded them in for smallcloths that were more accurate, and that I wore for years afterward. But even these clothes were 18th century patterns; a low rise, baggy seat pair of linen trousers and an 1803 pattern vest. Even now, more accurate clothing is so expensive compared with Rev War era stuff-- and off-the-rack clothing is usually far too baggy and ill-fitting for the well-tailored 1810s-- that it is far more cost effective to make your own.

I made my trousers off of a Past Patterns' pattern for 1820s-1840s men's trousers. I'm happy with the way they fit-- high waist and no baggy seat like many 18th-century pattern trousers-- but would shorten up the fall and fall welts a bit. For those of you who've never seen a pair of small-fall trousers up close, the intricacies of the drop fall and dog-ear pockets may be interesting. The small welt pocket on the left center of the waistband is for a pocket watch-- these were universally worn in the trousers and attached to hanging watch fob chains-- not hooked into vest chains like later 19th-century pocket watches. (This latter way of wearing watches has not fully percolated through the 1812 reenacting community.) I'm not an expert tailor by any means, so there is a lot of rough machine sewing here.

The Battle of the Thames Bicentennial

It's been a while since I've posted on the blog, though I've been pretty active on my Tumblr pages. This season of 1813 bicentennial events wrapped up in the western area with the Battle of the Thames from October 4-6. The battle itself is important because it saw the final American victory against the British forces of General Henry Procter, and those of the Indian Confederation under Tecumseh. Tecumseh met his end at the battle, though his brother, the Prophet, continued to fight with his followers along the Niagara frontier. 

The battle fell out like this: after the American victory in the Battle of Lake Erie, which eliminated British naval forces on the lake, Major General Henry Procter found himself cut off from supplies and with only a day or so of rations to feed his men with. His problems were added to by the host of several thousand northwest Indians who had come to fight under Tecumseh's leadership, and whose families had followed them to the British headquarters of Amherstburg. Procter's overtaxed storehouses had to feed these people as well. Faced with an impossible situation, Procter decided to burn his posts at Amherstburg, Detroit and Sandwich (modern Windsor) and retreat up the poor roads towards London. The warehouses and construction yards were still smouldering when Major General William Henry Harrison's army landed near the mouth of the Detroit River and marched into town. 

Harrison left Brigadier General Lewis Cass' brigade of regular infantry to guard Amherstburg, while he sent General Duncan McArthur's regulars to reoccupy Detroit and subdue the Indians who still surrounded the town. Cass volunteered to join Harrison's retinue as a volunteer aide-de-camp. The rest of Harrison's horde consisted of about two thousand volunteer mounted militia from Kentucky, who had been forced to leave their horses on the other side of the lake for lack of transport. They were led by the Kentucky governor himself, Isaac Shelby, who was nicknamed "Old King's Mountain" for his role in that Revolutionary War victory. The army was reenforced by a 2-battalion regiment of mounted riflemen under Colonel RM Johnson, about a thousand men who had ridden from Fort Meigs to Detroit, and crossed the river there. Commandant Perry and three of his schooners followed in support of the land column. When the schooners were forced to halt for fear of being ambushed along the high-banked Thames River, Perry joined Harrison as another volunteer aide.

Along the retreat, the British tried to delay their American pursuers by dismantling bridges, but several such work parties were overrun and captured. Eventually, on October 5, Procter was forced to halt and form his exhausted men up to fight a rear-guard action. There was not much hope for a victory against the overwhelming odds. Tecumseh, who had been arguing for some days that Procter should stand and fight, was more hopeful for another victory over the poorly disciplined Americans. 

The battlefield consisted of a wide meadow along the north bank of the Thames River. The steep-banked river protected the British left flank, which was further strengthened with a single six-pounder placed to sweep the road. The rest of Procter's men were strung out in open order (each file of men separated by several paces from one another) so that his single battalion could fill the meadow between the river and a dense swamp that blocked off his right flank. There was a small patch of swamp in the middle of the British line, and Procter posted another line of troops as a reserve. 

Tecumseh's Indians (no one knows how many still followed him, but most estimates state about 500 warriors) took up a flanking position in the swamp, perpendicular to the British line. This created an inverted L shape. Tecumseh stood several yards in front of the junction of the Indian and British lines, in order to inspire and encourage both forces. 

On paper, it was an excellent strategy. If Harrison's forces rushed headlong towards Procter's main line, as Kentuckians had done in several other battles, the hanging Indian line could sweep down and envelop him. Procter's open order line could fall back and create disorder in the advancing American columns. His reserves could advance to wherever they were needed, or serve as a falling back position. It is very reminiscent of the American formation at the Battle of Cowpens. Had Harrison been less cautious, it could have been a disaster for his troops.

In reality, Procter's men were exhausted from days of marching and were half-starving. Several times already they had prepared for a last ditch defense, and some men were complaining bitterly about the indecision. They declared they would fight for their knapsacks, but could not bear the endless retreat. Worse still, Procter failed to coordinate his tactical plan with his subordinates. Many of his officers had lost confidence in him. The demoralized troops of the 1/41st Regiment could not be expected to mount a spirited resistance to the Americans.

Harrison's vanguard caught up with the British line a couple of hours later. He deployed his principle forces, the two small divisions of Kentucky volunteers, at right angles, with BG Henry's division facing the British line to the east and BG Desha's division facing north against the Indians. The handful of regular infantry (the Ohio-raised 27th US Infantry under Colonel Paull)  and allied Indian warriors took up position on the right flank, next to the river bank. Their task was to overrun and capture the British six-pounder. 

When Harrison saw the British line in extended order, he realized that they could be vulnerable to a mounted attack. He ordered Col. Johnson to send his first battalion against the British, charge through and dismount to catch them between two fires. Johnson's second battalion was to disperse the Indians defending the swamp. Johnson himself took charge of the second battalion and led a small party of horsemen who charged in front of the battalion as a "forlorn hope". The first battalion was preceeded by a "forlorn hope" as well, about twenty horsemen who would draw the first fire of the British and force a wedge through their formation.

Within minutes of the charge against the British regulars, the battle on the right was over. Most of the regulars fired a ragged volley, then threw down their arms as the horsemen charged past. The six-pounder was abandoned, its slow match still smoking. Major Wood, Major Langham and some other mounted staff officers pursued General Procter, who abandoned his carriage on the road. Procter managed to escape, but without his papers and his watch fob seal and chain (which now reside at Fort Meigs State Historic Site in Ohio).

This past week's reenactment was blessed with warm weather, and we had a dry afternoon on Saturday for the battle itself.

Me, dressed up as a militiaman in a frock coat and top (or round-) hat.

Our company. We decided to make up "fatigue frocks", a type of overall coat issued to regular soldiers, because as regulars we would have all been issued them and in a pinch they double for state militia uniforms.



The British infantry rehearse an open-order formation. Usually these formations were used to cover more ground during a retreat or to screen in front of denser lines or columns. They were not meant to hold ground in a sustained defensive battle.

A company of Kentucky militia in line next to us. They wear rifle frocks, which are the same pattern as fatigue frocks but with capes and fringe.



The event organizers even had cavalry, a rarity at an 1812 event! In the distance are the Canadian Cowgirls, a dressage troop. They were portraying Col. RM Johnson's 2-battalion mounted rifle volunteer regiment. Some of the girls even had fake mustaches and whiskers for effect.



The British march out towards defeat. I'm usually not able to take many photos during a reenactment, as I'm normally carrying a musket and trying to look authentic. Maybe someday I'll sew up an Engineer officer's kit, and wander around with an Ipad disquised as a leather folio or ledgerbook.

We spent most of the balance of our day in camp. The organizers issued an authentic campaign ration of raw beef and vegetables, which we stewed over a fire.

Overall, it was a great bicentennial event, which attracted hordes of reenactors and thousands of public from the Ontario region. It's one of those one-time events, as opposed to an annual living history weekend at Longwoods Conservation Area or Fanshaw Village near London, ON. It takes a great deal of planning to stage a regular event, let alone an anniversary reenactment which has only one chance of coming off.

Life in Early Ohio-- This Weekend

This coming weekend Fort Meigs is hosting an event called "Life in Early Ohio." It showcases the lost arts and trades that were commonplace in the early Republic, such as blacksmithing, tinsmithing, leather work, laundry, cooking, farming, woodcraft, and more. These trades were not only essential for life in the settled, agrarian areas in the young United States (even urban areas like New York City were close to the country-- Greenwich Village was still actually a outlying farm village) and the frontiers of the West (meaning everything "over the mountains" from the eastern seaboard); at Fort Meigs itself, for a time the largest population center in Ohio, skilled trades and crafts were essential for preserving the army. 

You can find more information, including a schedule of events here. As usual, the Fort's garrison will give demonstrations of musketry, rifles, and artillery as well as camp life.

I'll be there too, probably keeping an eye on the stores in the Quartermaster's storehouse and handing out receipts for things like boxes of musket cartridges, a delivery of tomahawks and "scalping knives" for the army, and the paid services of volunteer express riders.

Siege of Fort Erie Reenactment

This weekend I had the pleasure of attending the Siege of Fort Erie, an annual reenactment of the 1814 siege held at the site of Old Fort Erie across Lake Erie's eastern end from Buffalo, New York. As usual I was part of the Fort Meigs volunteer group (the Old Northwest Military History Association or ONMHA for short) portraying Captain Daniel S Cushing's Company, 2nd United States Regiment of Artillery. Since the fort itself was defended by men from the 1814 Corps of Artillery (the successor organization to the three regiments of artillery formed in 1812), as well as regular soldiers from Ohio, we had the double honor of representing a regular artillery force from Ohio. We brought along a six-pounder on a field carriage, and formed a section of field artillery with the Michigan Legionary Corps' four-pounder. There were also two smaller guns manned by the 17th United States Infantry (detached) and the people of the USS Ferret, which formed a second static section. All together, we formed a respectable company of artillerists, especially when the garrison's own 12-pounders and 18-pounders chimed in.

 I took my Ipod along, and took as many pictures as I could without risking too much anachronism.

The Fort:

First things first: a plan of the fort itself as it appeared during the siege. Our gun occupied the redan at point A. The original attack took place at the bastion at right [a] (see last weeks' post).

At the time of the battle, the stone fort was incomplete. The two ravelins (at bottom) were separated from the main works by a flat open plain. American soldiers strengthened the defenses as best they could.

The fort as it has been reconstructed today. It was blown up after the Americans successfully defended it in 1814.

Niagara Parks has done a great job in the past few years of improving the vistor experience here. The last time I came out for a reenactment, there was only a small shanty selling tickets, concessions and gifts outside the fort--and one very small restroom. It was replaced with a large visitor center, museum, and a complex of trenches representing the British siege works. They have a new working 18-pounder siege gun, which was extremely impressive. Since the vent was poorly drilled, however, it proved extremely unreliable. 

Rocket launchers. The British were the first to develop modern rocket weapons, and the only major power to use them during the Napoleonic Wars. This was probably because they were so inaccurate as to be mostly useless on a tactical level-- their main impact was Francis Scott Key's mention of the "rocket's red glare" in his poem.

Inside the Walls:

Two barracks buildings, which themselves were loopholed to act as a kind of citadel inside the fort, overlook a small parade ground. The fort's powder magazines were tucked under the bastions, one of which can be seen in the background here. During the night battle, the British overran this bastion, only to be blocked by musketry from the barracks and the alley between them. They turned an 18-pounder around on the bastion to sweep the inside of the fort, only to be swept off themselves when the poweder magazine beneath them erupted. At the end of the siege, this bastion was nothing more than a crater.

Looking from outside the curtain wall, towards the sally port giving the defenders access to the outer works. It was constructed in an L shape to block any cannon fire or assault.

The officer's quarters on the second floor of a barracks. The place was supposed to be pretty unhealthy-- one Captain died of the ague contracted here, and the owners of his deathbed donated it to the fort.

 The British officers of the garrison would have fought off boredom here, in the officer's mess. The American headquarters during the time they occupied the fort was further back along the lake shore in a farmhouse, but would not have been much different.

Enlisted men's quarters. These are typical of the small British garrison. The British soldiers enlisted for 20 or 25 years at a time, and might bring their wives and children to live with them in barracks like these. When the Americans were here quarters would have been much more makeshift. Most of them camped behind a series of earthen traverses like those at Fort Meigs, planned with the help of Meigs' own Major Eleazar D. Wood.

The guard room, with a special platform that allowed men in full kit to grab some sleep. The guard consisted of men posted in a series of individual pickets along the perimeter of the fort, and a "guard" or platoon sized pool of men to relieve them and make regular rounds. When not active, the guard would rest here and keep warm.

Commissary. 

The surgery and hospital. Surgeries were done on a table, elevated so that the surgeon's mate could get as good access as possible to the patient. As much light as could be afforded came from the windows and lanterns.

The Camp:

Our camp was behind the fort. The theory of castrametation or setting up military camps was that you should set up the tents so that the unit can form up in a short amount of time. Thus, we place the common tents in front with NCOs at the ends of the line, officers behind them, and cooking flys and lounging areas off behind the "business" portion of the camp.

The fronts of the different regiments' camps form avenues and alleys, a city under canvas.

Looking across the end of the lake to downtown Buffalo, New York.

A Surprise Attack:

For the night battle, we found ourselves stationed on the elevated redan on the curtain wall of the fort. Several smaller guns took station along the ditch outside. We were expecting trouble, so that a company of riflemen was sent out on the plain as a picket. Several companies of infantry lined the walls and outer works. I was loading the cannon, but brought along my musket in case the British got into the fort.

We had a box seat for the ensuing fight. The British line brushed aside our skirmishers and advanced to the edge of the ditch, although our guns tore swaths through their ranks. Then they bashed their way into the fort under a hail of musketry. We had to stop firing our cannon when they were over the ditch and into the interior of the fort, because we couldn't depress the muzzle enough to sweep them off with canister. I took up my musket and joined the men firing from the wall. It was a close and bloody fight. A few of the Brits got into the bastion at far left, but somehow set off the powder magazine and disappeared in an impressive sheet of flame. Others, including Caldwell's Western Rangers, ran afoul of a hornets nest in the ditch and ran screaming, covered in angry bees (or maybe just one guy got stung, I was too busy emptying my cartridge box at them to see very well). It was all over in a few minutes. For once we had the pleasure of seeing the Big Red Machine retreating over a field littered with red coated bodies. The Invasion of Canada was working!

Yay!

Alas, the higher brass decided that it was strategically pointless to hold on to this part of the Niagara peninsula without controlling Lake Ontario too. So we ended the weekend by blowing up the fort and retreating to Buffalo (after a tedious interview at Customs). But we'll be back...