Posted by Seamus on March 16, 2000 at 10:53:29:
In Reply to: The Irish Celebration at Carlisle posted by Cpl. MacWilliam on March 16, 2000 at 08:29:24:
: Cousin Seamus,
: I must make this message quick for the Captain is calling me and I must assemble the men. It is with a heavy heart that I write this message, for I have not yet found Uncle Quasi among the citizens of Carlisle.
: A contingent of our company of Grenadiers went into the village of Carlisle last evening and visited the local tavern. We asked about the hunchbacked man whom we believe to be your father, but all persons answered that they knew not where he was. Several seemed to know of him, one gentleman in the tavern even raising his stick and stating that if we find him he wanted a piece of him first for the pinch that was given to his young daughter. But no one seems to know his whereabouts. One of the tavern wenches did let slip that she thought he may have a cabin a few miles south of the village, but one of the other wenches gave a "mum's the word" sign and the first wench denied any knowledge.
: However, dear cousin, we believe we may be able to flush out the long lost Quasi tomorrow evening. You see, it is the celebration of St. Patrick tomorrow evening and Colonel Bouquet has given us leave to celebrate as we always do on the holidays of St. Patrick, St. Andrew, St. David, and St. George. Several of the Royal Americans, being Irish, have already begun their celebration and that is why the Captain is forming us up. We are to do double duty today to make sure that all troops are sober until morrow's eve.
: We expect tomorrow evening to celebrate with the Irishmen, them being our cousins in blood, and at that time we expect the hunchback to appear. For, if he is indeed your own father and Davey's and my Uncle Quasi, he is sure to be celebrating with the rest of us.
: Wish us luck, cousin Seamus. Give our regards to Sgt. Toot. We have still had no messages from Many Flags, Three Tales or Sign Talker. We continue to question those Lenape who come to join the expedition, if they have had word of our longhunter cousins.
: God Save the King!
: Cpl. Malcolm A. MacWilliam, 77th Gren Coy
Our esteemed St. Patrick will be toasted and honored here at Fort Augusta, too, tomorrow, and as at Carlisle, the celebration has already begun here. Two privates from Capt. Vanette's Company, James McConell and Steward McKee, got into their cups last night and ended up in the guardhouse. The had signed an oath upon enlistment not to get drunk, desert, prove cowardly in Time of Action, or be disobedient to their Officers, and last night violated that oath in that they were drunk. Pvt. McConnell was so intoxicated that he fell into the manure pile from the oxen pen. He tried to hide when the corporal of the guard went to arrest him, but his odor gave him away. Cpl. Lutz said it was quite simple to follow the evening breeze right to him hiding under a hay pile in the stables! I saw the Pvt. down at the river awhile ago, looking very ill, and was scrubbing himself with lye soap! The garrison was lining the walls of the fort, laughing and calling to him the whole while! I must tell you, it was quite a sight! His behaviour and that of Pvt. McKee will also cost them their pay of six dolars for the month.
I have been studying on the situation concerning my father, Quasi. I think I must face him, Malcolm, and ask him some very important, nagging questions. I pray that you are able to secure him, and that he will be willing, and anxious, to talk with me, once he knows I am here. There is a void in my heart, and for good or bad, it must be filled.
I must go now, and tend to Nancy. She is mending my hunting shirt which was torn so badly to Kittanning and back. She wants me to see it and try it on. I do not understand that...it fit before it was torn, why would it not fit now? I wonder...did she make me a new one...Hmmmmm!
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