So back in May, I spent 8 days and 7 nights at the Fort at No. 4 up in Charlestown, NH. I was there for a number of reasons. First, they needed someone to do a cooking demo for a few school groups going through, and that’s entirely my wheelhouse. Second, there was a Rendezvous going on (sort of an 18th century “con”) and they wanted people in the Fort. Third, and perhaps most important, I wanted to teach myself how to bake in a beehive oven.

The Fort is a wonderful and very magical place. It does have running water in the bathrooms (cold only, and only in the summer), and the bathrooms are set up outhouse style (you have to go out of the fort to a small two stall privy to use them). There is electricity in some of the buildings, but when I’m there I rarely use it other than to charge my phone (which I do in a staff room that is not open to the public, during the day when I’m not using it). I do use the fridge in the staff room for keeping food from going off, but only because there is no root cellar there for me to keep things in. If there was, I probably wouldn’t use the staff room at all.

So, in spending a week at the Fort, I learned a number of things about myself. First and foremost, my stress level went down tremendously when I wasn’t reading FaceBook and the news. About the end of the third day, living in a one room cabin and sleeping on a rope bed began to feel like the “new normal” and I settled in very nicely. The rope bed has a lovely, fluffy down feather tick mattress, over which I laid my sheepskins so that the pin feathers didn’t prick my bottom while sleeping. It was still a bit chilly in Charlestown during the evenings, so I was happy to have the warmth of the fireplace radiating beside my bed. If I had wanted, I could have kept the fire going all night, but I didn’t see the point. The residual heat from the beehive oven actually kept it quite dry and comfortable (outside was a bit moist and cool). I learned that sleeping on the rope bed, my shoulder ceases hurting almost entirely… but my hips go out of whack instead and I must pinch a nerve. Apparently I should spend a every other night flipping between my bed and a rope bed to get the best sleep possible. LOL!

I learned that you get up early because there’s light, and you go to bed early (for me at least, because I’m a night owl usually) because there isn’t light. The cabin I’m in is lit entirely by the hearth and candles. I have a large candelabra, several smaller candle stands, and a few lanterns. Most nights, I burned a single candle and not much more, because there didn’t seem much point. The one night I was attempting to finish a sewing project, I actually lit up six candles in the candelabra, and that was enough light to allow me to complete my work. It was interesting, seeing the way my body adjusted when I cut out electric light from my life.

The entire time I was there, I dressed as a Fort dweller. I wore a petticoat (a skirt) or two depending on the temperature, and a bedgown (which is a type of blouse that ties or pins closed), a chemise that covered my elbows but not my lower arms, and a frilly cap that covered most of my hair. I wore an apron the entire time, partly to keep my bedgown closed and partly because much of what I was doing was dirty.

I cleaned the house I was staying in. I swept at least twice a day, and always found more dust. It’s a hazard of burning wood – the ash gets everywhere. I washed dishes in the dry sink, with water heated over the fire in a tin kettle. I cooked over the fire in cast iron pots and a spider (basically a frying pan on legs, that allows you to cook over the coals). If I didn’t make a fire, I didn’t eat cooked food, so I made a fire every day. I carted my water in from elsewhere in the Fort. I washed myself in the evenings over a bucket in front of the fire.

I think the most striking thing I learned was that it’s really hard to stay clean when you’re living like that. We are absolutely, completely spoiled by showers. I spent almost 45 minutes each night, cleaning myself from top to bottom. I didn’t wash my hair with soap every night, but I did wet it down and scrub my scalp with a washcloth. I used soap on all the “important bits” every day. I made sure to thoroughly clean my feet at least once a day, and always before bed. It took a long time, and sometimes I didn’t feel like doing it, but I always felt better after my evening “spitz bath.” Still, when AWA came to pick me up from the Fort after my week, I noted he drove home with the windows open. I cannot tell you the filth that came off me when I showered at home. It was startling, because I really thought I was pretty clean the whole time. I’d made a point of it! But the bottom of the tub told a different story.

I did well learning my beehive oven use. I have now baked about ten or twelve loaves of bread and several pies in the beehive oven, and am comfortable with the use of it. I learned how to close certain windows while bringing the oven up to temperature, because otherwise the wind would whip the smoke down from the chimney and right back into the cabin. I discovered that it doesn’t matter how many windows you close at night, mosquitoes will find their way down the short, straight chimney to eat you. Might as well leave the window open for a nice breeze.

While I was there, I collected all my hardwood ash. It’s my intention to use it to create lye in the autumn, so that I can then make both clothes washing soap (which is sort of soupy and mushy) and body washing soap (which can be in bar form). I hope to make two batches of bar soap, for comparison… one batch made with my homemade lye, and one made with commercially purchased lye designed for modern soap making. My sister makes soap, both lye and other types, and I’ve helped a number of times, so I figure between the two of us we can probably do a great “compare and contrast” for the Fort patrons.

The profound thing I discovered about myself, is that when I am at the Fort and away from the modern hustle and bustle, I am more quiet, more peaceful, and less klutzy. I tend to rush around from task to task, overly busy at all times when I’m at home. I have so much to do between taking care of the house and cooking and kids, writing books, planning events, marketing, helping out AWA with the blog, and the dozen other things I do every day. When I rush, I do stupid stuff, like trip and fall, or cut myself with knives. At the Fort, the pace was just much slower. I had as much or more work to do, honestly, but there was no rush. Part of it was that I was by myself for the majority of the time (school groups and other people were only during open hours, from 10am to 3pm generally). But part of it was just that I knew what needed doing, and I did it. There was no rush. I just had to move along at an even pace, and I did. No trips and falls. No cutting myself. I did get one splinter, but it got dealt with and I was fine.

There’s so much to be learned by doing things “the old fashioned way.” I like doing it because I love taking those old recipes (whether for food, or soap, or whatever) and trying them out. Every time I do something, I learn new stuff, about myself, and about history. Yes, it’s good for learning how to live without modern machinery. But it’s also just good for the soul, in my opinion. Doing things with your hands, getting more in touch with the world we live in, breathing in fresh air and allowing your circadian rhythms to sync up… it’s all good.

The Fort was designed to teach adults and children about the history of the French and Indian War, and about the colonization of New Hampshire. Perhaps it’s also teaching us about how to live, going forward into our future. I think we’ve lost a lot of knowledge that we used to have. Those people who lived in the original Fort were not stupid. They did amazing things, and without the machinery and computing power that we “cheat” with today. We’ve lost some of that drive. It’s time we got it back.

I’m not entirely sure how to go about injecting that drive into today’s youth, but it’s something I think must be done, and as quickly as possible. My own kids are a mixed bag. I will say that the one who spent the most time “visiting the past” with me is the one with the most insane drive for success and internal motivation. I think that’s something to keep in mind. Allowing children to actually DO things, instead of just reading them or watching them in a video, gives them the opportunity to invest themselves. In order to become a successful person, you have to fail. Without failure,  you don’t learn to work as hard. You don’t learn that … that thing which made America such an amazing place when it was founded. People flocked here because with hard work and effort, with blood, sweat, and tears, you could better yourself and your family. That’s not America today, though.

We need more children learning trades, learning to put their personal sweat equity into the work they’re doing. We need more adults teaching it, and yes, pushing it. The stigma of going into the trades should be eradicated, and instead, the plumbers, carpenters, welders, electricians, HVAC folks, and all the others, should be elevated and celebrated. They are the ones carrying us forward, for the most part.