Tag Archives: living history

Camp Followers or Women of the Army?

22 Wednesday Jan 2014

Posted by in History, Laundry, Living History, Reenacting, Research

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Soldiers and Camp Followers Resting from a March. Jean-Baptiste Pater, 1730. private collection. used from Wikimedia Commons.

I prefer woman belonging to the army, or “regimental woman,” which sounds like Mick Jagger or Roy Orbison could sing it, but one could have a pretty lively discussion of which term to use. Camp followers has a connotation–prostitute–that doesn’t reflect the full reality of army life for women in either the British or the Continental armies.

Were there prostitutes who took advantage of the proximity of a large customer base? Yes, undoubtedly. In the John Robinson Waterman Papers there is an unusual letter from Col. William Battey dated October 28, 1812 with a sketch of the army camp near Albany and a description of camp life. This description includes the treatment of a woman accused of prostitution and summarily banished from camp. I think she was beaten and half-drowned, so the army took the no-prostitutes-whatsoever dictum very seriously.

As far as cooking goes, a commenter elsewhere explained that women would have been cooking, at least for themselves. Typically, they did not cook for the soldiers’ mess, unless they were being paid to. This must have been a difficult situation for the Continental Army: when women were present, it made excellent sense to assign them all possible non-combatant tasks to ensure the maximum fighting force. But could discipline be maintained? Not always, given Bridget’s temper.

A soldier and his girl. Henry Bunbury, ca. 1794. Lewis Walpole Library, Drawings B87 no. 8

A soldier and his girl. Henry Bunbury, ca. 1794. Lewis Walpole Library, Drawings B87 no. 8

Rolling back a bit and trying to consider the army’s structure and camp layout, what are the mechanics of handling rations for women with the army? How are they fed? And did it vary, unit by unit? There is probably far more variation than we credit, that will only be illuminated by careful attention to the documentary record. That means finding as many victualing rolls and returns as possible, looking for women. It means reading all the orderly books that can be found, looking for women.

The best secondary source I know for the Continental Army’s women is with Holly Mayer’s book, Belonging to the Army. (And I’ll admit I haven’t read it in two years, so it’s time to re-read it.) If you’re British, I’m not in a position to help you as much, but there is Don Hagist’s work on Women of the British Army. For a more granular understanding of women in all armies, you have to turn to primary sources, and what’s available varies from unit to unit, state to state. There is a handy index of orderly books,  and while these vary in their utility, they are a good place to start. In fact, the whole RevWar 75 site is useful (though it is not loading at the time of this writing).

Soldiers’ diaries and accounts are also useful. Jeremiah Greenman of the 2nd Rhode Island Regiment recorded his experiences throughout the entire war, starting in 1775, when he joined Arnold’s expedition to Quebec. There were two women on that expedition, attached to two different companies. While there is not a plethora of detail about the women, it is clear that they were strong and able, and in one case, more able than her husband.

Camp Life

21 Tuesday Jan 2014

Posted by in Laundry, Living History, Reenacting, Research

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The Jolly Landlady in Hyde Park. Paul Sandby, 1780. British Museum 1904,0819.622

The Fair Stationer in Hyde Park, 1780. Outline engraving by Paul Sandby. British Museum 1880,1113.1915

The Fair Stationer in Hyde Park, 1780. Outline engraving by Paul Sandby. British Museum 1880,1113.1915

Still wondering what to do in camp that’s not cooking or sewing? Technically, you shouldn’t be cooking if you’re a woman: that was a soldier’s job, though I recall seeing a reference to women cooking when all the men were pulled into the line during an engagement. A card file would help me, but for now, all I have is my scattered memory.

But if you’re tired of mending and making shirts (one of the most boring tasks, I find– all straight seams and very predictable), there’s more to do than laundry.

If the event represents a longer encampment, you could run a traveling coffee house or tavern. There’s the Widow Black in the Mid West, but I haven’t encountered this yet in New England. You could be a Jolly Landlady, or as the British Museum has it,  “a voluptuous lady stands in foreground to left, holding up a glass to a soldier on horseback.”

The Fair Stationer in Hyde Park 1780. Outline etching with watercolor, Paul Sandby. British Museum 1904,0819.576

The Fair Stationer in Hyde Park 1780. Outline etching with watercolor, Paul Sandby. British Museum 1904,0819.576

The Fair Stationer shows us Lloyd’s Coffee House and what looks like a carriage body on blocks, converted to a news stand. You could sell newspapers and writing paper, pamphlets and poem and songs. It’s an impression that would take a lot of thinking and research for the American colonies, but could be very interesting. the transmission of news and information and the transport of mail and packages presented challenges. How were they overcome?

I’m also struck by the number of dogs in Sandby’s images. If it’s not the same dog, over and over, I would guess that in the 18th century as in the 20th, soldiers had pets that traveled with them, both common soldiers with common curs and officers with hunting dogs. The camps must have been disastrously messy, with fatigue details to clean them.  We can’t have dogs at reenactments, but we could have more outraged sergeants. It’s hard, though, because to do these things well, you have to know and trust the people you’re doing them with (and that includes yourself).

Finding Bridget Connor

16 Thursday Jan 2014

Posted by in History, Laundry, Living History, Reenacting, Research

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Two washerwomen, one of the sketches made in Edinburgh and the neighbourhood after the rebellion of 1745 Pen and black ink and grey wash, over graphite. Paul Sandby, British Museum Nn,6.10.+

Regimental Orders, July 23rd 1782
At a Regimental Court Martial whereof Capt Francis is president, Briget Conner a Woman Belonging to the 10th Massachusetts Regiment was tried for purchesing a publick Shurt from a Soldier in Sd. Regiment found Guilty and Sentanced to Return the Shurt to the person from whom she purshest it and loos what She gav for the Shurt.
The Colo approves the opinion of the Court and orders it to take place Immediately

Regimental orders July 25th 1782
Bridget Conner a woman Belonging to the 10th Massachusetts Regiment is Directed to Leave Camp Between this and to Morrow Morning at Roal Call for her Insolence to the officers of sd Regiment on pane of Being Treated with Severity

The entries above are from the orderly book kept by Captain Stephen Abbot who served under Colonel Benjamin Tupper of the 10th Massachusetts Regiment. (This is a Continental Regiment, so the entry for the book in the holding library’s catalog is, um, confusing.)

The entries were sent to me by Mr Cooke as a place to start working on Bridget Connor (name confusion, it is Connor). I checked the Massachusetts Soldiers and Sailors of the Revolutionary War, and what did I find? Francis Connor.

Francis Connor. Where did he come from?

Francis Connor, in the middle. Where did he come from?

Francis Connor was in Benjamin Tupper’s (10th) Regiment. He enlisted on December 25, 1781, and was reported deserted on July 25, 1782, the same day Bridget is directed to leave camp. Do you think Bridget might be Francis’s wife? I think she might be, and I am inordinately pleased about it.

It is a sad but true thing that it is easier to find a man in the 18th century records than it is to find a woman. (See Jill Lepore’s new book about Jane Franklin Mecom.) But with a husband to look for, maybe I can find more about Bridget. And if I can find more about Bridget (and even if I don’t) I can start asking the questions that create a more engaging impression or interpretation.

  • Where did Bridget live before they joined the 10th?
  • Where was she born?
  • How old was she?
  • What did Francis (if he was her husband) do for a living?
  • Did Bridget work? (Probably- but at what?)
  • Why did she join Francis in the Army?
  • Did she have previous run-ins with authority?

I have guesses about Bridget and Francis, and even if I can find no more than what I’ve found, I can create plausible stories about their lives to make the past more real. For history, though, I prefer telling truths to making up stories.

“All sorts and conditions of women”

13 Monday Jan 2014

Posted by in Clothing, History, Laundry, Living History, Reenacting, Research

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Ever on the track of laundresses and working women, I came upon The Project Gutenberg EBook of The History of Modern Painting, Volume 1 (of 4), by Richard Muther. I was rewarded with  a laundress and a cook holding a spider. Daniel Chodowiecki, a German artist, seems to have been as drawn to the common people as Paul Sandby. The caveat of course is that is he German, so details may not always be correct for American interpretations (pinner aprons, for example).

Still, we have the classic washtub-on-a-table set up, and the laundress is barefoot, which makes very good sense, though my feet hurt just from thinking about standing barefoot on the stubble of the field at Saratoga.

Encampment of the Loyalists at Johnstown, a New Settlement, on the Banks of the River St. Lawrence in Canada, taken June 6th 1784, James Peachey.

Encampment of the Loyalists at Johnstown, a New Settlement, on the Banks of the River St. Lawrence in Canada, taken June 6th 1784, James Peachey.

Laundresses come with style, too, though I am asking myself, “Is that a fabulous hat, or is your head just in front of some balled-up, sleeping livestock?” Was is discernible is that her hair is down, and she is leaning on the washtub. The tent seams are also clearly visible, and she does have the iconic washtub on a table set up.

Encampment of the Loyalists at Johnstown, a New Settlement, on the Banks of the River St. Lawrence in Canada, taken June 6th 1784. James Peachey

Encampment of the Loyalists at Johnstown, a New Settlement, on the Banks of the River St. Lawrence in Canada, taken June 6th 1784. James Peachey

In another detail of the same image, we have a woman who is clearly wearing a black bonnet, tending a kettle on a fire. Here’s yet another piece of evidence for the three sticks-two kettles-no matches set up, and for the tinned kettles being left to get black on the outside.

What is she wearing on her body? There’s a white (or a least white-grounded) kerchief, and what looks like a grey or drab petticoat. But is that a short gown, jacket or bed gown? I’d say jacket, mostly because of the fit, but it’s hard to say at this distance. Whatever word you care to use, she’s wearing a reddish-brown garment fitted to her torso that appears to have a side-back seam.

Once again, tent seams are visible. This tent, just like the one in the other detail, also has some large off-white item thrown over the end. Could it be a blanket, out to air in the sun?

I do also appreciate the short blue jacket/white trousers of the man or boy to the left of the woman, since I know a guy who possesses those clothes and prefers trousers to breeches. He appears to be drinking from a cup as he carries a kettle, presumably of fresh water.

Encampment of the Loyalists at Johnstown, a New Settlement, on the Banks of the River St. Lawrence in Canada, taken June 6th 1784, James Peachey.

Encampment of the Loyalists at Johnstown, a New Settlement, on the Banks of the River St. Lawrence in Canada, taken June 6th 1784, James Peachey.

The entire view of the Loyalists’ camp is here, with a zoomable image. The drawing is full of details applicable to camp life interpretations, from women’s bonnets to fishing rods.

As I contemplate the troublesome Bridget Mahoney, I find the detail below of a solder and a woman rather pleasing.

Does she solemnly swear she is up to no good?

Does she solemnly swear she is up to no good?

Mummers Crash

05 Sunday Jan 2014

Posted by in Events, History, Living History, Reenacting

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Visards. chipboard, paint and ribbon

On Thursday, Mr S and I got an intriguing invitation from Mr Cooke: would we like to be part of a secret plan to create a disturbance? We are the sort of people who got thrown out of a mattress store just for asking questions, so we said yes. You’re invited to the best riot you know about, you say yes.

This plan involved crashing the Colonial Twelfth Night Party at the Major John Buttrick House in Concord. As mummers. In masks.

‘Mascara’, Givannbi Grevembroch. Venetian, 18th century

This morning, after some very cursory research and reading of the documents we were sent, I made our ‘visards.’ The form is based on the Elizabethan ‘visard’ shown here, and while that object is too early, it seems to be typical of the masks that persist, even into the 18th century.

In the Venetian carnival traditions, this round, black form is known as a moretta, held in place by a button the woman held in her teeth.

We were having none of that– I was supposed to make a ruckus, after all–so I opted for ties, which I sewed on despite the presence of a stapler. The basic form is an oval, 7 inches by 7 inches, but I would recommend cutting the forehead down if you will be wearing this with a hat or bonnet. (I had to trim Mr S’s, and should trim my own.)

Mr S borrowed my blue cloak, we both borrowed sticks for Mr Cooke, who had a very fine, knobby and thorny-looking shillelagh. In the kitchen of the Butterick House, we joined Mr C, Mr JH, and Mr GH to go over the plan one more time, and to try out our lines. Once we were gathered, we put on our masks, hoods, and visards/visages, and felt pretty creepy. Wearing a mask is very disorienting– you don’t look like yourself, but more importantly your vision is altered (especially those who couldn’t wear their glasses under their guides) and significantly limited. I wish I’d practiced a bit more, especially with the mask and bonnet combo’s bucket-on-my head sensation.

Mummer in the house.

We managed not to terrify ourselves but rather to compliment one another on our very fearsome and convincing appearances as rabble-rousing mummers. Mr JH gathered us up, and off  we went slinking out the door and to the street, where Mr Cooke and Mr FC began to sing. The two of them together made a fine and convincing racket, which I was only sorry that Mr S and I could not join (much to learn). We barged into the house and into the room where the very proper guests were gathered, and launched in.

Did I mention this was a secret? There were some confederates in the room, but the sedate civilians were caught unawares and were, according to reports, frightened. (Also very entertained, but also shocked.) A scene played out with the mummers begging for money, teasing guests, and generally causing commotion until the constable arrived and  read us the act prohibiting such behaviour. We protested each clause, but it was clear we had broken the law. Fortunately, the spirit of Christmas prevailed, and on this night before Twelfth Night, we were allowed food and drink if we would let the company alone. It was a happy conclusion for everyone.