Date(s): Second Half of February 2008
Event Name: "Winter 1864"
Location: Newfane Historical Society site, Niagara County, New York
Host (Site Owner): Newfane Historical Society
Sponsor: 151st New York Memorial Regiment of the Potomac Legion
Discussion Format: Event website/Yahoo Group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/w64/
Contact, Federal: Scott Schotz of the 151st at hurrah_without_the_h@yahoo.com, (716) 795-9577. Alternate Contact: Kevin O'Beirne, kobeirne@adelphia.net.
Contact, Confederate: Contact the Federal POC. Participation extremely limited.
Civilian: Limited numbers of civilian portrayals available. Contact the Federal POC.
Website: Event website/Yahoo Group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/w64/
Comments: See below.
Event Point of Contact: See Federal POC, above.
Event Type: Semi-immersion winter quarters event.
Impression(s): 151st New York Cos. H and K, in winter quarters at John Bott's Farm near Brandy Station, Virginia in the winter of 1864.
Preservation: None.
Registration: Opens 10/31/2007, approximately. Probable registration fee: $20, will include cooked meals from Thursday breakfast through Sunday breakfast.

This semi-immersion winter quarters weekend provides truly unique living history experience. W64 2008 will be a FOUR-DAY event, most likely from Wednesday evening through Sunday morning. This event provides a slice-of-winter-quarters life for approximately sixty-five participants all quartered in reproduction winter hutments, including auxiliary buildings such as a guard house, cookhouse, commissioned officer quarters, and other structures. Participants are organized into two infantry companies, plus limited civilian participation portraying laundresses and possibly other impressions.

Report on the 2006 event, which is a longer version of the report published in Civil War Historian's recent issue, is attached as a text document in MS Word.


http://www.authentic-campaigner.com/forum/attachment.php?attachmentid=3806&d=1169177481

In '06 the high temperatures wier in the teens an the wind blew, gusting in the 40-60mph range all weekend. But, hey, it didn't rain.

 

--Last edited by grumpydave on 2007-10-03 20:18:30 --

A little more news...As with the last Winter of 64 event, talk of opening registration at the event before, last time was Payne's Farm, this time will be After the Battle is being discussed. It is my opinion, it will happen. There being only 60 spots for this event, you might wish to make attending After the Battle a priority if you wish to attend Winter of 64'. And, as has been stated before, this will be the last Winter of 64' event... ever. In other words, if you don't register early for the W64 event, your chances of attending are very slim, indeed.

be advised - registration opens on the 24th - details are posted on the AC forum. It's going to take a little effort to get registered, through the W64 Yahoo Group. There are only 60ish   slots available for the event. I imagine, after the popularity of the last event, they will go very quickly. Do not put registrating for this event off!

Last time, there was a "waiting list" created. Folks were placed on the waiting list and as folks found out they couldn't attend, they contacted the event staff and folks on the waiting list were added. This system also created very few no shows for the event. I also understand, the registration fee is $35, if you stay from beginning to end you get a $10 rebate.

I heard there are 300+ folks going to make a mad dash for this one.

"I heard there are 300+ folks going to make a mad dash for this one."

If not more.

Quote :

Ken Cornett wrote : I heard there are 300+ folks going to make a mad dash for this one.

I would be one of them, but just the wrong time of year for a CPA....

Ok, 299.

The registration form for "Winter 1864" 2008 will be posted on the
event's Yahoo Group for use by interested parties starting at 10:30
p.m. on Sunday evening, September 23, 2007. The event's Yahoo Group
website is: http://tech.groups.yahoo.com/group/w64/.

To register for the event download the form, fill it out completely,
and submit it via US Mail or other means (e-mailed forms are not
acceptable). To be valid, each registration must be accompanied by a
check or money order for the entire registration fee plus the
registration deposit ($35 total; of this amount, $10 will be refunded
to each participant who is present for the entire event, said refund
to be provided immediately following the conclusion of hte event).
Submit one registration form for each individual.

During the week of 9/17/2007, the event committee will contact
individuals pre-selected to hold certain ranks or jobs at the event,
including individuals slated for certain "scenarios", regarding their
registration status. These individuals will need to submit their
registration data and payment like everyone else.

W64 2008 is a four-day event (Wednesday PM through midday Sunday),
February 20-24, 2008. Those who cannot or will not commit to
attending for the entire event should not register for this event,
because they would be taking a bunk away from someone who can and
will attend for the entire four days.

We are pleased to announce that, at the 9/16/2007 event committee
workday and planning meeting, it was decided to provide an additional
eight bunks, thus expanding the registration cap. These bunks will
be in two wall tents built on a common wooden platform, with wood
ends on each wall tent. Each wall tent will be equipped with a stove
for heating and a brick chimney. For those who attended W64 2006:
The new bunkspaces will be similar in construction to the site's
hospital tent. During W64 2006, the "patient" in the hospital tent
remained warm despite wind chills as low as -22 degrees F and wind
gusts up to 60 mph. Just keep those stoves fed...

Indications are that demand for this event is strong. We recommend
that anyone interested in attending put their registration and
payment in the mail on Monday 9/24/2007, because it's likely that the
75 or so spaces available will "sell out" in the first few days.
Registrations will be accepted on a first-come, first-served basis.
When the event's registration cap is reached, additional registrants
will be placed on a waiting list in the order in which those
registrations are received accompanied by full payment; individuals
on the waiting list will be admitted to the event (via pre-event
notification only) when and if a registrant relingquishes a
registration spot/bunk.

Rumor has it, registration will be filled within 5 or so days of it's opening late Sunday evening the 23rd. I'm running a company(scary thought) and dropped mine off at the Post Office on Sunday evening just to be sure it gets there. You figure mail takes 5 to 6 days, first class, to get anywhere in the US. I expect that's when folks will start landing on a waiting list. Yea, the last event was that good. See my article in Civil War Historian.

Grump,

The check's in the mail.  

From what I'm reading on the server, lots of folks sent their stuff "priority" or "next day." I've never seen anything like it.

I just came off the W64 listserver and, the word is things are moving along but aren't filled yet. If you haven't registered, do it, your chances are still fair. A formal list of registrants is on it's way.

Don't bother the organizers with any "Did you get my registration?" stuff, they're busy.  

--Last edited by grumpydave on 2007-09-27 13:35:30 --

Something very much like this appered in Civil War Historian Magazine about a year ago:

“The Winter of 1864-Looking Through a Frost Covered Window”
Dave Towsen


I've had a very difficult time writing about the Winter of 1864 event. This sort of mental, writers block problem, has never happened to me before; describing events I've attended as always seemed to come easily but for some reason this was a huge exception. I was for some time unable to get my thoughts into words and my words into a form that gave the event the credit it was due.  My good friend, Rob Willis, didn't know I called him the other day to help remove my writer’s block. And, with his words, "Even though some who read what you write may not fully understand what you experienced, you need to put into words what you saw and felt. Not everyone knows the time period we know so well, not everyone can or will understand the experiences the men of the American Civil War had but, because of what we know, our hearts and minds can parallel our experiences to theirs.  Even, sometimes to the point where the present time becomes a moment in a time past." Thank you my good friend for those words of inspiration. Who could have said it better? This won’t be the first time I will thank all of the event organizers, the members of the 151st New York, Kevin "Old Zeke" O'Beirne, Charles Heath our Sutler and especially Renee Roth, who portrayed the distraught Mrs. Silk.  You shall never know how much your acting contributed to my weekend's experience or, everything I‘ve ever done at a Civil War event. Your portrayal haunts me still.  I don’t know any other way to put what I experienced walking you from the guard post to the Officers Quarters. I hope you, the reader, will endeavor to understand the paragraphs to follow.

February 12th 1863

Dearest Mother,

I have just received you letter of January 19th.  It often makes me wonder why the mail is so awfully slow while we are in winter camp. While we are on the march, I can understand the slowness of the mail. Still each letter is cherished and read over countless times.  
I am assigned this day as Sergeant of the Guard so, I may have to put down my pen and paper as duty calls. It is very late though, after midnight, and biter cold. The wind howls like the winter wind in our home in Buffalo. Nary a soul is out and about, except for those of us given the duty of guarding our camp.
Please, don't feel the requests you send for me to send money home go unheeded. I know how our family needs the money I send and, will not forget to do so when we are paid at the end of this month.  Don’t forget, our pay is only issued every other month and I will send every cent I can.
I must tell you of an incident that occurred on our camp. A sad story, which bore out over the last two days.  Very late, evening last, there was a knock at our little cabin door. Someone poked their head in and announced, “The Surgeon says Private Silk is dying.  If any of you wish to see him once more in this world, you had better go to the hospital.”  Not feeling wholly myself and not knowing Mr. Silk all that well, I rolled back in my blankets and went to sleep.  When I awoke this morning, there was a fresh grave in the small plot next to the hospital.  Private Silk had succumbed to the lung wound he received at Mine Run. I was saddened once more by the flooding back of the memories of our fight there and those friends lost there, who I will see in this world no more. The morning bugle sounded and I packed my things for the duty I am now performing as Sergeant of the Guard.  Our Officer for today is a fair man and has done his best, within army rules, to make the men comfortable in their duties on this frigid windy day.  I had posted my first groups of men and had just settled down to the paperwork which is required of this duty when I was called by one of the Corporals to the furthers post.  Imagine my shock and surprise when I found Mrs. Silk, trying to come into camp to see her husband. She was crying quite fitfully when I came upon her.  I was a stone as to what to say to the poor woman as I escorted her to the officer’s quarters. I had no words to sooth this stranger’s grief. I could not open my mouth to tell he her husband had passed.  I was glad my journey with her was short and my duty to her was soon over.  During a patrol later in the day through the camp, I witnessed the coffin containing Private Silk’s remains and his wife being loaded onto a teamster’s wagon.  I understand the teamster delivered them to the train depot at Brandy Station.  I think you will see them before this letter. I believe I was more profoundly affected by this incident than I was when the mini balls were a flying at Mine Run. There was something very personal about this incident that I cannot understand, or explain.

I had almost forgotten, I will enclose my commission papers with this letter. I am very proud to have finally received them.

Tell everyone I am well and will write again soon. Kiss the little ones for me.

Your Son,

Nathaniel


I penned that letter on Saturday night in the guardhouse as I did my duty as Sergeant of the Guard. I was to portray Sergeant Nathaniel Peck for the weekend, which was made very easy by the event organizers. You see, each of the attendee’s was given the role of an actual soldier from the 151st NY and provided information about that soldier several weeks before the event. It’s not often any of us have the opportunity to attend a winter camp event, an event that was, to me, more of an experience then the typical event. And, this event for me started in October at Payne’s farm and ended in Newfane, New York at a little place called the Newfane Historical Society.

The Winter of 64’ event is in it’s third “go round” being held every other year in Newfane New York. The nine small winter huts and other buildings, include a cookhouse with brick bread oven, officer’s quarters, hospital tent, a guardhouse and a lawyer’s office. The well-constructed huts are reproductions of shelters found in the winter camps in and around Brandy Station Virginia during the actual winter of 1864.  Using only donations, and their own labor, Dennis Shank, Scott Shotz, Jim Sauder and others of the 151st New York, have put together what has to be the best reproduction of a Civil War army’s winter camp in existence. The site is nestled on a hillside behind the Historical Society and, there were no modern intrusions that I noticed during the weekend.

The event continued the 151st NY’s journey from Mine Run and into winter camp at Brandy Station. During our weekend stay, we experienced first hand how the men of the winter camps dealt with the day-to-day issues of survival.  And, I say survival because the high temperatures only reached the low teens and there was a brisk wind for the entire weekend.
Cutting and splitting wood, keeping our huts clean, and our stoves lit took on an increased importance.  “Old Zeke,” as the men fondly called, Col. Ezekiel Bowen, who was portrayed by Kevin O’Bierne, kept us busy all weekend.

There was a company talent show on Friday evening songs, poems and a skit or two held our attention for the night. Lights out was followed by trying to keep warm.  Saturday, Erasmus Hopkins, portrayed by Charles Heath, our battalion Sutler was open for business and happy to take anyone’s money who had money to offer.  I must admit, this was the best Sutler impression I have ever seen.  Erasmus had all kinds of wares and food to fulfill your every desire.  A cranky man that Sutler.  Maybe it was because his liquid goods kept freezing making them harder to sell or, maybe it was because of his meager heating and lighting arrangements. Well thought out by the event organizers, each of us received replica sutler tokens at check in as part of our event fee.  Erasmus was all too happy to relieve us of them at every opportunity he had.  The list of food an items available for purchase if listed here would be as long as an edition of the "Columbia Examiner."

Saturday morning I was detailed to be Sergeant of the Guard for the next 24 frigid hours. I am still amazed that someone would think enough of me to place me in that very important position. At this event, I actually was responsible for the lives of my friends.  And, those duties were to provide me with an event experience I shall never forget.  Guard duty, “the most honorable in the Army“, allowed me to, several times, look back into 1864 through a small frost covered window.  A window that allowed me to experience the things I wrote of in my opening letter.  I hope the next few lines will allow you the reader to look through that window with me. I'll try to pick up just after I dropped Mrs. Silk off at the Officers headquarters.

Back inside the Guardhouse, our officer (Garr Gast) was finishing up some of his required paperwork, sitting at a small desk off to one side of the room.  A couple of the men were warming themselves by the stove in the corner of the room while others napped on the bunks.  the Lieutenant had organized the guard into fifteen minute shifts and moved the posts out of the wind and into the sun so the men would suffer as little as possible.

The Corporals of the guard needed little direction.  These men had earned their ranks through their drive and knowledge. They performed their duties as one would expect from seasoned men. After all, the Guard is run by Corporals. Despite the horrid weather, the men in their charge were well cared for.  

As I made my occasional rounds by our posts and through the camp during the day men were busy in every direction I looked.  A wood cutting fatigue worked all day.  Another fatigue removed  the coffin which contained Private Silk’s remains from it’s frozen grave and took it to the hospital tent.  One of the men tried to earn extra money by exchanging shaves for Sutler tokens.  The cooks scurried back and forth from their cookhouse to the brick oven, exchanging their armfuls of baked for unbaked bread. Men cleaned their quarters, aired their blankets, and complained about the cold, a stove that wouldn’t draft properly because of the wind and the walk down the slippery hill to the ice covered sinks. Everywhere there was warmth, men stood to soak it up.

Evening began to fall. A wagonload of supplies cam from Brandy Station to our Sutler.  Private Silk and his Wife made the return trip with him to the station.  Hot supper with soft bread made all happy. Soon darkness fell. Music and laughter rose and fell from the mistral show being held in the officer’s quarters.  The company street became empty. Candlelight began to flicker from small windows, tent rooftops took on a soft glow from the light inside.  Inside this cabin or that, the pre-sleep activities had begun.  Men played cards around a cracker box table. A pipe was smoked. Letters from the days mail were read in silence or exchanged by friends. The guard checked to be sure the stoves and cabin’s are safe.  Constant check are made to be sure sparks aren’t blowing onto the Sibley tent or the canvas roofed huts. Two men discussed this or that. Sleep overtook the men one by one.  Inside the Sibley tent the men are huddled into a small “lump” with every article they own that might provide warmth tossed on top of themselves, next to a pile of wood and a small stove. Midnight approached, the wind howled it‘s sad tune.

Forgetting the cold I stepped outside the guardhouse without my scarf, mittens and greatcoat. The icy cold sent me immediately back inside for them. I remembered how one of the men had remarked earlier in the day how, "this must have been how Washington and his men had it at Valley Forge."   As I started down the company street I realized there was no one out, or awake but me and the steady wind. Peering into the windows of the little cabins all of the boys could be seen by the flickering light of a candle or the red glow of a stove, sleeping wrapped tight in their blankets.  As I lifted the little flap on the Sibley tent and gazed inside a warm rush of air hit my face.  Their stove and pipe were glowing red and the mass of huddled men had become a head to toe circle around the stove.  I chuckled to my self and thought, "They finally figured out how that stove works." Returning to the guardhouse I found the Lieutenant awake and looking over the guard book.  "Get some sleep." were welcome words.  The duties of the day and the cold had taken a toll on my energy.

I was awakened in what seemed like a short time by the sun coming through the Guardhouse window and a blast of cold air from an opened door at what felt like the same time.  I addressed the condition of my uniform, placing it in a more suitable state then, discussed with the Lieutenant what I had missed during my sleep.  Breakfast soon and soon after that we would be relieved.  I immediately began filling out my guard report and had it signed.

I was glad we had first-rate cooks, I remarked to a private standing near me.  We were both standing in the warm sun taking our morning meal.  The wind was gone.  Suddenly there were shouts and confusion all along the company street men ran this way and that Screaming, “FIRE! FIRE!” Sure enough, flames were beginning to engulf the canvas roof of one of the huts.  In this whirlwind of danger and horror, I witnessed on of the funniest things I had ever seen in a camp.  On of the boys, in his haste to quell the flames, had grabbed one of the “slop” buckets from beside one of the cabins and tried in vain to throw a stuck in the bucket chunk of frozen excrement on the flames. The men soon prevailed over the flames and only the canvas roof, and a pair of trousers were lost.

No sooner had our Guard been relieved when, I was reminded how much I hate rumors.   Rumors that aren‘t rumors any longer, but, have turned to fact.  Sitting down in our little hut and beginning to organize my things that I had to move because of my duties to the Guard, “The General sounded through the camp. Groans went up everywhere in camp.  Everyone knew the moment we left, someone would take over our comfortable living spaces.  “First Call“, “Assembly“ sounded and the battalion was formed. “Zeke“ announced we had been given Grand Guard duty and would be moving several miles from the camp for three or more days. Mummers went up and down the lines as men wondered out loud how we could survive in the openness of the picket line in this weather.  It was no rumor that men died on a regular basis by freezing on the picket line. Many would not complain about the weight of their extra blankets on this march.  “Right face,” and off we stepped. “At least the sun‘s out and the wind‘s stopped,” I thought to myself.*

So, now the frost covered window is closed.  The short march ended at our cars. Kevin, Scott and Dennis thanked us for coming, thanked us for enduring the cold and putting up with them as officers for the weekend.  They THANKED US! No, thank you, all of you who made The Winter of 1864 event happen.  I can’t think of a man in the ranks who wouldn’t have turned around and stayed longer if he could have.  Including me.



*Reader should understand this hut was constructed by the event organizers for the expressed purpose of burning it down. No one at any time was actually staying in the hut.  Just as “Private Silk,” a hundred pounds of something wrapped in blankets and placed into a pine coffin were buried on the event site before the ground became frozen. The original Private Silk, however, actually did die at the 151st NY’s winter camp of wounds received at Mine Run, February 5, 1864.

WOW!  Go to the W62 Yahoo listserver and look how many members there are now. That's a eye opener.

Quote :

GrumpyDave wrote : Go to the W62 Yahoo listserver and look how many members there are now.

I be one! Any registration information at this time and would it be worthwhile for a person to sent in his registration now, or is it too late?

Tell your friend to send it! There should be a list of registrants posted on the listserver very shortly.

Grumpy,

As of Thursday evening, October 4th. there are 48 people registered, which leaves about 25 slots open. Of course, there's no way to know how many registrations are in the mail.

List of Resistrants as of 10/4/2007

CHARLES HEATH
BILL WOODHAMS
GREG RENAULT
STEVE TYLER
KEVIN O’BEIRNE
DAVE TOWSEN
ANDREW MARTIN
MATT WOODBURN
KIEV THOMASON
JUSTIN RUNYON
HERB COATS
ART MILBERT
BRIAN HICKS
PATRICK CRADDOCK
JOSEPH JOHNSON
JOHN FABLE
RUSTY DICKS
CHRIS PIERING
NOAH BRIGGS
SCOTT BIGGAR
LEY WATSON
PETE McARTHY
ROBERT MURRAY
JEREMIAH BISHOP
DARREN FARLEY
JOHN LLOYD
WILLIAM RODMAN
HANK TRENT
PAUL CALLOWAY
JASON HAMBY
RYAN McINTYRE
BARRY JUREK
DOUG OAKES
JAMES MEANEY
DAVE BERNDT
PETE SMITH
GARR GAST
MIKE O’CONNOR
MIKE SCHAFFNER
JANELE PARSONS
ZACH PARSONS
SHAWN PARSONS
MARK SOMERVILLE
PETER BEREZUK
DAVID EGGLESTON
RILEY EWEN
HARRY CONNELLEY

You sure one of those names wasn't a freudian slip?

Quote :

Ken Cornett wrote : You sure one of those names wasn't a freudian slip?

Ken,

Nope!