My Journey to Saratoga
October 2002
Mike Connolly
It was raining mercilessly as we drove up the Jersey Turnpike
on Friday morning. We had plans to visit Saratoga National Historic
Park by three, then move on to camp by five or so. But with the
rain, we figured we'd be lucky to make camp by six. And I was
not relishing the idea of setting up a tent in the dark during
a rainstorm. The weekend was starting off poorly. Rain was in
the forecast all weekend. Although I didn't tell Tracey, I was
afraid the weather might keep reenactors away from the event.
It turns out I didn't need to tell her she was quietly thinking
the same thing. This event might be a huge bust.
Shortly after reaching the NY State Thruway my cell phone rang.
"Hello?" It was Jim Perry. He was in the midst of packing
for the weekend and wanted to know how we were doing. After much
cursing about the torrent that some angry god had unleashed upon
us, we agreed that he and Glenn would call me when they arrived
in camp that night around nine or ten. They were coming up together.
Since they were arriving late, I was to attend the officer's meeting
that night at seven fifteen. Glenn was a company commander in
Ten Broeck's Division, and he asked me to be First Sergeant. Not
knowing what exactly a First Sergeant did, I agreed. Big mistake.
The trip, and the rain, continued uneventfully. We finally reached
Saratoga National Historic Park around 3:30. The rain let up as
we pulled in, and park admission was free this weekend due to
the 225th anniversary sweet! Things were looking up! After
a quick trip through the visitor's center, we dropped a donation
in the box by the door, and set out for a driving tour of the
battlefield.
We met some other reenactors at the first stop on the tour. We
chatted for a while and they told us we had just missed a couple
of modern British officers that were talking with them about the
British strategy of the first battle. Apparently they were from
the modern version of one of the regiments that fought at Saratoga,
and were here to attend the event.
We continued our tour through the large park, stopping at various
monuments including one to Ten Broeck and the Albany militia,
before finally reaching what I really wanted to see The
Boot Monument. The Boot Monument is a marble monument to Benedict
Arnold. The interesting thing about this monument is that is doesn't
mention Arnold by name there is a law in the U.S. that prohibits
carving the name "Benedict Arnold" in stone or casting
it in metal. So instead, there is a painted sign nearby that basically
says, "that monument over there is for Benedict Arnold."
We finished up at the battlefield, and jumped in the car for
the short trip to camp. We were on back roads now, and needless
to say, we got lost. But we weren't alone the driver of
the car behind us, with telltale tent poles strapped to the roof,
was as confused as us. We turned around, tried an alternate route
and found the road we were looking for.
We breathed a sigh of relief as the camp came into view. And kept
coming into view. And kept coming into view. Whatever doubts we
had about the turnout for the event immediately disappeared. The
camp was huge a mass of white canvas stretched out before
us. Hundreds of people were busy setting up camp. And this was
just the American camp. This was going to be cool!
Pulling in and unloading went quick it was well organized.
We quickly made friends with our neighbors a couple guys
from a New York regiment and we had our tents up in no time.
After moving the car, it was time for the officer's meeting
where was it? No one seemed to know. I crashed an officer's tent
and realized I just missed the meeting. I was to bring Glenn to
the Division Commander's tent later on.
Off to dinner at a nice restaurant in a renovated blacksmith shop
in town. Stew and beer. Mmmm. Just what I needed on a damp raw
night.
Back to camp not much to do except get out of the rain and
wait for Jim and Glenn. It was 9:30, so the wait shouldn't be
long. I fell asleep. I woke up at 11:00, checked the cell phone...it
was on - no messages. I called Jim. "We just arrived. . .just
pulled into camp." I went to meet them. They pulled up right
behind my tent. It was raining. We were not setting up their tents
tonight. Hopefully, their front seats would be comfortable.
Off to the Division Commanders tent where the liquor was flowing
and had been for awhile. . .it's good to be an officer. Or so
I thought. I introduced myself as the First Sergeant. They all
looked at each other and burst out laughing. Not a good sign.
I soon found out why...
"7 am?!?! You've got to be kidding! No way am I getting up
that early! Then I have to take roll in the street?!?! Then I
have to find guys to "volunteer" for guard duty?!?!
Before breakfast?!?! Fill out paperwork too?!?! Both days?!?!"
Glenn's life expectancy was decreasing with each new duty I received.
This was NOT going to be cool.
Time for bed. 7 am will arrive far too quickly. Tracey was sound
asleep in the tent. I couldn't fall asleep "I can't
believe they want to post guards by 8 am the public doesn't
arrive until 10!" Sometime around 1 am I fell asleep.
5:50 am. Saturday.
EEEKKK. EEK EEK EEK EEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKKKKKKK gurgle gurgle rumble.
What the hell was that!
EEEKKK. EEK EEK EEK EEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKKKKKKK gurgle gurgle rumble.
What is that! Is that a rooster? Is that a &^%@#*& rooster! *&^@#&^!! (*^@#$*&^!! It's not even six o'clock! *&(^#$(*&#^$!
EEEKKK. EEK EEK EEK EEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKKKKKKK gurgle gurgle
rumble.
Where's my bayonet?
EEEKKK. EEK EEK EEK EEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKKKKKKK gurgle gurgle rumble.
We're having chicken for dinner. So help me, we're having chicken!
This wasn't the type of free- range rooster that is indigenous to upstate New York farms. Oh no. Some nut brought this horrid creature with him on purpose. It was in a wooden cage and left it in the tent behind ours! Of course, the offending individual was not sleeping in the tent and probably was nowhere to be found. I guess in theory, having a gamecock in a camp could be a neat thing for the public to see. But in practice, it's not the best way to endear yourself to your fellow reenactors.
The bird continued to squawk until it was time to get up. I managed to take roll, although I didn't have much luck with volunteers for guard duty. No one had much enthusiasm for it not even the officers imagine that! I completed my paperwork and we began the day. My duties weren't that bad so, being a magnanimous fellow, I decided to grant Glenn a pardon. We drilled, we marched, we stood around in formation. It was damp but not raining. We had lunch.
We had one of the best battles ever.
Then we were issued rum rations by our commander. It was to celebrate one of the finest performances on the field that any of us had ever seen. Ten Broecks was a HUGE group of men, working together extremely well. From all accounts, we looked awesome! Ten Broeck's was one of the finest divisions out there. It was a great afternoon.
Dinner was great courtesy of Jim Perry. Saturday night there was dancing and drinking at a barn party behind the British camp. We met a lot of people there that we knew from outside the BAR and Outwater's, including our friends from the Cecil County Militia. Then back to camp for continued revelry with the 3rd Connecticut who formed up with us that afternoon. They brought some homemade cider with them, which we all enjoyed immensely. Soon it was time to turn in. We had it all to look forward to again on Sunday. It had turned out to be a GREAT weekend!
6:20 am. Sunday.
EEEKKK. EEK EEK EEK EEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKKKKKKK gurgle gurgle rumble.
Well, maybe not that great. . .
We cook a rabbit...and a chicken!
Remembering The Hero of Saratoga
The Sign Leading to the Boot Monument
"While Morgan's Light Corps, the 5th and 6th Massachusetts
Continentals and other American troops attacked the Breymann Redoubt
from the front, the intrepid Benedict Arnold without a command
of his own joined a handful of Americans in a daring assault
from the rear. Near this spot Arnold was shot in the leg. The
nameless "Boot Monument" symbolizes his bravery as well
as his subsequent treason."
The Boot Monument
"In Memory of the most brilliant soldier of the Continental
Army who was desperately wounded on this spot, the sally port
of BURGOYNES GREAT WESTERN REDOUBT 7th October 1777 winning for
his countrymen the Decisive Battle of the American Revolution
and for himself the rank of major general."
RECEIPT FOR CAMP OR KITCHEN
(From "At The Hearth, Early America Recipes" by Mary
Sue Pagan Latini)
ROASTED APPLES
Great for breakfast or a fall dessert.
Mix _ cup butter, _ cup sugar, and _ teaspoon of cinnamon together.
Partially core cooking apples and spoon some of the above mixture
into the hollowed core. Arrange apples in a pie pan. Set the pan
in a preheated Dutch oven, cover and place oven on a bed of coals.
Pile coals on the lid. Bake about 30 minutes.
You can also use a tin apple roaster if you have one. Set the
apples in the roaster and place in front of the fire. Turn them
when they have browned. The apple drippings will collect on the
roaster bottom. Save these to spoon over the apples. Or serve
with cream.
BACKBONE WITH DUMPLINGS
Glenn cooked something very similar to this authentic camp
meal at the Red Mill event this year.
DUMPLINGS
Mix 2 cups flour, 4 teaspoons baking powder, 1 teaspoon salt,
and 1 cup milk into a dough. With a fork and spoon drop the dumplings
into the backbone pot.
PORK BACKBONE
2 lbs. fresh or salted backbone, fresh ground pepper, pod red
pepper, 1.2 teaspoon sage (fresh or dried).
If using salted meat, wash several times in cold water. Put the
backbones, salt peppers, and about 1 gallon of water in a kettle.
Hang kettle from crane above fire.
Cook until meat is done and falling from bones, and water is reduced
to about half. Add the sage and cook for a few minutes to mingle
flavors.
Drop dumpling mixture in pieces about the size of a walnut into
the boiling backbone pot. Cover pot. Let boil rapidly for about
10 minutes without uncovering the pot.
Serve with plenty of hot cornbread.
© 2004 By Outwater's Militia. All rights reserved.