My first set of "thank you's" goes out to a few who play a very important behind the scenes role: if it weren't for Sally, Sheri, and Samantha from the 24th Michigan, as well as Shannon who works at Charlton Park, none of what you are about to read would take place at all. For it's through these ladies that I receive approval to take over the historic 1858 Sixberry House during the Civil War reenactment.
The busy ladies mentioned here know me well enough from past experience, and they know that we who use the house treat it with the utmost respect and care.
But it's not only what I do in the Sixberry House - these wonderful women help make the Charlton Park event in general run so smoothly for all reenactor participants, and have for years.
All of us who take part thank you for all of your hard work.
Second, it takes very special people to bring history to life.
I mean bring history to life!
And I am honored to say I have been blessed to work with and befriend the best!
First and foremost is my friend, Larissa, who will, a couple times a year, portray my wife during a reenactment. My real life wife, Patty, does not particularly care for 1st person very much and has given her blessing for the two of us to present history in this family way. Larissa's husband, Mike, does not reenact at all and also has given his approval, so given the fact that we are married to such wonderful and trusting spouses makes it very easy for us in our portrayal.
Then there is Larissa's mother, Violet (yes, her actual real life mother, and when Larissa plays my wife, Violet becomes my mother-in-law), who falls right into whatever role she may be given or chooses - especially as a grandmother to "our kids" - and through knowledgeable casual conversation greatly helps to bring the mid-19th century to life. And she does it well and willingly.
Another member of our organization, Jackie, joined in as part of our family by becoming my older sister, and she greatly enhanced our many discussions throughout the day. She can and does keep us in a period mode. And she does it so well!
And then we have Candy, our domestic servant. Candy has been portraying a servant for nearly a year now and has found her way and purpose as such and really knows the do's and don'ts of her life of servitude. And she can cry on the spot, should the need call for it.
The youngest living historian in our group, Sarah, had never experienced doing 1st person before this event, but you coulda fooled me! She fell into her role as our daughter quickly and comfortably and she played it perfectly - it was easy to see she has studied the role of a young lady's place during the Civil War and treated her elders - especially her, ahem, father - with utmost respect.
We also had numerous friends (whom you shall meet momentarily) come to visit and added greatly to our everyday life on the homefront scenario.
Enjoying a peaceful morning in our back parlor. |
One more thing before we get to all the photos and story:
A lot of preparation goes into bringing history to life in this manner. It would be nearly impossible to go into an immersion without knowledge of everyday life of the times. So we research.
And research.
And research.
We do our best to get a deeper understanding of the lives of those who lived during the time of the American Civil War: their manners and mannerisms, thought patterns and mindset, modes of speech, etiquette, and ideals. We study the tools & trades and how they would have played a role in our everyday lives. We learned about what it was like to travel, what kinds of seasonal food to eat, political turmoil of the time, about mourning etiquette, and, well, about our everyday lives in general. We have period-dress meetings multiple times each year to work exclusively on bringing these long-dead folk back to life in a non-Hollywood history way, and in doing so we try to turn off, as best we can, our 21st century thought process.
And besides utilizing the shared historical knowledge and being in an authentic period home, what helps us maintain the authenticity that we strive for is that we don't come out of our immersion; whether there are people around or not, we remain in the 1860's.
To help keep us in this frame of mind for Charlton Park are the notices I put up on a few different reenactor group pages on Facebook to notify participants of our plans in case anyone wanted to visit us:
Good day Everyone -
A few of us will be in the Sixberry House on Saturday. We will be portraying a
southern-sympathizing family and are planning to be in immersion.
We are asking our fellow (and fellow-ette) reenactors to act accordingly upon entering the house.
We would love to have friends come calling, and although it's not a *must*, we are asking any reenactors who do visit to act as if you entered our real home in the summer of 1864 and stay in period.
We will have a servant who will answer the door upon knocking, by the way.
Thank you!
To some this may sound silly.We are asking our fellow (and fellow-ette) reenactors to act accordingly upon entering the house.
We would love to have friends come calling, and although it's not a *must*, we are asking any reenactors who do visit to act as if you entered our real home in the summer of 1864 and stay in period.
We will have a servant who will answer the door upon knocking, by the way.
Thank you!
"As adults, you're acting like little kids pretending to play house!"
Yeah...I guess in a way we are.
But why should the kids have all the fun?
'Grown ups' need to have fun, too, or is our fun strictly limited to only "adult" things like card playing, going to the bar, or attending a sporting event?
That may be considered fun for many, but not these grown ups! In fact, we take our 'pretending' to entirely new levels!
At the Charlton Park event we had numerous reenactor friends who had never done living history/immersion/1st person before, and they were all coming up to us afterward glowing in how great an experience it was for them. A few said that was as close to "being there" as they'd ever been!
And isn't that what we are attempting to do, to get "there?"
With that being said, please allow me to take you on a journey through time and space - - - - - -
you are now in a farming community somewhere in Maryland...and the War Between the States is etching closer...you have entered---the Immersion Zone.
Welcome to our home here in Maryland. I had it built only a few years ago, back in 1858. |
We had some very serious (and very *real*) family conversations during our immersion. An example of a pretty intense discussion was one we had with daughter Sarah of her want of the frivolities of the finer things in life, including a new silk dress and bonnet, ideas which came about after visiting her Aunt Sarah (my first wife's sister) last Christmas in the big city of Annapolis. Her Aunt put ideas of living a grandeur life of silk dresses and bonnets into my daughter's head, and went so far as to be given, without our knowledge or consent, a catalog book of life's supposed finer things.
Our daughter, Sarah, joined us in our back parlor. |
Elizabeth read to us some of the advertisements listed in this "book of folly" she found in Sarah's room. Now we knew where our daughter was getting thoughts of foolish living ideas. |
Her insistence in wanting such fine things caused me to become most stern:
"You must get these foolish thoughts out of your head!"
"But Papa, I can wear a new silk dress to the local ball."
"Sarah, you know we have barn dances here, not balls. If anything, I will get you material to make a new work dress. That is much more useful than something as frivolous as a silk dress and bonnet."
"But Papa..."
"Another word and I will send you to your room to memorize bible verses!"
Meekly, looking down, "Yes Papa..."
To back me up, her mother read from The Mother's Book by Mrs. Child, which, in part, says "A dress distinguished for simplicity and freshness is abundantly more lady-like than the ill-placed furbelows of fashion. It is very common to see vulgar, empty-minded people perpetually changing their dresses, without ever acquiring the air of a gentlewoman."
Sarah thought about this for a moment and seem to understand. She then looked at Violet in hopes of lifting the mood and asked, "Grandmother, how was your journey here?"
And, thus, went our day. Very real.
Now, please understand that we also had some great laughs during this immersion experience, just as folks would have had "back then." At times we had tears from laughing so hard (to write it out would not be nearly as funny, so you will have to take my word that it was a real LOL moment!).
And we enjoyed hearing of the travel adventures of Elizabeth's mother and my sister, including how they needed to sit away from the window in the train car because of the sparks flying in caused by the steel wheels upon the tracks.
Then there is my sister.
We are a southern-sympathizing Maryland family, though my sister Miranda married a man who, after moving to Michigan years before the War, joined the Union army. She turned Yankee with him!
Miranda's husband was killed in the
summer of '63 and she has been wearing black ever since, though she is now in
second stage mourning and shows a bit of white on her sleeves and collar. My sister has struggled to
survive this past year but, alas, try as she might, she could not make it on
her own, so she has come to live with us. This makes for interesting
conversation, considering the differences in our loyalties between north and
south.
My sister Miranda photo by Lenore Jordan |
Aside from the constant bantering back and forth between Yankee sympathizer Miranda and the staunch supporters of the southern cause of Elizabeth & I, it was a pleasant afternoon, though sometimes the discussion became a little disconcerting to my mother-in-law.
One fun conversation, however, came when Elizabeth asked Miranda to tell stories of my youth. Of course, she had to tell of the time I went astray on the way to school one particularly cold winter morning. I sneaked over to the mill pond behind the gristmill and decided to slide on the ice. Well, I only got a few feet on it before falling through! Luckily for me, it was only up to my waist, but they had a heck of a time pulling me out! I knew if I went to school I would get the switch from old Mr. Chapman, and then another whipping after I got home. One whipping is better than two so I went straight home.
Yep - I got it good!
But only once!
Of course, I have my own tales to tell, like of the suitor, Mr. Bagley, who showed a deep interest in Miranda. Our father was well aware of this man and forbade my sister to be with him. Mr. Bagley came to our home late one evening and, in an attempt to get my sister's attention to secretly meet, threw pebbles at her bedroom window. Only it was not her window that the tiny rocks hit, but my mother and father's instead. You can imagine the look on Mr. Bagley's face when our father answered his call by showing his gun. Ha ha! Mr. Bagley skeedaddled out of there faster than a jack rabbit on hot coals! Father was none too happy and Miranda felt his wrath as well.
See? Stories can go both ways!
This is how our day in immersion went, with conversations and stories done much in the way we would imagine it may have actually been like.
And it was, simply said, a wonderful time-travel you are there experience for all involved.Hey - when you work with the best...
We lost our domestic servant, Agnes, to marriage last year - at least she married a local farm boy who also sides with the south - so we hired a new girl, Candace. |
A born and bred Marylander, Candace cooks up a fine oyster stew and crab meat. |
This day's dinner repast consisted of that fine southern-cooked Maryland ham, summer vegetables such as cucumbers and carrots, and fresh-baked bread from Candace's Prussian grandmother's receipt. |
Just look at what we saw outside our window! The War has come to our home! |
There is more to this photograph than meets the eye. Look up into the second floor window. What do you see there? |
Yes, young visitors felt safer spying on all of the excitement from Sarah's bedroom window. |
Our daughter's visitors were still at our home when all of this took place, and the fright - even though we were only "pretending" - became real. Remember when I said Candace could cry "on the spot"? Well, she did here, and it became all the more real for everyone.
Seeing the men form up was very disconcerting. |
Inside our house, we continued with our immersion, and you could actually feel the fright and helplessness. I commend all involved, for it was amazing.
The ladies sang hymns such as Amazing Grace and Nearer My God To Thee to help them to overcome their worry.
My wife suggested something more upbeat such as "Ol' Susannah," but nothing seemed comforting. They looked to me for guidance and I assured them that should there be a battle that we would skeedaddle into town. This war's history has shown the safest places to hide is either in the cellar, though ours is very small, or in town, for the soldiers do not shell a town where there are citizens. At least they have not yet.
"When should we leave?" the ladies kept asking me. I assured them I had no plans to leave the security of our home unless we were in imminent danger. My wife, still spying out of the window, asked me, "How much closer can the War be to be considered imminent danger?"
The ladies sang hymns such as Amazing Grace and Nearer My God To Thee to help them to overcome their worry.
My wife suggested something more upbeat such as "Ol' Susannah," but nothing seemed comforting. They looked to me for guidance and I assured them that should there be a battle that we would skeedaddle into town. This war's history has shown the safest places to hide is either in the cellar, though ours is very small, or in town, for the soldiers do not shell a town where there are citizens. At least they have not yet.
"When should we leave?" the ladies kept asking me. I assured them I had no plans to leave the security of our home unless we were in imminent danger. My wife, still spying out of the window, asked me, "How much closer can the War be to be considered imminent danger?"
It seemed the entire Union army was in our town! |
Shortly before the battle occurs at this event, someone will let us know beforehand so we can take part as scurrying citizens of the town. This year, Sheri, from the 24th Michigan, let us know in such a way that we could continue our time-travel experience by pounding upon our door frantically, which actually did startle our house guests.
I did not wait for Candace to answer, but flung it open myself, expecting to see soldiers wanting our food, only to find our neighbors, white as ghosts, urging us to leave and find shelter away from the area, for a great battle was truly at hand! We wasted no time in gathering a few meager items and fleeing our place of solace...our home. I made sure the doors were locked tight - no thieving Yank will enter my home if I can help it!As we hurried toward town we were told to hide between the houses, for the battle was actually taking place upon our village green!
The battles at Charlton Park are some of the best I've ever witnessed! Even my son has said he would put Charlton Park battles on par with those from national events, though on a smaller scale. They utilize the town and townsfolk in ways not found at other local events. Usually civilians will go out onto the grounds where the devastation takes place and help the wounded and cover the dead once the battle has ended. For some reason this did not happen this year - I'm not sure why, because it adds a realism not seen at most reenactments.
But what you will see in the next few photos are frightened people watching as the horror of war unfolds before their eyes right in their town and around their homes. Believe me, the fright you see is real in a sense that all participants had worked their 1860's thoughts into that mindset.
Is the fright real or imagined? |
And the line of men kept on coming, stretching seemingly for miles. Where does one go when your entire town is in the midst of such a quandary? |
It seemed as if the line of men went on forever. |
Candace was beside herself with worry. My wife tried consoling her, to no avail. |
And, in a very real sense, it was.
Obviously,
none of us would have been out in the open like this had it been an actual
battle with real bullets and all. I called these ladies out and positioned them
to try one of my "artsy" pictures. Maybe I can entitle this one
"Battle Bonnets."
As you can see by these photographs, the historic town of Charlton Park is used very effectively. |
Most "deaths" were very
well done and gave the presence of what the townsfolk may have seen in
Sharpsburg or Gettysburg, but on a much grander scale.
And the battle continued on, with more death and devastation...
The gallant southern men forged ahead, but their loss was many. |
Not pictured but did participate as visitors were Jeannie and Patrick messenger, two people who fall into a 1st person as natural as if they were living in the 1860's. They, too, added so much to our day.
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Let's take a look at a few other fun things that occurred at this Charlton Park event:
A pie auction! Yep---we enjoyed a homemade peach pie for dessert after our meal! |
A barn dance...in a real barn...with a real string band providing the music! (Yes, that's our Candace dancing with her beloved!) |
A fun series of what were initially innocent pictures that I took involved my friend Sheri. Sheri and her friend Brian were enjoying a simple conversation, and the scene just looked to be almost like a painting. That is, until someone yelled out that it looked like Brian was proposing:
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And there you have it - our time at Charlton Park in July of 2014. It was, perhaps, the best one I've participated in yet. One has to wonder when the "best ever" feeling ends, for I see no signs of that happening at all. Not at events like this!Until next time, see you in time.
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