Civil War At Christmas

This original 1863 Thomas Nast print shows a touching scene of Husband and Wife on Christmas Eve 1862. The picture is from the January 1863 edition of Harper's Weekly. This leaf is a stunning illustration and is over 140 years old!


As the war dragged on, deprivation replaced bounteous repasts and familiar faces were missing from the family dinner table. Soldiers used to "bringing in the tree" and caroling in church were instead scavenging for firewood and singing drinking songs around the campfire. And so the holiday celebration most associated with family and home was a contradiction. It was a joyful, sad, religious, boisterous, and subdued event.


"Snowy Morning on Picket" from Harper's Weekly January 30, 1864.

The final verse of a poem By the Christmas Hearth published in the Christmas edition of Harper's Weekly reflected the sentiments of many:

Bring holly, rich with berries red,
And bring the sacred mistletoe;
Fill high each glass, and let hearts
With kindliest feelings flow;
So sweet it seems at home once more
To sit with those we hold most dear,
And keep absence once again
To keep the Merry Christmas here.

Great Site with Info on Civil War and Christmas

http://oha.alexandriava.gov/fortward/special-sections/christmas/

Ball Room Etiquette

Ladies and gentlemen were on their best behavior in the ballroom. Manners were more formal, clothing was finer, and bows were deeper.

Men were expected to be extremely active in the ballroom to make up for the total passivity required of ladies; who could not ask gentlemen to dance, and who could not even be seen to cross the dance floor unescorted. Ladies would be conveyed to their station by a gentleman, and there they would wait until another gentleman came to speak to them, ask them to dance or convey them to the punchbowl.

"The gentleman should call for the lady whom he is to escort, go with her to the ball, escort her to the dressing room, return to join her there when she is ready to go to the reception room... engage her company for the first dance, and escort her to supper when she is ready to go. He must watch and see that she has a partner for dancing through the entire evening. Upon reaching home, if the lady invites him in, he must decline. It is his duty to call in two days".

"A gentleman should always walk around a lady's train and never attempt to step over it. If by accident he should tread upon her dress, he should beg her pardon, and if by greater awkwardness he should tear it, he must offer to escort her to the dressing room so that it may be repaired. If in the ball room a lady asks any favor of a gentleman, such as to inquire if her carriage is waiting, he should under no circumstances refuse her requests... well bred gentleman will look after those who are unsought and neglected in the dance".

Rules for the Ballroom
A man who knows how to dance, and refuses to do so, should absent himself from a ball.

Noisy talking and boisterous laughter in a ballroom are contrary to the rules of etiquette.

In a ballroom, never forget nor confuse your engagements. If such should occur, an apology, of course, must be offered and pleasantly accepted.

Always wear white gloves in a ballroom. Very light shades are admissible.

Usually a married couple do not dance together in society, but it is a sign of unusual attention for a husband to dance with his wife, and he may do so if he wishes.

Great care should be taken by a lady in refusing to dance with a gentleman. After refusing, she should not accept another invitation for the same dance.

"When gentleman are introduced to ladies at a ball for the purpose of dancing, upon meeting afterward, they should wait to be recognized before speaking; but they are at liberty to recall themselves by lifting their hats in passing. An introduction for dancing does not constitute a speaking acquaintance"

[Editor's note: ladies and gentlemen could not dance unless they had been introduced, so the hosts and escort spent much of the evening rushing about making introductions]

All the above quotes are from "Rules of Etiquette & Home Culture" 1886

For those born 1920-1979

Me Age 4 1968

FOR THOSE BORN 1920-1979
TO ALL THE KIDS WHO SURVIVED the 1930's, 40's, 50's, 60's and 70's!!

First, we survived being born to mothers who smoked and/or drank while they were pregnant.

They took aspirin, ate blue cheese dressing, tuna from a can, and didn't get tested for diabetes.

Then after that trauma, we were put to sleep on our tummies in baby cribs covered with bright colored lead-based paints.

We had no childproof lids on medicine bottles, doors or cabinets and when we rode our bikes, we had no helmets, not to mention, the risks we took hitchhiking.

As infants &children, we would ride in cars with no car seats, booster seats, seat belts or air bags.

Riding in the back of a pick up on a warm day was always a special treat.

We drank water from the garden hose and NOT from a bottle.

We shared one soft drink with four friends, from one bottle and NO ONE actually died from this.

We ate cupcakes, white bread and real butter and drank Kool-aid made with sugar, but we weren't overweight because, WE WERE ALWAYS OUTSIDE PLAYING!

We would leave home in the morning and play all day, as long as we were back when the streetlights came on. No one was able to reach us all day.And we were O.K.

We would spend hours building our go-carts out of scraps and then ride down the hill, only to find out we forgot the brakes After running into the bushes a few times, we learned to solve the problem.

We did not have Playstations, Nintendo's, X-boxes, no video games at all, no 150 channels on cable, no video movies ! or DVD's , no surround-sound or CD's, no cell phones, no personal computer! s, no Internet or chat rooms.......

WE HAD FRIENDS and we went outside and found them!

We fell out of trees, got cut, broke bones and teeth and there were no lawsuits from these accidents.

We ate worms and mud pies made from dirt, and the worms did not live in us forever.

We were given BB guns for our 10th birthdays, made up games with sticks and tennis balls and, although we were told it would happen, we did not poke out very many eyes.

We rode bikes or walked to a friend's house and knocked on the door or rang the bell, or just walked in and talked to them!

Little League had tryouts and not everyone made the team. Those who didn't had to learn to deal with disappointment. Imagine that!!

The idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke the law was unheard of. They actually sided with the law!

These generations have produced some of the best risk-takers, problem solvers and inventors ever!

The past 50 years have been an explosion of innovation and new ideas. We had freedom, failure, success and responsibility, and we learned HOW TO DEAL WITH IT ALL!

If YOU are one of them CONGRATULATIONS!

You might want to share this with others who have had the luck to grow up as kids, before the lawyers and the government regulated so much of our lives for our own good .

Kind of makes you want to run through the house with scissors, doesn't it?! !

The quote is by Jay Leno: "With hurricanes, tornados, fires out of control, mud slides, flooding, severe thunderstorms tearing up the country from one end to another, and with the threat of bird flu and terrorist attacks, are we sure this is a good time to take God out of the Pledge of Allegiance?"

Freeport 12.02.07

The next day after the Ear Muff Parade, I again found myself in the car and in period dress (no Farb either!) and headed to lunch at the Jamison Tavern. This tavern was built in the late 1700s.

I always find the reaction of those seeing us in period dress immensely entertaining. When I entered the tavern I got mostly stares from people. During lunch we had requests from a tourist for pictures. We rode in a horse drawn wagon around Freeport, again soliciting stares mostly.

A few asked of we were part of a local play. Another assumed we were caroling. My personal favorite was when a woman noticed the antique fur muff I was carrying to warm my hands. She asked what sort of fur it was suppose to be assuming it was fake. When I explained it was real fur and an antique she seemed taken aback.."You know some people would find that offensive around here" I did try to point out that it was an antique and that the animal had been dead for decades.

There is a saying..."Better period correct then politically correct" ....

With dressing I agree with this statement

(I don't agree with being disrespectful to African Americans or calling them the "N" word)

Ear Muff Parade

December 1st, 2007 I drove 70+ miles one way to walk in the Chester Greenwood Parade. This gentleman invented the earmuff and Farmingtom Maine takes great pride in this. So with 8 Soldiers (2 were Rebels) we walked in cold (17 degrees) and windy (15 to 20 mph with gusts up to 30 mph) with wind chill at a -10 degrees, weather ...How can we possibly do this you wonder? The answer is a word known to all re-enactors. FARB..

Farb is a derogatory term used in the hobby of historical re-enacting for participants who exhibit less commitment to historical authenticity (Thank you Wikipedia).

Now some events are strictly period correct, that is, those running the show may come over and note that you do not have hand stitched button holes...hence the term "Stitch Counters". Antietam was an example of a period correct (as far as the Third Maine was concerned) event.

Now 17-19 degree weather is not an event where as a civilian I can not have Farb...Oh yes I made a valiant effort to hide what I could, but alas it was there. The list included:
Fleece Socks, Ski Pants (under every petticoat I own), multiple shirts, a fleece lined jacket with a zipper and even the little pocket hand warmers. Ashley was no better. Oh well...it is a hobby

after all.

After the parade we did get hot chocolate courtesy of Matt B. Huzzah!

We even made the news (hope this link works!)

http://www.wcsh6.com/news/article.aspx?storyid=75786

A SOLDIER'S CHRISTMAS

The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,

I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.

My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,my daughter beside me, angelic in rest.

Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,

Transforming the yard to a winter delight.

The sparkling lights in the tree, I believe,

Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.

My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,

Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep

in perfect contentment, or so it would seem.

So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.

The sound wasn’t loud, and it wasn’t too near,

But I opened my eye when it tickled my ear.

Perhaps just a cough, I didn’t quite know,

Then the sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.

My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,

and I crept to the door just to see who was near.

Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,

A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.

A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old

Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.

Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,

Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.

“What are you doing?” I asked without fear

“Come in this moment, it’s freezing out here!

Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,

You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!”

For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,

away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts,

to the window that danced with a warm fire’s light

then he sighed and he said “Its really all right,

I’m out here by choice. I’m here every night”

“Its my duty to stand at the front of the line,

that separates you from the darkest of times.

No one had to ask or beg or implore me,

I’m proud to stand here like my fathers before me.

My Gramps died at ‘Pearl on a day in December,”

then he sighed, “That’s a Christmas ‘Gram always remembers.”

My dad stood his watch in the jungles of ‘Nam

And now it is my turn and so, here I am.

I’ve not seen my own son in more than a while,

But my wife sends me pictures, he’s sure got her smile.

Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,

The red white and blue… an American flag.

“I can live through the cold and the being alone,

Away from my family, my house and my home,

I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,

I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat,

I can carry the weight of killing another

or lay down my life with my sisters and brothers

who stand at the front against any and all,

to insure for all time that this flag will not fall.”

“So go back inside,” he said, “harbor no fright

Your family is waiting and I’ll be all right.”

“But isn’t there something I can do, at the least,

“Give you money,” I asked, “or prepare you a feast?

It seems all too little for all that you’ve done,

For being away from your wife and your son.

”Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,

“Just tell us you love us, and never forget

To fight for our rights back at home while we’re gone.

To stand your own watch, no matter how long.

For when we come home, either standing or dead,

to know you remember we fought and we bled

is payment enough, and with that we will trust.

That we mattered to you as you mattered to us.”

©Copyright December 07, 2000 by Michael Marks

Veteran's Day 2007

Veteran’s Day 2007
The Third Maine once again honored our Veteran’s by marching in the Portland Maine parade. Although the temperature was only 45 degrees, when the sun was shining and the wind stopped it was tolerable. As always I love to watch the boys march and listen to the fine and drums.

A Quote Worth Repeating

Associate yourself with men of good quality if you esteem

your own reputation, for 'tis better to be alone than in bad company.

George Washington

It's All Relative.....

Being a proper lady of the 1860's requires that I do not go to events with out an escorted.

A difficult problem when I Do go to events with only my children. Decency insists that a male relative accompany me. As a result I have had to create an extended "family" of males from the Third Maine.

My first "elected" relative was Pvt Dick C. He was kind enough to escort me down the main street of Camp Sylvia. Once I learned that the way I was holding my hand on his arm was very "familiar" he became a cousin!

The second relation was at the first Train Robbery. "Cousin" Steve made sure I was safe. Assuring me that we would survive the Rebel raid.When he was "shot" and "killed", Miss Vicky, a lady of succession, presented his revolver to me as his nearest "relative".

At September Storm, I needed a more convincing reason to be in the field. So my husband became an imaginary private. Pvt B is an elusive man. Always on duty...or in trouble.

I had to ask the Sargeant to break up the gambling session (above) in camp so that Pvt B would not gamble all his pay away.

He also doesn't do well with drinking, as a result he is always on picket duty. He always seems to be missing at roll call too....and getting into Mrs Marsha C's Tonic!

What to do with that Man!

Compliments

I was in my office where I have some pictures from Camp Sylvia on mybulliten board. A nurse came in, saw the Union uniform and startedtelling me about a great Union group she saw the Fourth of July inBath. She said the music and marching gave her chills....I was quite proud to inform her that it was the Third Maine!Awesome job Every One!!

A Spy at Willowbrook!

Willowbrook Museum is like a tiny town with multiple buildings. On September 15th, the Third Maine had their last encampment of the 2007 season. So to make things interesting I decided to be a Confederate spy. I even told Pvt Dick C that there were rumors of spys in the area. I tucked a letter to Rose Greenhow (a socialite from Washington DC who fed war secrets to the south), a letter From Rose and a map of the railroad system circa 1860 into my basket. Under the guise of being a member of the Maryland Bible Society, I entered camp and started asking questions about where the troop was headed. One Private told me they were going to Portland to the Train Depot. Trains I thought..... and proceeded to ask more questions about it. I didn't get too much info before heading to the next soldier. Finding no real info to feed Jeff Davis, I waiting until after lunch, informing (while out of 1860's character of course) 2 of the ladies present that I was a Spy trying to get caught. That I had clues in my book. Even with that no one thought to question my questioning. So I was forced to mail what little information I gathered to "Cousin Rose". I must have an honest face! Oh well, there's always next season!

Note the white basket on the porch, full of union secrets to be shared!

These guys & gals play awesome!

Important job here for the benefit of the union!

September Storm Part 5 Sunday

Thankfully morning came at last. It took me a moment to debate wearing my nicer heavier dress or the same, lighter dress from Saturday. The dirty dress won simply because it was cooler. Chef Bray spoiled us with Maine blueberry pancakes. They were awesome! Notice the
black skillet above? It is lovingly called Bertha and has been used to defend the camp again Rebels in the past.

The color guard posted the colors at the crack of dawn Sunday. After breakfast the boys readied themselves for the final battle of the event. "Assault of the Iron Brigade". So once again they geared up and marched out to the battle.

To get to the spectator area it took several minutes to walk. We ended up coming in from the end of the field where the Rebels had thier cannons.

I love this picture showing the both flags and the smoke ....


Rebels falling in battle. Then a final Cannon shot and miraculously they all stood up. Everyone applauded them!

Once the battle was done, we returned to the camp and packed up. It went very quickly. My brother-in-law picked me up and returned me to the RV. I showered, had a snack, then went to sleep for an hour. I was so tired when I woke up I was staggering!

When asked then if I would sleep in a tent again I said "no". But now that time has passed I am already looking forward to my next encampment ~Deb

September Storm Part 4 Saturday Night

Ok this was my first night ever in a canvas tent in a field of canvas tents filled with fun loving unwashed re-enactors. So this post will be full of whining and b&tching. If you don’t want to read either, go no further in this post.

I’ve told you about the heat. Did I mention the crickets? Hundreds of crickets, we’re talking plague of crickets all clinging to our tents...beds...floors...oh and my green dress. Twice I dug some out of my dress! By 9:30 at night I had washed up using my new canvas bucket and sat at the opening of my tent, soaking my feet and listening to a rowdy group several camps away singing period songs. They were very good and had I not been so tired I might have joined in.
Marsha and I had a nice chat (though short) and headed for bed. Now if anyone out there thinks that a cot is comfortable to a large person then they are nuts. I couldn’t manage to get comfy and after about an hour gave up and tried my sod cloth on the ground.... it had more room but was ...the hard Maryland ground. I can’t say I did more then doze at best all night and was thankful when 5:30 am came around and I could get dressed. At least my quilt was warm.

September Storm part 3, Saturday Evening

Right before Mail call, the troops were gathered, in the current state of undress and called to make judgement over a possible CS informant. It was quite entertaining for the soldier to try and explain a picture of a Southern Belle (Not his wife), a confederate flag, gold bars and a letter from a CS general. I don't recall if the man was hanged or not as the ladies were not consulted.



As the men cooled down, I seemed to get hotter! I peeled several layers off leaving my dress, corset, undershirt, bloomers and and thats it. A complete state of undress for a proper victorian woman. But I have to say I don't recall ever feeling as hot as I did around 5 pm that evening, despite the ice water and cold rags. As long as I kept sweating I wasn't going to worry. Amazing how heat makes you not want to eat. Despite the delicious meal by Chef Bray, I just couldn't. As the sun finally started to go down, the bite of the heat seem to go with it making the air tolerable. The Third Maine guys gathered their weapons and headed for the woods for some good old fashion skirmishes. With only four of us in camp chatting, we talked through the gunfire until it came closer and we could see the CS troops right near our camp. It was great to watch
but once again I wanted to join in!






Invasion of the Rebels!


With the troops skirmishing in the woods, there was bound to be a few injuries. First there was one of our guys (his name, I think was Joe?) who got a twig to the eye. Thankfully it popped out his contact lens and seemed to spare his eye. The second was Cpl Kyle H. Some one shot their musket less then ten feet behind him. The shot covered the 2nd Corporal's neck with powder! He remained deaf in right ear for hours with a headache and ringing of the left ear. Of Course I am not convinced that he also like the fact he couldnt hear me talk anymore!



The most grievous of injuries was that of the brave 2nd Sergeant Matt B. He was wounded in the woods finding a splinter in his hand on the knuckle. It was a horrid site, the pain, that redness. I asked that he be allowed to go to the nearest ER for a shower and some airconditioned rest, but no, alas the hardcore officers would not allow it so he was forced to suffer his injuries in silence.


A lot of Stripes in this picture....2nd Corporal Kyle H, 1st Sergeant Glen L and
2nd Sergeant Matt B.

September Storm part 2, Saturday Daytime

Saturday morning I left the comfort of the RV and headed the 10 miles to the event. It looked to be a hot and humid day in the making. I arrived around 7 am and greeted the Third Maine boys. It may sound odd, but when I look at them in uniform, I can't help but feel proud to be part of this group. They work so hard to be authentic and maintain a respectful and fun atmosphere.


Chef Bray, as always, works like a dog to get a decent meal ready for us. The Third Maine is so lucky to have him. After breakfast I was conscripted to meet someone with a lot of strips. He had Major in his title but something else too... I'll have to check with one of the boys. Anyway, All medical people were asked to do first aid/heat stroke duty. Because I am female, I was not allowed on the battle field despite the 90 plus heat. Women of 1862 just didn't go there. This is what I find the hardest about this hobby. I would prefer being in the thick of things, on the field if needed, If I was a male re-enactor, I would choose being a field surgeon, carrying my field kit into the battle. But I digress.... Our duty was to prepare an area to recieve heat casualties. So Mrs Cylik and I gathered ice, I went to the suttlers (again) and purchased a canvas bucket, we got plenty of rags and waited.

Somehow the call of the battlefield was just too much for me so I headed towards where I thought the troops would be. Over the hill and through the woods we went finding ourselves on the edge of the battlefield (before any battles started). I was able to take a few pictures but was already bright red with a sunburned face so didn't want to go to the spectator area in the full sun. While we watch, a gentleman approached us and explained that we need to move soon as the battle would end up where we were standing. Not wanting to go back through the woods, we headed towards a group of civilians. To our horror we ended up in the CS camp! Thankfully we could blend in as we followed a large group of Rebel soldiers back towards the sutlers and the mixed camp. Returning to the "ice stations" we waited.

Listening to the gunfire is an amazing thing. The sound of the cannons, the shouting of the men. I can't really imagine how it would have been for families living near battlefields. The fear and anxiety. The people of Gettysburg listened to the sounds for three days. Three days!

Our first arrivals to the ice station needed just cool wet rags to help cool them down. They were redfaced, sweating and dusty. One gentleman was kneeling on the ground, thinking he was in trouble I ran to him and doused him with a wet iced rag. Poor guy looks at me and tells me he was simply waiting for the privy. Sgt Lawson then called me, at the 17th camp site they had a heat stroke casualty. Quickly Mrs Cylik and I swooped down on the lad that was sitting in a chair. We iced him, got him on the ground and monitored his pulse.

I was rather annoyed that his unit would not allow us to remove his wool pants. Had he been in the Third Maine, common sense would have prevailed over modesty...so as a last resort we dumbed ice water over his groin area (normally ice bags to the Femoral pulse points in the groin would have sufficed). I am glad to report the soldier eventually recovered.

Our lads cooling down ...

September Storm Part 1 Friday

Gathering in the hills of Maryland, near Antietam, the Third Maine joined hundreds of reenactors to recreate the battles of South Mountain and Antietam. I arrived Friday, September 7th at around 5 in the evening. Already the mixed camp bustled with activity. Persons from as far away as Oregon where present. Needless to say after setting up my tent...thank you to those kind enough to take care of it for me...I quickly set up the cot and headed with Mrs Cylik to the Sutlers. What an amazing array of products. I visited them several times over the weekend and purchased more then I needed (typical woman??).

Someone told me that there was a civilian meeting at 8 pm. Unaware of the details, Mrs Cylik and I headed to the Civilian camp. There was an amazing tavern set up their by a nice family from Maryland. There we got a itinerary for that area. Upon returning to the Third Maine camp we discovered we went to the wrong meeting! We were suppose to be that the 2nd USV ladies meeting. Oh well....

I left around 9 pm that night and stayed in my sister's RV. Ok I admit it, I was a Ramada Ranger for the weekend. But I am girl how keeps her bedroom at 65 degrees and have a fan running! I still didn't get to bed until almost midnight.