Mosby and Me
By 1st Lt. OreoPage Three
A Connecticut Yankee in
Marse Robert's ArmyIn the spring of 1996 he began to tell me about Civil War reenactments and that we would be participating in such events. As a matter of fact, that is what we had been in training for.
Slowly but surely everything began to make sense. The only thing I couldn't figure out was how we were supposed to get to these events.
I know this guy had bought a horse trailer for me, but it was very heavily damaged if not destroyed in a violent thunder storm with very high winds.
We had also began to go out on longer and longer rides, even going into the local town, Wolcott, Connecticut's business district by not only back country roads but main streets where the traffic at some points was quite heavy.
I was bit nervous for the first few times, but I was beginning to really trust this human. As a matter of fact, I began to think of him as my Dad, and in my mind began to call him Dad.
In the middle of August I knew there was a reenactment scheduled in Manchester, CT, approximately 50 miles to the north of the farm and I also knew Dad was planning on the both of us attending. But how?
I shouldn't have been surprised when on the Wednesday morning before the weekend of the event my Dad walked in, dressed in his full uniform at an earlier time than the usual 8:00 a.m. I mean I am talking 5:00 a.m.!
It was still dark out, but after a few moments I didn't care because Dad had filled by grain bin, not only with my morning ration of grain; but with 2 pounds of carrots and 2 large apples.. I sensed something was up, because as I was eating, he was filling my saddle bags with additional grain and he began to talk to me as he always did, telling me of what we were about to do.
Then he said one thing that began to make me nervous and that was "by the end of this day we, the two of us would be famous or infamous, either stars or felons". I wasn't sure how to take that statement. But I must admit I began to get rather curious.
After dad had finished what he was doing, assembling our gear and finished eating his own breakfast of a cup of coffee and a bagel (the last modern thing he would eat for several days!) he opened my stall door and placed my halter on me.
I was led to the cross ties and hooked up, with a flake of hay in front of me to munch on as Dad began to groom me.
All the time he kept talking to me about my responsibilities and that I should be on my best behavior, no matter what happen to us on this day.
I thought to myself - why not- this guy whom I had come to know as my Dad, had been really nice to me. As a matter of fact, over the past 8 months, I had never been treated so nice!
After the grooming and hoof picking, he began to saddle me up, Dad finally mentioned to me what we were about to do 50 miles in 3 days - from the farm in Wolcott, CT. to the Civil War reenactment in Manchester, CT.
I can remember thinking that Dad must be going nuts, but if he thought we could do this, I was not about to question him now. I was getting up for an adventure!
After dad was finished with tacking me up, I was released from the cross ties and led outside, Dad was polite and asked me if I was ready, I thought to myself, "what the heck, let's go".
Dad and I proceeded up the hill and along the driveway towards Woodtick Road. When we arrived at the end of the driveway, rather than turning left which is generally the way we turned when heading out for road training, we turned right We had gone this way before, but not that often.
I had total trust and respect in Dad, the same as Dad had in me, so I just listened to and did as Dad requested, the only thing was at the point where we would normally had turned around to head back to the farm we just kept going, and kept going, up this road.
We kept going straight on through Bristol, CT., all the while Dad was acting the part of Tour Guide pointing out the sights and the sounds that were all new to me.
I soon lost whatever fear of the unknown and began to relax, and then the fun began. After we were almost through Bristol, a police cruiser stopped in front of the two of us, and the officer ask us to stop.
Dad whispered in my ear, "famous and/or felons or both, just graze on that patch of grass!"
The very next thing that occurred would happen more and more to the two of us as this journey continued. The officer came over to me and began to pet me and began to ask Dad all sorts of questions about me all the equipment that we both had on our persons.
The police officer was quite inquisitive and also very knowledgeable. People began to gather around us and at that time Dad reassured me that we had nothing to fear, we were about to become famous, not infamous! After a short period of time we were permitted to be on our way, but as we continued, more and more people began to stop us.
We were even interviewed by the local newspaper and had our pictures taken. We made the front page of that newspaper the very next day and then our fame really began to spread.
You see, it was not ever way that a Confederate Cavalry Officer and his Mount are seen riding along the side of the road -- especially in Central Connecticut!
For the next two days we received the warmest of greetings from all of those whom we happened to come across, with Dad signing our autographs as "OREO and the COLONEL".
It was amazing, and I must admit that I have never eaten so many carrots in such a short period of time. As a matter of fact, Dad remarked that the fertilizer I produced every couple of hours or so should be orange instead of the usual shade of greenish brown.
Towards the end of our first day out and about, I began to ask myself a twofold question, "when and where were we going to stop at the end of this day ?"
That question was answered at about 4:00 p.m. that afternoon, when we were approach by some volunteer firemen from East Farmington, CT., which is a little town just south of Hartford, CT., our state capital.
We were invited to spend the night with a very nice family, 'the Ungers", who live around the corner from the firehouse.
Mike Unger was a volunteer member of the fire department and we were treated to the very best that they had to offer. We were fed, given a place to camp - Dad even was given permission to take a shower and have breakfast at the firehouse the next morning.
I was allowed to graze on the firehouse lawn, luscious green grass, that tasted wonderful when mixed with my morning ration of grain. Dad and I were then giver proper directions by the friendly firemen so that we could continue on our way, with our next stop for that night already arranged at the "Ballard Farm", north of Hartford, CT, and just south of Manchester, CT., our final destination for the weekend reenactment.
Needless to say, we arrived in Manchester ahead of schedule by a day to a welcome that was quite a surprise for the both of us.
On Friday I was given the day off to relax and graze on approximately 20 acres of good -grass, plus my grain ration, plus what seem like all the carrots in the world at that time.
I really enjoyed this day off and all the attention Dad and I had been receiving, but Dad also told me that on Saturday I would be experiencing my first Civil War Re-enactment and not to worry because he would be there by my side.
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