"Chief Joseph Brandts field..." or Living Between Worlds

     I think one of the great things about our hobby is the way in which we as reenactors, some of us anyway, exist between two worlds. In the 18th century, the two worlds were European and Native. For us, we certainly still have that dynamic happening, but we also have our existence in this modern world, and our fascination and recreation of the old world. It's between these two worlds that we find ourselves when we clock in for the 9-5 while our head is full of old world knowledge, quotes from narratives, projects we have on the horizon or events we can't wait to attend. It happens when we drive down the road in our car, and stare off into a field or wooded area and imagine ourselves traveling through with our gear and think about going in the woods soon to "get away from it all". Our ancestors of course never thought about camping in the woods as "getting away from it all." But none the less, the forest has become our last bastion of peace and quiet in an ever busy and loud world and it's the nearest and closest thing at hand to experiencing life "back then". Rarely do we have a town or old house from the era to "play" in, so the woods will have to suffice. 

Guy Johnson by Benjamin West

    

Living in between worlds was a theme of a recent trip to New England, which I will spare a lot of the details accept what is relevant to this particular post, but suffice to say, it was a splendid time and got me thinking a lot about this phenomenon in the past and in the present. The first big stop on the trip and the focus of this post was "Johnson Hall" in Johnstown NY. Built in 1763, this site was the definition of "between two worlds". Sir William Johnson was the Superintendent of Indian Affairs during the French and Indian Wars up until his death in 1774. His consort, Molly Brandt, a native woman and sister of Joseph Brandt is a fascinating example of the these worlds coalescing. As we were informed by Wade Wells, the site manager, Johnson Hall was a place of constant activity and especially when it came to native visitors. There were many councils held there and Johnson was constantly entertaining. 

    From a living history portrayal standpoint this becomes a very fascinating intersection of cultures. We have many examples of captives and other people going to live with natives, maybe staying a while and then leaving in the case of someone like James Smith or William Wells. But we rarely have a man of such prominent means living with a native woman who is running the household, a very European household, while also maintaining her cultural identity and manner of dress. 

    For us as reenactors, I think this can serve as a great introduction into how we think about our kit. In the early 1770s, the year Sir William dies and the subsequent years, we have Nicholas Cresswell, a man of moderate means traveling in the backcountry. Cresswell encounters along the way natives who give him clothing and goods. And it's in this context that we can build a case for the exchange of cultures in various circumstances. In 1774 Cresswell writes : 

"Saw four Indian Chiefs of the Shawnee Nation, who have been at War with the Virginians this summer, but have made peace with them, and they are sending these people to Williamsburg as hostages. They are tall, manly, well-shaped men, of a Copper colour with black hair, quick piercing eyes, and good features. They have rings of silver in their nose and bobs to them which hang over their upper lip. Their ears are cut from the tips two thirds of the way round and the piece extended with brass wire till it touches their shoulders, in this part they hang a thin silver plate, wrought in flourishes about three inches diameter, with plates of silver round their arms and in the hair, which is all cut off except a long lock on the top of the head. They are in white men's dress, except breeches which they refuse to wear, instead of which they have a girdle round them with a piece of cloth drawn through their legs and turned over the girdle, and appears like a short apron before and behind. All the hair is pulled from their eyebrows and eyelashes and their faces painted in different parts with Vermilion. They walk remarkably straight and cut a grotesque appearance in this mixed dress. Got to Mr. Gibbs's in the evening." 

    Cresswell also buys some goods and "some silver trinkets to barter with the Indians". So there is an expectation that he may want to trade with them while on the journey. It's little details like this one that are so cool and offer a good addition to your kit if you're someone traveling in the manner of Cresswell and his companions in the backcountry. Getting these details right and balancing them in a manner that keeps you from standing out as "unique" is the key. Basically, that rule of thumb of who, what, where, and when. 

    Now, living in these two worlds. I have found that for us as modern reenactors, the struggle as I mentioned above is between the modern and the old worlds. I don't think it's some desire to go back wholesale to some pre-technological time, although some technologies we'd probably be better off without. I think what is actually at play is a desire to get in touch with things that aren't part of our daily life anymore but at one time were. Hunting, going to the woods for extended periods, sewing, gardening, and learning other crafts is a way of connecting. 

    For Cresswell and the natives he encountered, the connection was in sharing and learning each others customs. He writes of his time in Ohio near the Moravian settlement : "At Coashoskis. Mr. Anderson could not find his horse. Sold all my goods for Furs. In the afternoon rambled about the Town, smoking Tobacco with the Indians and did everything in my power to make myself agreeable to them. Went to see the King. He lives in a poor house, and he is as poor in dress as any of them, no emblem of Royalty or Majesty about him. He is an old man, treated me very kindly, called me his good friend, and hoped I would be kind to my Squaw. Gave me a small string of Wampum as a token of friendship. My Squaw uneasy to see me write so much.

    Back to our modern world. Reenacting seems like a relatively new phenomena, but it's actually really old. I would say it's new in the sense that we now care about the accuracy and details, but the idea of dressing up and commemorating long ago events isn't new at all. Indeed, ancient tribes gather at times to commemorate valiant deeds and events in their oral traditions and act them out. I think people have always been interested in their past. I think what is new is the amount of leisure time we have. Those of us who are into this weird history stuff fill that leisure time with recreating a time that had less leisure. Always with this dichotomy. 

     At the height of Cresswells living between worlds, he participates in a dance of which the viewers are very amused to see him attempt their ways. "At Coashoskin Mr. Anderson found his horse. Saw an Indian Dance in which I bore a part. Painted by my Squaw in the most elegant manner. Divested of all my clothes, except my Calico short breechclout, leggings, and Mockesons. A fire was made which we danced round with little order, whooping and hallooing in a most frightful manner. I was but a novice at the diversion and by endeavouring to act as they did made them a great deal of sport and ingratiated me much in their esteem. This is the most violent exercise to the adepts in the art I ever saw. No regular figure, but violent distortion of features, writhing and twisting the body in the most uncouth and antic postures imaginable. Their music is an old Keg with one head knocked out and covered with a skin and beat with sticks which regulates their times. The men have strings of Deer's hoofs tied round their ankles and knees, and gourds with shot or pebblestones in them in their hands which they continually rattle. The women have Morris bells or Thimbles with holes in the bottom and strung upon a leather thong tied round their ankles, knees and waists. The jingling of these Bells and Thimbles, the rattling of the Deer's hoofs and gourds, beating of the drum and kettle, with the horrid yells of the Indians, render it the most unharmonious concert, that human idea can possibly conceive. It is a favourite diversion, in which I am informed they spend a great part of their time in Winter. Saw an Indian Conjuror dressed in a Coat of Bearskin with a Visor mask made of wood, frightful enough to scare the Devil. The Indians believe in conjuration and Witchcraft. Left the Town, went about two miles. Camped by the side of a run. A young Indian boy, son of one Baubee a Frenchman, came after us and insists on going with us to Fort Pitt. Find myself very unwell this evening, pains in my head and back. Nancy seems very uneasy about my welfare. Afraid of the Ague."

    What an amazing description. He also recounts a sweat lodge later in the journal. 

    I think you get the idea. I love the idea that we live in between the modern and the old and reenacting, between the European and the Indigenous. I think it helps me appreciate the clash of worlds that was happening in the 18th century. I certainly enjoy getting out into the woods or to an event to pretend for a few days that I'm someone else in a different time, but I also enjoy that after event pizza or cheeseburger with a tall glass of soda. What can I say...

    Thanks for reading. 

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