Rogers' Return to the Fort at No. 4
|
|
Background: In addition to the normal event this weekend of Rogers' Return from the St. Francis raid, Fort 4 was also hosting a special event of Pickpockets, Rogues, and Highwaymen (or something like that) with a number of characters having too much fun. Click here for pictures. Friday the 27th A fine sunny day quickly turned chilly as the sun disappeared behind the mountains, and everyone threw on an extra layer of clothing or crept nearer to the fires to warm ourselves against the creeping cold. Craig and Jenni Villeneuve had already arrived at #4 that afternoon, and I joined them not long before sundown. Craig was in the role of Constable for the evening, so Jenni and I visited and enjoyed a brief horse and wagon ride around the fort perimeter. The fort itself was abuzz with the activity of the weekend's main event, Pickpockets, Rogues, and Highwaymen, which proved to be a very eclectic gathering. A variety of colorful characters enlivened the evening—a fortune teller, a beggar woman, the local idiot, a casketmaker, and the ragged pirates, who were hugely popular with the children. Visitors and reenactors huddled around the snapping bonfire that evening to thaw our bones, while the pirates harassed all. Fireworks later streaked across the sky. Thankfully, Craig and Jenni spied the sparks from the fire that had leapt into my hair and quickly patted them out before I too went up in flames. We were soon joined by Sean and Sarge (Paul Stevens), and as the public drifted away from the bonfire's glow, we hauled our gear into Hastings House, thankful not to have to bed down in the cavernous and cold Great Hall as we had previously thought we would. Sean Stevens and Med Chandler (formerly two of the best Indian reenactors but now two fantastic pirates) provided entertainment with drumming and singing until their voices grew too hoarse to continue. Throughout the evening, we kept our eyes on the beautiful clear skies, as we heard talk of possible aurora borealis sightings (never did see any northern lights, but one cannot be disappointed with stargazing at #4). Plenty of fireside chatter and Sarge's close encounter with a skunk kept us animated until someone's timepiece read past one o'clock in the morning. We all slowly dragged ourselves to bed, and I was happy to have my spot close to the fire. Despite the cold air and the fire expiring sometime in the night, everyone claimed to have stayed sufficiently warm. Saturday the 28th We awoke to a bright, crisp morning. With no officers' call or drills to interrupt the first half of the day, we drew ourselves around the fire once again and discussed an incredible range of topics. Sometime during the course of the morning, John Santos arrived to join our party. Either guilt or a sudden remembrance of the world beyond the sturdy walls of Hastings House finally caused us to stir and inquire after the day's schedule. While the weekend's focus undoubtedly revolved around the other event, the Rangers had an important role to play in reenacting the return from the raid on St. Francis. Around noonish, Craig, Sarge, Sean, and I eased in the boats awaiting us at the dock. Jeremy Valentine and Sarge guided one craft out of view, while Craig maneuvered another boat carrying me and Gregg Chaplin. Imagine our amazement when we noticed Sarge rowing with great effort yet standing completely still. Sarge quickly discovered that rowing in water is much easier than rowing in sand and muck, and they were soon on their way once again. We then aimed the boats back toward the fort dock, now placing ourselves in character. Shots should be fired to signal our arrival, so Gregg asked me to shoot the blunderbuss. Only too happy to oblige, I let loose a thunderous boom that echoed across the water. Upon returning to shore, we were reminded to look hungry, look bedraggled. Even Oscar-winning performances could not adequately impress upon us the true feeling of the hardships those Rangers endured that October in 1759. How could we—well-nourished, among friends, pampered by the modern conveniences of the twenty-first century—ever begin to imagine how that original scene played out. The awful howling of the wind, cold rain soaking through torn and filth-encrusted garments, the fist of hunger in one's shrunken stomach, the ever-present fear of pursuit, and the wilderness and death's cold hand. For better or for worse, such thoughts did not plague us, at least not for long, on such a fine day spent with friends at the fort. Dedicated thespians that we are, however, we put forth our best efforts for portray to the public and to our fellow reenactors the scene we were present to recreate. Jenni came to the aid of her husband once our motley band came ashore, and she also provided me with sustenance once back at the Fort. George Bray, who I met for the first time, acted as Major Robert Rogers in the absence of our own good leader. Sarge played the wounded Capt. Ogden. After an unsuccessful cauterization back in Hastings House at the hands of the doctor, Capt. Ogden expired. Geez, he sure did make an awful lot of noise before he went though! Paul was bucking for Best Actor. Soon afterward, the trial of the real Lt. Stephens unfolded in the courtyard. A reenactor unfamiliar to us portrayed the despised Lieutenant, who had been ordered by General Amherst to take provisions north to Wells River, Vermont, in the event Rogers and the Rangers would return from St. Francis by that path. Stephens, however, waited only two days then departed only hours before Rogers returned to the very spot. He left the starving Rangers without sustenance. For his actions, Stephens was court martialed. If looks could kill, we'd have sent him to his death with our glares of hatred. On a more pleasant note, Dave Shaw had joined us during the course of the afternoon. He quickly got into the circus-like spirit of the weekend and adopted John's pet skunk (okay, in actuality a skunk pelt John uses as a tobacco pouch) to entertain the visitors. You'd be amazed at how many people Dave and John were suckering. By late afternoon, reports reached our ears of cars lined up at the fort entrance, and people began to swarm the various houses. The doctor who set up his ghoulish practice in Hastings seemed very popular. Our small party, made all the more pleasant by our friend Tim Cordell and his wife, Diane, decided to exit the now-cramped fort and make our way back out into the courtyard. Sean was recruited for guard duty at the south gate, while Sarge and I received the task of guarding an accused thief, played by Wayne Mitchell. Activity in the courtyard increased as Jon Soule et al. entertained everyone with a series of mock trials amidst much laughter. As on the previous evening, we were treated to a bonfire and fireworks. By the time the public departed, everyone had declared the event a great success. While not wishing to put words into the mouths of my companions, I believe I would be safe in saying we had a fine time doing something a bit out of the ordinary. In contrast to the desperation and suffering of the return from St. Francis, it was nice to be reminded of the warmth of friendship and the many ways our lives are blessed. 'Til we meet around the fire. YHOS, Kristin McMillan Lunak |
 |