In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

introduction to the ohio country 61 chapter six Introduction to the Ohio Country t Ensign Harrison had to march his new recruits to the theater of war in the West, but it is not likely that he did so alone. Standard procedure called for him to unite his new men with an existing company under a more experienced officer who had been recruiting in the Northeast and was marching to Pittsburgh, where his troops would take flatboats down the Ohio River to Fort Washington, the central command post of the Western army. Four such companies passed through Pennsylvania in the fall of 1791; they were commanded by Captains Samuel Newman, John Buell, Jonathan Haskell, and Charles Cushing. Newman and Buell, however, passed through too early for Harrison to join them; they left Philadelphia in mid-August and arrived in September. Cushing did not get away until mid-October, and possibly not then—too late for Harrison, who arrived at Fort Washington on 21 November. Haskell’s company left Philadelphia on 20 September and reached Pittsburgh on 20 October, according to army records; that Harrison marched with it seems all but certain.1 Secretary Knox’s orders specified their route: they were to go to Lan­ caster and pick up provisions, cross the Susquehanna at Harris’s Ferry, and march to Carlisle, where they would again draw supplies, and proceed through Chambersburg, across the mountains via Bedford, and on to Fort Pitt, where they would make the necessary arrangements for descending the Ohio River. To Harrison, of course, the towns were mere names empty of any concrete image, but those names probably rang for 61 Booraem text.indb 61 5/22/12 1:53 PM 62 a child of the revolution him with the music of Marathon and Cannae, Philippi and Arbela. Knox calculated that the company’s rate of march would bring it into Pittsburgh by the second week in October; in fact, however, the troops did not arrive there until 20 October, after a month’s marching—a normal rate for a company of recruits.2 The newly augmented company, uniformed and in full military order, marched out of Philadelphia across the Schuylkill bridge at the far end of High Street, up the hill and off on the right-hand fork toward Lancaster: a mixture of youths Harrison’s own age, weathered old-timers, New England farm boys, and Philadelphia Irish, together with, very probably, some soldiers’ wives plodding along the dusty road beside their men. They were eighty in all, a loud, dissolute, unruly bunch; in the judgment of the time, there was no company more corrupting than a group of “common soldiers.” Sergeants, marching alongside the main body, bawled commands to the men. A rear guard of about fifteen men followed at a distance, escorting the wagon that carried their tents and supplies and watching out for deserters. Haskell and Harrison walked in front.3 They halted, usually, around nightfall, near a tavern—the Sign of the White Horse perhaps, or the Sheaf of Wheat or the Compass—and waited for the wagon to come up. Then the men pitched the tents and cooked their supper. Haskell and Harrison might eat in camp, or they might dine in the tavern at government expense. Inevitably, some soldiers managed to secure rum and get drunk. Almost every night, Haskell held a summary court to administer punishments for drunkenness and misconduct. They were no doubt the standard punishments of the time: ten lashes or so, say, well laid on, on a man’s naked back. Would-be deserters would be punished more harshly. Not long after dark, the camp slept, but in the freshness of early morning, an hour or two before dawn, the drums began beating again; the men turned out and were sleepily mustered into ranks, struck the tents, shouldered their gear, and made ready to march.4 It was tiring travel for officers and men alike, although they rarely exceeded fifteen miles a day. In the languorous heat and intermittent showers of late September, they marched through the rich, rolling farm country of southeast Pennsylvania, past the stubble of recently harvested wheat fields and the stares of thrifty German farmers out gathering their produce into stone barns. They marched through Lancaster itself, “a Beautiful inland town, with some Elegant houses,” as one contemporary traveler put it, slumbering among its fat, well-cultivated fields. (Perhaps Booraem text.indb 62 5/22/12 1:53 PM [18.191.147...

Share