At recent School of the Longhunter, local farmers answer to beat of recruiter’s drum

It began with a broadside nailed to the side of the fort:

TAKE NOTICE

In accordance with the Virginia MILITIA Acts as set forth by the Provincial Council and Committee of Safety

the MILITIA shall muster at Captain Jacob Prickett’s Fort and adhere to the following:

Resolved:  1. That the several County or (where there is no Conty) Township Committees do transmit the names of all the Militia officers chosen with in their respective Districts to the Provincial Congress, or the Committee of Safety, to be by them commissioned, agreeable to the directions of the Continental Congress.

Resolved:  2. That all officers above the rank of a Captain, not already chosen or appoiinted, pursuant to an ordinance of this Congress made at the last session, be appointed by the Crongress or, during their recess, by the Committee of Safety.

Resolved:  3. That each man shall with all convenient speed furnish himself with a good musket or firelock and bayonet, sword or tomahawk, a steel ramrod, priming-wire and brush fitted thereto, a cartridge-box to contain twenty-three rounds of cartridges, twelve flints, and a knapsack, agreeable to the direction of the Continental Congress, under the forfeiture of two shillings for the want of a musket or firelock, and of one shilling for the want of the other above-enumerated articles;  also, that every person directed to be enrolled as above shall, at his place of abode, be provided with one pound of powder and three pounds of bullets of proper size to his musket or firelock.

God Save these UNITED STATES.

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Accordingly, when a sufficiency of local farmers had assembled at the fort, they were marched into position …

. . . and assembled in front of the Company Clerk, and the Physician in attendance, Mr. A. Roberts  . . .  

the Company Clerk & Mr. Roberts, the attending Physician

a view of the Company Clerk's desktop

 . . .  When all were in readiness, Capt. Kobuck began his inspection of the prospective recruits . . .

. . . in particular noting that each man, as specified in the Broadside distributed by the Provincial Council and Committee of Safety, should have on his person the following items: a good musket or firelock and bayonet, sword or tomahawk, a steel ramrod, priming-wire and brush fitted thereto, a cartridge-box to contain twenty-three rounds of cartridges, twelve flints, and a knapsack . . .

Capt Kobuck was assisted in his inspection by a non-commissioned officer who examined each recruit from the rear, to see that knapsack and other required articles were present and in good order . . .

. . . And whenever a man should be found lacking in any of the required articles, his name was called out, the missing article identified, and the amount of the man’s fine specified.  On the whole the men were reasonably well-equipped, but for several the muster proved an expensive undertaking . . .

Once Capt Kobuck has finished his inspection of the men for equipage and general deportment, Mr. Roberts commences an inspection of the men in regards to their general health . . .

. . . here Mr Roberts satisfies himself that the recruit is in possession of a servicable trigger finger . . .

. . . and here Mr Roberts instructs the recruit to squeeze his forearm so that he may ascertain the strength of the recruit’s grip . . .

Moving down the line, Mr Roberts peers into the mouth of a recruit to ascertain the condition of this teeth . . .

. . . and here the doctor pauses to enter several notes into his book.

Among the many presenting themselves to the recruiting officer at Pricketts Fort that day was the redoubtable Mstress ‘Mad Anne’ Bailey.  She describes the circumstances of her enlistment in her journal, thusly:   

Upon review of the good Doctor, the vast majority of the assemblage of men were proclaimed fit for service, though Mstress A. Bailey caused a pause in the questioning and requested proof the Good Doctor was fit to conduct such examinations upon herself. Upon which time the Doctor presented a document writ in the hand of the very doctor who had trained him up. Once so proven, your friend Mstress Bailey was approved for service as spy and scout within the company.

Shortly thereafter, as it chanced, I found myself sitting next to Mstress Bailey, in the vicinity of three gentlemen seated by the fire.  When I asked Mstress Bailey if she were acquainted with aforesaid gentlemen, she looked directly at them and said, in no uncertain terms, “I see no gentlemen.”  She then proceeded to relate that the lacklustre slouch in the middle was one Gnarly Brown, an itinerant tanner of dubious renown, while the languid layabout reposed on Brown’s left was one Mark Baker, about whom Mstress Bailey would say only that he was regrettably ‘teched’ in the head, and was known to prattle on endlessly & incomprehensibly about noble savages, ‘Natural Man’, Natty Bumpo, Lord Byron, Rousseau & Fess Parker, & some poor old befuddled Oxford scholar named Mingo wandering through the wilds of Kentucky, all tangled up with sundry other matters of no meaning & no consequence.  Above all, she warned me that under no circumstances was I to partake of the sour-smelling slop that he was stirring in his pot, saying only that it would poison me slowly but surely and that, after a night of unspeakable anguish, I would ere dawn be well and truly dead.  Then, casting a glance of pitying dubiousness in their direction, she hoisted her bedroll & firelock and departed.

For my part, I sat awhile longer, and decided to speak my mind to the threesome.  I told them plainly that I bethought them the three greasiest appearing gentlemen in the entire encampment, at which Mr Baker, under the mistaken impression that I had pronounced them not The Three Greasiest, but rather The Three Graces, was so delighted at this unexpected designation that, in a fit of reckless benevolence, he announced that I must, by all means, stay for supper, and before I could protest that I had a sudden life-or-death appointment elsewhere, he began fishing into his malodorous steaming pot with a long-handled spoon . . .

To my dismay he dumped a reeking heap of grey-colored broth and lentils and a few short ribs of buffalo onto a trencher and handed it across to me with a benign grin.  Eat up!   he urged.  There’s plenty more!   In spite of dire misgivings, having gone without sustenance since early morning, I determined to hazard a bite of the buffalo.  It was like India rubber, impervious to every assault, regardless of angle.  All the same I chomped and gnawed until, giving my clamped jaw a particularly violent wrench, I managed to loosen an incisor.  Grimacing with pain, I dumped broth & bones into the fire, which hissed and sputtered in indignation.

It was time to move on.  I thanked my hosts for their matchless hospitality and made my way out of the fort by the shortest possible means.  Though I had barely swallowed a mouthful of broth, I could already detect its evil workings.  It was time to hit the highway and locate a tavern.  The only cure for such poison was a long pull of whiskey.

~~~~~

Postscript:  Very shortly after posting the above article, a missive arrived from Mstress Bailey, in regards to Mssrs. Brown, Baker et al, otherwise known as The Three Greasiest…, or, if you will, The Three Graces.”   Madam writes:

Dear Sir, I am in receipt of your recent letter, twas a pleasure to read your perspective of our time spent in the fort.

Regarding the Three Graces. They, by all rights aught to have been pressed into service, as disagreeable as they are, Sir. Men of fighting age, no matter their stench, mental faculties or pusillanimous nature, are desperately needed in the fight! I fear the laziness of their countenance shall result in additional layabouts, loafers and lowlifes scrounging about the fortyard.

I beg to request, Sir, in future, a stronger call to service upon our next assemblage, with dire consequence should such untenable creatures again fail to present themselves.

On behalf of widows, orphans and the aged, I remain
Your Humble Servant,
A. Bailey