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Friday, June 27, 2003, was just about as hot and humid as it was for the
actual Battle of Monmouth, 225 years ago.
We assembled at Mount's Inn in Englishtown, the site of the court-martial of
Gen. Lee during the Revolutionary War. (Lee was court-martialed for disobeying
orders, among other charges...) Dressed in full Rev War uniform, I was
wearing several layers of clothing, from a linen shirt, knee length breeches, cotton
stockings, to a weskit (vest) and a full length WOOL uniform jacket. (youch!)
Top that off with a wig, and a tricorn hat. And all in 90+ heat and a good
90% humidity. I actually envied the horses, who were parked in the shade in the
trailer, munching hay.
My bay and white Pinto had been dutifully painted overall bay, and RB had been cleaned up,
although not to my level of satisfaction. The General was pretty firm on not dolling
the horse up, reminding me that he was supposed to have ridden a long
distance over the last several weeks, and the horse was a "war horse" and not going
to a show. Given the hot weather, I was kind of relieved to NOT have to go the
whole nine yards,
We mounted up and took our spots at the head of the parade at about 10:30. I
was carrying the General's flag on a 9' standard, and riding to the General's
left. We made the tour of Englishtown, from the Inn, down the road a bit to an
old Gristmill, where the General gave a small dedication speech. I didn't
hear what it was for, as I was parked in the shade with both horses. We remounted
and started back on the road for Freehold. We stopped at the Municipal
Complex for lunch, and a bit of a rest in some shade. I took my horses off a little
bit, and found a shady spot next to the fife and drum band. We were surrounded
by people all wanting to know about the horses. Some kids, but mostly adults,
which really surprised me. The horses were really behaving themselves, and I
was beginning to think that maybe this wasn't going to be all bad.
As we were getting ready to remount and proceed, the bass drummer picked up
his drum, and walked off behind us a little way, and struck his drum.
Well....poor RB just about turned inside out. He spun around to look at the noise, his
eyes were bugged, and he just didn't know what to make of that odd looking
thing making all that noise behind him. I got the drummer's attention, he
stopped, and we walked RB over to him, and I had him talk so RB could figure out just
what he was. Then I asked the drummer to bang the drum softly and to let RB
sniff the drum. Once we did that, RB looked at me kind of sheepishly, as if to
say, "Oh....ok. Stupid human trick." That was the end of it. That was really
to only moment during the entire day that either of the boys had any "Arab
Moments."
The next stop was the Old Tennant Church. The horses were placed under the
most beautiful copper beech tree I've ever seen. This tree had to be over 200
years old. The shade was delightful. We had water troughs set for the horses and
mules. By the way, there were only 2 horses, and 2 mules. That was it. (Kind
of a shame...)
When we finally reached Freehold, at about 4:30 in the afternoon, I had a
very healthy respect for any mounted cavalry units, and could fully appreciate
why the casualties were so high during the Rev war, mostly from heat exhaustion.
It was considered highly improper at that time to appear in public in
anything less clothing-wise than what I described above. I literally drank a gallon
of water, and didn't really need to find a bathroom anywhere.
We marched into Freehold at the head of the parade, followed by the fife and
drums down the main street to the Hall of Records. RB was eyeing his
reflection in the plate glass windows of the storefronts. It was funny. He thought
there was another horse there. I was watching him looking to the side, and didn't
know what he was all puffed up over, until I saw the windows with his
reflection in them.
We stayed in Freehold at the Hall of records for over an hour, and we were
approached by a lot of people, all asking about the horses. RB acquitted himself
well, and both horses were really beyond reproach even with the fife and
drums, the flags waving, everything.
I admit freely to capitalizing on the opportunity to tell all and sundry
about the heritage of the horses, and to explain that *this* was how the Arabs are
SUPPOSED to behave. With any luck, we managed to make a few converts on
Friday. ;-) If so, then it was a good day.
Given the fact that the gentleman that portrayed the General only rode RB one
time prior to the parade, I was so very proud of his behavior. He carried
Carl with no troubles, and Carl is over 6' tall. RB barely broke a sweat, even in
that heat and humidity. I know *I* was cranky by the end of the day; I
couldn't have blamed the horses if they were, too, but they were happy as clams at
high tide. LOL
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