I hope everyone
has survived the snow. Lynn and I are
starting to get tire of it.
Well, here we are
at the start of another new year. I
dont know where the time goes. A lot of
great things are going on with the Milice.
We had a good
time caroling at Kimmswick in December.
It got cold, but we pressed on.
We have been invited back for next year on Dec 8th. Mark your calendar. Donna Lybarger did a fine job of organizing
this past Christmas meeting and she has volunteered to do so again. She is looking into getting a room at the Old Log House Restaurant in Kimmswick so
we can have our annual meeting and go caroling in the evening.
The passing of
Dick Magan (Tall Pine Traders) on December 18th is noted with
great sadness. He was a very kind and
special person. His presence will be
missed. His wife Margaret lives at 436
S. Pine St., Centralia IL 62801.
Lynn Cornelius
has been working on a - year at a
glance - type calendar. If you have anything to add to it, please
let her know.
I have filed our
petition to remain a sanctioned unit with the Forces of Montcalm and Wolfe,
Inc. While going thru the Forces roster
I noticed we have fewer than a dozen members of the Milice who are members of
the Forces. I think it is important
that we support this organization. It
gives us contact with other units across the country. Elsewhere in this newsletter is a membership application. You also can download one from the Forces
website. (http://www.frob.net/forces/)
Thanks to Lyle
Cubberly and Tom Connor for planning a fine Frog Talk. This years event will be something to
remember. As a footnote, I was in touch
with Cleon Grover. He will be discussing
edged weapons. He said if anyone has a
foil, bring it. He might be able to get
in a few lessons.
If anyone is
going to Fort Toulouse, Feb 17-18, let me know.
Fort Ticonderoga
needs a head count for June 23-24. Let
Lyle know if you can go.
I remain,
Your Humble
Servant
John Mefford,
Capt.
Election
results (not, those, ours)
Captain - John
Mefford
First Sargent -
Gail Cornelius
Second Sargent -
Tom Connors
Secretary - Gary
Driver
Treasurer - Lyle
Cubberly
Board of
Directors
John Murphy
Jim Klein
Albert Ponciroli
**********
Whoops! Missed the deadline
date to report how the forces of France along with the Milice de Ste. Famille
did that fateful weekend in October.
It all started on the morning of
Oct. 12 when the gathering occurred at the Way Station along the main road
leading east. The members of the Milice that were able to meet “The Call to
Arms” that day were: Barb and Lyle, Dog, Mary and Russ, Shirley and Richard,
Stan and myself and later meet up with the Old Kentuckian, who also goes by the
name of the Old Gunner. Our travel to Fort Ligonier took us one and half days
arriving there mid day to such a sight that it is hard to explain by mere
words. The colors of the landscape surrounding the Fort were magnificent with
rolling hills, clear streams and huge trees that carried an abundance of color
running from magenta to brilliant yellows and right in the middle of all of
this was Fort Ligonier. Woo!!!
The “Call to Arms” was meet by many French units from all over the Pennsylvania area but our group from Illinois came the farthest, which is only right since the Milice de Ste. Famille fought there those many years ago. Our camps along with our mortars and swivel guns were set up below a rock outcropping, which hid us from the peering eyes of the English up in the Fort.
It was now the night of Friday
13th with a full moon which only happens once every 1000 years (per
my Sister-in-Law who knows these things) and we were all there enjoying every
moment. As I walked through the camps that night I noticed men tying branches
together to producing scaling ladders so that the first set of walls could be
breached for the battle the next day.
The first assault on Ligonier
started in the early afternoon with the Milice letting lose such a salvo of
artillery that it shook the ground we were standing on. The French Line looked
magnificent with all their flags flying and rows straight as they approached
the fort. Those scaling ladders were made ready by a small company of
French Grenadiers who fearlessly made
it to the outer walls under heavy musket fire and breached the English wall
with ease. All along the Milice was supporting the left flank of the French
line with heavy salvos of mortar fire, which added to the power of our soldiers
to drive the English horde from their positions and deep into their own fort.
During this engagement we were being pestered by an English wall gun that would
not take the hint to withdraw, so I turned to the Old Gunner and pointed toward
the pest. I then turned back to
loading. I heard a tremendous explosion and by itself shook the ground and
after that I never heard the wall gun again. But, alas we were unable to hold
this horde at bay due to their superior numbers, which they used to drive our
gallant soldiers from their walls.
The second assault was readied in the late afternoon
and was again lead by the Milice’s opening salvo of artillery fire, which was
not only deafening but also directed toward the English commanders hut with
great accuracy. Again our soldiers fought fearlessly and breached the English
fort but were driven back. We all retired in good order to our camps to
refortify ourselves and to determine how our attack should go the next day.
My idea was to present a gift on
behalf of the Milice of such value that even the English would not turn us
away. This gift of DON de DEW would be taken under a flag of truce to the
English Field Commander as a way to get access to their fort and determine how
they had positioned themselves. I asked
my GOOD friend Russ Wyatt to accompany me on this dangerous mission (Big Mistake). Let me try to explain………
As
I mention before, we all retired to our camps after the second assault and at
that moment I asked Russ to accompany me to the English camp as my aid so I
could present my gift to the English. This needed to get done right away before
darkness so we could reconnoiter the fort and get back to the French Field
commander with our findings. The plan was that Russ was to say nothing
but to observe the English fortifications and remember what he saw allowing me
opportunity to meet the English commander and exchange pleasantries.
Well, as we all know the plan
didn’t go as anticipated …… not only did the plan not work but we were put
under arrest and escorted under armed guard back to the front gate where we had
just entered moments before due to the insult that Russ had directed towards
the English commander, who I might add was also the commander of the 77th Royal
Highlanders. These insults consisted of: something to do about his Mother, head
on posts, dirty-filthy English dogs, invitation to the French camp to show what
we do with the heads of the 77th especially his first sergeant, and
why we wrap their kilts around the head post in a manner that show everyone
that the 77th fight like women. Let me remind everyone that we are
still in the enemy camp………… haven been
struck dumb at this time other then to groan loudly and to move toward the
front of the hut, so as to try to make my escape. Russell continues to hurl
insults to not only the English commander but also to his Aid de Camp and any
other Englishman that he saw. By this time a great
number
of tourists had gathered to hear what all the commotion was about thus seeing
both of us arrested and placed under arm guard being marched to the front gate
in disgrace. Thank God we came there under a flag of truce. But, oh no in
Russell’s mind (small that it is) this was not over yet and he had to give them
one last insult which started with YOU ENGLISH PIG DOGS and then he spit. I was
moving at a very fast pace down the hill toward the French camp to seek cover
even before the last insult was thrown knowing perfectly well that these
highlanders were nuts and could resort to anything. As you all know, I have NO
love for the Brits but I do cherish the blood that runs through my veins so
this is why I was trying to be somewhat nice to these dogs while we were in
their camp.
Now my good friends I must ask
you, is this the sign of a smart man or one that has wished a “Death Wish” for
himself? I know that Russell means well and he tries so hard to always put his
best foot forward but on occasion he not only puts his foot deep within his
mouth but also steps on his d###. I must say that this is one of those
occasions.
Once I made it back to camp, I
was able to compose myself with a little help from my friends. The old gunner
mentioned that I didn’t look well and asked me how it went up in the English
camp. I proceeded to describe this account to him as I am doing now. He began
to reel in his chair and thus started to rub his face saying, “Oh my God he
really didn’t say that!” and my response was, “Oh yes and more”.
As Russell had stated in the
last newsletter that he felt somewhat giddy as to the outcome of our
adventure.
I, too, could see his joy on his face as he came over to me with this BIG S###
eating grin and started to say something to me but at that moment I threw up my
open hand and stated “talk to the hand because the head isn’t listening”.
By Sunday all had been forgiven
even though I was still smarting from the embarrassment I had to under go the
previous day. We still remain GOOD friends but I know now that when you go on a
mission to promote peace and harmony choose your emissary wisely.
But, I must say that this event
was the highlight of my year and trust that the other folks felt the same. It
truly is a magnificent fort and I highly recommend to all of you to try and
visit Fort Ligonier whenever you get out to that area of the country. Marty
West who heads up the fort is doing a fantastic job there not only in
preserving this Historical treasure but also in the interpretation of what
happened there. He is a tremendous host and gave all of us full run of the fort
along with a 2 hr. tour on Sunday morning on what the plans are for the future.
A most memorable time……………
This report of battle is humbly
submitted to the Milice de Ste. Famille this day.
Your Humble Servant
John
Murphy
Frog Talk 2001, Tentative schedule:
Saturday April 21, 2001
Colors
First
speaker
Main
Speaker - Beth Gilgun
Lunch
Auction
Colors
Dinner
( at the fort, $8/person)
Duffies
Sunday April 22, 2001
Colors
First
Speaker
Main
Speaker - Steve DeLisle
Lunch
Round
Table with Steve and Beth
Times
are not firm as of yet.
Auction items are starting to
come in already. Remember to give your
donated items to Jim Chestney, Tom
Connor or myself.
Lyle
*********
Here
is a story that was printed in Muzzleloader magazine in 1989, written by Lyle
Cubberly.
It was on of those nights you
seldom get to see. The moon was new and
the sky was filled with stars…there were millions of them. You could pick out the individual arms of
the Milky Way. It was that clear. Tomorrow was the first day of hunting
season, and of course we were standing around the fire talking about past hunts
and stretching the truth in the right places.
Fred and I had never hunted together before, so all of our old stories
had new ears.
We were staying up at Jack’s
place, just north of Nemo on Elk Creek in the northern Black Hills of South
Dakota. Jack couldn’t get away for
opening day which was on a Friday, so Fred and I would sleep in Jack’s log barn
which was almost finished. The chinking
was the only major project left. The
night promised to be nippy, but not unbearable. The temperature would be in the 20’s, so the almost completed
barn would be okay. We decided to get
to bed early as we wanted to get up before 5 o’clock.
I had seen the many tracks of
the different critters that were around Jack’s place, but never had I dreamed I
would come face-to-face with one of the most ferocious animals, pound-for-pound
that ever lived in the Black Hills.
While standing around the camp fire we could hear way off in the
distance the howls of coyotes. There
songs were music to our ears, some were nearer than others, but they all seemed
to be getting closer.
We settled down for the night,
each doing the things you do before going to bed. We checked out our muzzleloaders to make sure they were ready for
the morning. My bedroll sure looked
good. The warmth of the fire had
quickly worn off and I was getting chilled, so I decided to put on my heavy
blue capote before rolling up for the night.
I also had on my Canadian hat which was trimmed in fox. Well, it didn’t take me long to go to sleep
once I settled down and got use to Fred’s snoring. The week had been a long, hard one and I was looking forward to
spending some time in the woods recharging my batteries. I went to sleep thinking of tomorrow’s hunt
and the big buck I was going to bring home.
The still night was shattered by
one of the most blood chilling screams I had ever heard. I was sleeping on my back, and I figured
that was the only thing that saved my life.
At the first cry of the attacking animal I came upright in my
bedroll. I was sleeping closest to the
door and was the first thing the animal’s red eyes saw when it came crashing
through the door. I couldn’t see what
was going for my throat. I had the
blankets wrapped pretty tight around me, and couldn’t move. But, I managed to get my hands up to my
throat with the blankets still wrapped around them. The animal was partially deflected upward and went to ripping and
tearing at my head. I managed to get to
my knees and with one determined blow I knocked the animal away from me and was
able to get to my feet. But, being the
blood thirsty killer that it was, the unknown animal renewed the attack this
time going for my legs. Well, all of
the noise of both the animal snarling and me
yelling finally woke up Fred. I
think I even tripped over him once or twice in the fight. Fred, not having to defend his life, was
able to get to his flashlight. By this
time the animal had all of the fighting it wanted for one night. The beam of Fred’s flashlight only caught a
glimpse of fur running through the door.
Fred managed to get the lantern going, and I just leaned against the
wall, shaking from the adrenaline still rushing through my veins. Once it was determined I was okay, we looked
at the damage the still unknown attacker had done to my clothes. My Canadian hat had a big hunk of fur
missing from it and the lower half of my capote was in tatters.
Well, you can imagine, it took
me a long time to get back to sleep. I
probably didn’t get another ten minutes of sleep the whole night. I laid there waiting for the animal to renew
its attack, this time with my hunting knife clutched in my hand. When 4:45 rolled around, a blurry-eyed
hunter greeted it. The days hunting was
a disaster. I didn’t even see a buck.
As for the animal that attacked
me? I never got a good look at it. The only things I have to remind me of that
horrible night are a blue capote that
has most of the bottom chewed off and a Canadian hat with some of the fur missing. But Jack says that he has seen the strangest
thing around his cabin – the cutest little Chipmunk wearing a real nice fur hat
and a blue capote.
*******
On Dressing the Part
By
Phil Jose
It was my recent privilege to participate in a roundtable discussion with George Neumann, noted collector and writer of things Eighteenth Century. Preliminary questions attested to knowledge of both amazing scope and depth. However, the pinnacle of that day came when he was asked, “Mr. Neumann, how did you start collecting?”
He told us of how as a child, his father would take
the family on marvelous annual vacations to historic places. He spoke of how
his father had read of the place and breathed life into a long-past event with
commentary. Epic battles and pivotal moments in history once more took part in
a common destiny that has since become our common heritage. He emphasized the
pricelessness of learning history in such a way, to understand our national
identity.
Mr. Neumann elaborated, telling us stories from his
own local history. He spoke of the New England of three hundred years ago and
Indian attacks, of swordplay and expatriate generals.
I watched as he told the tales. I saw a semicircle of about thirty reenactors, none of whom ever reluctant to voice their own views and outlook, sit there like awestruck schoolkids. The attention we paid him started as a mark of respect, but became a mark of our own intensity.
By the time he spoke of George Washington, that
attention was absolute. He spoke of General Washington, who, through the force
of his own character, forged a Continental Army from the civil population of
thirteen distinct and diverse colonies. With that army, and in spite of every
conceivable adversity, he forced the mightiest power then on earth from their
holdings in America. He spoke of President Washington, who took an assemblage
of political theories and ideals that at the time was the U.S. Constitution and
turned it into the form of government that posterity shall use as the standard.
He concluded with an admonishment. He warned us to
pass on the stories and to get our inheritors started in the process of keeping
our past vital. He wanted us to involve the upcoming generation in what we do.
In the silence and reflection that followed, I asked
myself what I could possibly do to make a start in such a worthwhile
enterprise. Some of the ideas that first came to mind seemed too small a
gesture: Taking five minutes away from visiting friends to answer questions,
forbearance when the questions are so very basic or so often asked, or taking
time to be a bit larger than life for the wide-eyed eight-year-old who’s just
told me that I “dress cool.” But then, small beginnings—for both student and
teacher—are still beginnings.
Sitting there, I realized that Mr. Neumann had also
reaffirmed an unyielding belief of mine, one that I shall proudly maintain unto
the grave: Good and great people make a good and great difference in this
world—not can make one, not should make one, but do make one. It is something we must
keep telling our children and grandchildren until it becomes conviction.
We must tell it for their sakes. They are the ones
immersed in a popular culture where nihilism and casual disregard for anything
but the present is the norm. They must be told so that they understand that
they are the recipients of something good and grand—an American birthright.
That birthright must be protected and nurtured to one day be passed down to
their own children. They must also know from the collective experience of our
heritage that today’s obstacles are not an ending, but a chance to triumph
tomorrow.
We must tell it for our own sakes as well. It is we
who are abandoning our heritage with every governmental diktat that we allow.
In our complacency, we have led a treasured way of life breathtakingly close to
extinction. If the conviction is deep enough, we can make our own difference.
I often think of the time I spent listening to Mr.
Neumann, and the lessons of that afternoon. As a result of the encounter, do I
ponder how to single-handedly preserve this country’s heritage whenever I wear
my historic clothing at an event? Of course not. I’m too busy looking forward
to seeing old friends and making new ones.
But I have noticed that now I stand just a bit
taller in them.
Copyright
1999, Philip Jose.
The book Lord Nelson
by Herbert Gimpel is about a true hero.
He may be England’s greatest naval hero. He lived from Sept. 1758 – Oct. 1805. He died on the quarterdeck of his sailing ship during a sea
battle against the French. He gave his
life a yet won his greats victory.
Horatio Nelson first went to sea at the age of 12, and he was promoted
to Captain at the young age of 20. He
was the youngest person to become a British naval Captain, and to this day, he
remains the youngest ever. Nelson was
in many sea battles. He was blinded in
one eye during one fight and lost an arm in another. He was killed in the battle of Trafalgar. This victory made England the supreme sea
power of the world and helped to ultimately defeat Napoleon.
Those of you that are fans of
the fictional British hero Horatio Hornblower may agree with me that there are
several similarities between the two.
They are both named Horatio.
Women were drawn to them. There
believed in better treatment of the common sailor, and they were loved my the
sailors. They were both great
heroes. An interesting final note,
Hornblower was put in charge of Lord Nelson’s funeral procession.
*
The move the Patriot was
well done. Parts of the battle reminded
me of the Battle of the Cow Pen.
So, I borrowed the book written by Kenneth Roberts from my son. I feel that the author is an outstanding
writer. He has written several books
about out time period. This is excellent. It gives the background of both sides and
thing the details of the battle. It is
a small book and well worth read.
Jim Chestney
******
Death of a Brazier
Russ
and Lyle a night they did spend
At
the Fort you see,
You’d
think they be twins.
They
partied all night, in the morn felt chill.
No
warmth for them you see,
For
the Brazier with his truck Russ did kill.
The
old Gunner
*******
I thank everyone that has brought me empty pill
bottles for the cannon, especially Bill.
I have all I need for now.
Thanks
Jim
Chestney
*******
Websites –
For all you Cooperphiles out there
Fort Ligonier
*******
I’m going to “down-size” my camp a little and try to
sell the marquee. It is a Panther
12x16. I bought it new about a year and half ago and it’s only
been set twice. It comes with all the
poles, ropes and stakes. All the side
poles are CCA 2x2’s. The ropes have
brass rings and wood slides. There is
also an extra side section that has
a stole hole insert in it…never cut or
used! The scalloped edge is the
“Washington” style and is maroon in color.
The tent alone costs $800 and that’s what I’d like to have for the whole
works. I may consider delivery if
there’s a cold beer and a sandwich involved.
Dave Wall700 Oak Bluff condos, Camdenton MO
65020, 573-317-0663, h2ocop99@hotmail.com
*******
I have been asked to pass this on to all French
Marine, Militia, Allied Sauvage, and British in the Illinois Country. I attended this event last year and thought
it to be one of the best events I have ever attended.
Bob Gill
Troupes de la Marine
Compagnie Franche de Fort Toulouse
THE TIME FOR BATTLE HAS
ARRIVED!
The war in the east is
beginning to get hot. A few weeks ago,
we heard rumors that the governor of the Carolinas, James Glen, has requested
of the crown to make an invasion on the French in the southwest. One rumor from a captured Cherokee stated
that a British division along with a company of rangers was already on their way
and should be in this part of the country sometime soon. Since we are located at the eastern most
post, our fort becomes the logical invasion point.
To further this burden,
Governor Kerlerec wrote to the Secretary of the Navy, that he had had a discussion
with a Frenchman who had been held captive by the Chickasaw for the past 3
years and had disclosed informatioin that both the Tombecbe and the Alibamon
posts were in danger from attack by both the English and the Chickasaw.
Then to solidify the intentions
of the Anglais, we hear from our Coweta brothers that Governor Lyteelton in
Georgia has begun sending out ranger patrols along the frontier. It is common knowledge that the Anglais have
traders in this part of the country.
The Okfuskee trading house in the north is a prime supply point for the
Anglais. Our Alibamon scouts and
hunting parties have actually seen evidence of the Okfuskee trading house
making plans for a supply b uild-up and recently they have seen sign of a group
of whites that were clearly not hunting.
So we suspect that the Anglais have some knowledge of our location and
defenses.
Therefore I am Making a Call
to Arms!!!!
The thieving and greedy
Anglais wish to do nothing but take this land for their own. They wish to turn the inhabitants into
slaves and wish to make our women into prostitutes.
Therefore on the weekend of
February 16-18, 2001, we will muster all our forces to drive these pigs into
their graves.
Chevalier de Lantagnac
Enseigne, Fort aux Alibamons
Please mark your calendars
and plan on attending. We will need
everybody as the English plan to show up in force. There will be a need for everybody, including whose who will
guard the fort and those who will go on ambush and search and destroy missions.
Come
prepared to eat and drink on the trail and possibly sleep in the woods. (Only
if you want to, of course)
There
will be a welcome meeting scheduled for the evening of February 16th
where we will discuss the rules of engagement and the boundaries of the
park. The tactical will go from around
7 am on Saturday morning to 12 pm on Sunday.
This should be a great and exciting time for all, so make sure you
attend.
If
you are not able to arrive on Friday night, please let me know. There will be some rules that will need to be
followed for those late arrivals. This
is for the security of the individuals who are already in place and for those
who need to get to their respective camps without hassle.
See you there.
*************
A 17th century
Swedish philologist claimed that in the Garden of Eden – God spoke Swedish,
Adam spoke Danish, and the Serpent spoke French. (From www.uselessfacts.com)