A copy of a section of the map drawn by mr. Senex in 1740 from my journal.
Thursday July 2- The mist from the Falls of Niagara could be seen from miles away before we ever heard its mighty roar. It was there that we joined up with Sergeant Gibbs and a large group of the Independent Company. The portion of the 1740 map of the area by mr. John Senex claimed that the falls spilled 600 feet. But I strongly suspect, after my own examination through those mists, that this is not the case. Tho' I can certainly understand how its beauty and grandeur might inspire such an exaggeration. I, myself, would respectfully submit the falls to be about half of mr. Senex's estimate.
After a small dinner, I conveyed the greetings and well wishes from Parson John and his servant Maggie back home to those in attendance. We then traveled northward to join up with the rest of the company that was already encamped in a staging area to the East of the French held fort. We arrived at the British encampment to the ring of tent stakes being driven. The English war machine was putting down roots in the form of dozens of tidy rows of white canvas tents. Some of the men from the Company had already set up a tent for the use of Lucy and myself. I must confess that, if the white tent had not been labeled and numbered, I would never have been able to find my way to it in the evening.
The upper corner of my tent read in thickly painted black letters:
R. DEMERE'S
INDt. COy.
SO. CA.
No. 5
A brief walk from the company's tent row, I discovered Dr. Clift, with whom I have been corresponding of late. Clift showed me to the large, fly-style coverings that would act as our Infirmary and Surgery. After our introductions, we went about arranging things to suit us. I found Clift to be very agreeable and somewhat eager to begin our duties at the hospital.
Lucy took ill after a portion of under cooked chicken from dinner, so with a bit of phisicking, I put her to bed for a rest in our tent.
Much of the remainder of the evening was spent in the singing of songs, a tradition of the Loudoun men after sunset. I have thus far found the climate most agreeable for July, pleasant and sunny with a nice breeze from Lake Ontario. None of the humidity in the air so common to the lands below the Ohio.
For those with an inclination for things musical, our group sang our typical fare. Fathom the Bowl, Don't forget your old shipmates, and a few others, plus plenty of British Grenadiers thrown in for good measure. Not having much of an appetite for things military, nor a fervid desire to bleed for King and country, I tow-row-rowed about three times and decided it was time for bed.
After a small dinner, I conveyed the greetings and well wishes from Parson John and his servant Maggie back home to those in attendance. We then traveled northward to join up with the rest of the company that was already encamped in a staging area to the East of the French held fort. We arrived at the British encampment to the ring of tent stakes being driven. The English war machine was putting down roots in the form of dozens of tidy rows of white canvas tents. Some of the men from the Company had already set up a tent for the use of Lucy and myself. I must confess that, if the white tent had not been labeled and numbered, I would never have been able to find my way to it in the evening.
The upper corner of my tent read in thickly painted black letters:
R. DEMERE'S
INDt. COy.
SO. CA.
No. 5
Row #4 of 12 rows of british tents. Each row consisted of two lines of tents placed back to back.
Image by Doc Muzzy.
Lucy took ill after a portion of under cooked chicken from dinner, so with a bit of phisicking, I put her to bed for a rest in our tent.
Much of the remainder of the evening was spent in the singing of songs, a tradition of the Loudoun men after sunset. I have thus far found the climate most agreeable for July, pleasant and sunny with a nice breeze from Lake Ontario. None of the humidity in the air so common to the lands below the Ohio.
For those with an inclination for things musical, our group sang our typical fare. Fathom the Bowl, Don't forget your old shipmates, and a few others, plus plenty of British Grenadiers thrown in for good measure. Not having much of an appetite for things military, nor a fervid desire to bleed for King and country, I tow-row-rowed about three times and decided it was time for bed.
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