Up to the year 1850 every man in Kentucky considered himself a soldier, and was so considered in the eyes of the law. Until the Third Constitution was adopted, every male citizen from the age of twenty to forty-five, with a few exceptions, was on the enrolled militia and reported at a mustering place on specified dates and there took part in military drills. Such was the law old Virginia inherited from England, and it was also the law when Kentucky became a State, and, as before stated, remained a law until 1850. To-day every able-bodied man from eighteen to forty-five years of age is enrolled as a soldier of the United States under compulsion to respond if called upon in time of war. If he does not belong to the regular army or navy, or is not a member of the national guard, he then belongs to the reserve militia.

Previous to about the year 1820 the militia muster was a gathering of citizen-soldiers who met for the purpose of drilling, and all devoted their time while on the muster grounds to military exercises conducted according to military tactics. However, about five years after the second war with England, interest in the military features of these gatherings began to decline, and during the second quarter of the century all of the musters were more or less a farce.

The law required all able-bodied men, with a few exceptions, to report for duty at the musters, and imposed a fine for non-attendance. The company musters usually took place in April, June, August, and September; the battalion usually in May, and the regimental in October. In the early days a company consisted of from fifty to one hundred men, including officers; two to four companies constituted a battalion, and two to four battalions formed a regiment. The number of men in these various organizations was governed principally by the extent of the population in the locality.

Among the many places in the county on which companies met to drill were: The courthouse yard, the Russell Old Field, the Andy Craig place, Kincheloe's Bluff, Morehead's Field (now Central City), the George Clark place, Thomas Sumner's farm, the Solomon Rhoads farm, the Hunt Old Field, William Bell's, the Vanlandingham Old Place, the Jim Taggart farm, Wyatt Wells', the Mosley Collins Drake farm, Old Liberty, Mike Lovell's, Old Millport, and the Gish Old Field. Up to about 1820 most of the battalion and regimental drills took place in Greenville. After that time the place of rendezvous for the men in the southern part of the county was changed to the Russell Old Field, southeast of Greenville, near what is now Pleasant Hill Church. In the meantime regimental musters also took place on the Gish Old Field, south of Bremen, and other fields in the northern part of the county. These two regiments, it is said, on several occasions drilled together on the Russell Old Field.Reduced facsimile of commission showing appointment of William Bradford as Captain of Militia, August 2, 1799

Very little documentary data bearing on the early history of the militia in Muhlenberg is now extant, and as far as I am aware none exists pertaining to its later history in the county. An old commission, still preserved, shows that William Bradford was among the first local men to serve as a captain. Others may have been appointed at the same time, but none preceded him. He probably later filled other positions in the militia. A photograph of the Bradford commission is here reproduced. On the back of the original is written: "Muhlenberg County, Sct. This day came William Bradford before me, a justice of the peace for said county, and made oath as Captain of the Militia company. Given under my hand this 20th day of February, 1800. Wm. Bell."

From a few of the other commissions still preserved I gather the following facts: Charles Fox Wing was "appointed Lieutenant in the Twenty-fourth regiment of Militia, on August 2, 1799"; Alney McLean was appointed Ensign in the same regiment on the same date; Lewis Kincheloe on September 30, 1800, was "appointed Lieutenant-Colonel commandant of the Fortieth regiment of Militia to fill the vacancy occasioned by the resignation of William Campbell, Esquire." William Bell, on February 9, 1801, was "commissioned Paymaster, with the rank of Lieutenant in the Fortieth regiment." Lewis Reno, on May 24, 1802, was "commissioned Ensign in the Fortieth regiment." Thomas Randolph, on March 22, 1803, was "commissioned Captain in the Fortieth regiment."

A certificate of exemption, written on letter paper, reads: "Kentucky. At a court-martial held for the Fortieth Regiment of Militia in the County of Muhlenberg on the 24th day of May, 1802; Ordered, that George Lovelace be and he is hereby exempt from military duty in future for and on account of his having his arm broke. A Copy Test. Charles Fox Wing, Judge Advocate."

An official notice, written on a small piece of paper and addressed to Captain Samuel Weir, reads:

Sir: You will have your Company parade at Solomon Rhoads's on the 17th day of May next by ten o'clock in order to hold a Battalion Muster. You will also have your Company parade in like manner at William Bell's on the second day of October next in order to hold a Regimental Muster. The Drill Muster will be held on the last Wednesday and Thursday in September next at William Bell's. The Court of Assessment of fines will be held also at William Bell's on the last Monday in November.

As already stated, from about the year 1825 until the law obliging all men to drill was abolished, the musters were more or less a farce. The laws regulating the militia of the Commonwealth were amended and changed so often that, as a consequence, they became more complicated than the maneuvers were unmilitary. Humphrey Marshall, in 1824 ("History of Kentucky," Vol. 2, page 14), wrote: "It is in vain to suggest that neither officer nor soldier will ever trouble himself to know the law, when it may, and probably will, be changed before he has an opportunity of reducing his knowledge to practice." Musters became gatherings in which everybody participated, regardless of age or social position. The men who attended were not so much prompted by a desire to drill, and thus live up to that article of the Constitution, as they were to take advantage of the chance to mingle with the crowd of men, women, and children, renew old friendships, make new ones, hear the news, see the races, trade horses, partake of a good dinner, and incidentally have a good time at "the big to-do."

The military features of these affairs grew insignificant as compared with those of their social, political, and business nature. The ordinary picnic basket was too small for these gatherings. Trunks and boxes packed with fried chicken, boiled ham, roasted pork, pies and other edibles, with coffee-pots and whisky-jugs, were brought to the place of rendezvous in wagons, and everybody was welcome to their contents. Gunsmiths were in abundance. Since the greater number of people came in wagons or on horseback, there was necessarily a large aggregation of horses, from colts and two-year-olds down to worn-out plow-horses, and from carefully groomed quarter-nags to neglected horses whose tails and manes were filled with burrs. This led to the appearance of blacksmiths, who repaired wagons and shod horses. It also resulted in much "horse swapping," which in turn gave occasion for betting and horse-racing. The combination led to drinking, and drinking frequently brought on "fist and skull fights" and other disturbances.

In those days, as in the earlier days, every man furnished his own gun--muzzle-loaders of any sort, flintlock rifles, muskets, shotguns, or horse-pistols. Those who had no firearms to bring, or who had forgotten them, would enter the drills with a trimmed sapling or a cornstalk--consequently the name, the Cornstalk Militia.

When the captain was ready to order his company into ranks he usually mounted a convenient stump, rail fence, or empty barrel and called out: "Oh, yes! Oh, yes! Oh, yes! All you who belong to Captain So-and-so's company (giving his name) fall into ranks and parade!" The "Oh, yes," it might be well to add, is derived from the old French "oyez"--"hear ye." Hence the Court of Oyer and Terminer--to hear and to finish. If the captain's first order failed to move his men he would again appeal to them--"Everybody in my company, off the fence there and fall into line! Now come on, men, come on, everybody, and let's get started with our revolutions!" After all, or nearly all, of his company had responded to his call, he ordered "'Tention, the whole!" after which most men gave him more or less attention. Right or left dress was usually lengthened into the command to "Look to the left and dress!" or right, as the case might be. "Stop!" or "Hold!" was the command for halt. It is also said that although keeping step was a matter of indifference or beyond the control of some of the privates, they were nevertheless permitted to remain in ranks and follow as best they could or would through the drills.

Company, battalion, and regimental drills were conducted on the Russell Old Field from May to October, making a total of at least six different musters on that tract every year. It became a great gathering-place, especially when a Big Muster (a battalion or regimental drill) was scheduled. Horse-races on such occasions were then by far the most prominent feature on the program, and they soon became more frauds than the drills were farces. In fact, the Russell Old Field is even to-day more frequently referred to as the Old Russell Race Track than the Old Russell Muster Field, although no races have taken place there since the days of the militia muster.

The Russell Race Track and muster grounds, like every other historic place in the county, is the subject of many absurd tales. One of these pertains to the threshing of wheat. In the early times one of the methods the farmer employed to get his wheat out of the chaff was to "tramp" it out. He located a stretch of ground that would pack solid. On this he built a ring fifty to one hundred feet in diameter. After scattering his wheat on the inner edge of this circle he walked his horse over it and thus trod out the grain. On some farms this was done on the wooden floor of the barn. At any rate, the story is told that after the Russell Race Track was finished a certain farmer brought his wheat, stock and all, to the track on a race day and scattered it over the course, and that while running the races the horses trod all the grain out of the chaff, thus relieving the raiser of that wheat of any further work except to "rake up the golden grain."Ruins of The O. C. Vanlandingham, Sr., Residence, Paradise Country

All the traditions regarding this old Muster Field teem with romance and comedy except one--the killing of Isom Sheffield by Bob Jenkins. This tragedy took place in the fall of 1842 and during the time the Regulators were hunting down the outlaws. It is said Jenkins was in sympathy with the Regulators and that Sheffield disapproved of some of their work. These two men had argued this question on several occasions, and their disagreement soon developed into enmity. Both came to the Big Muster. Jenkins was sitting on a log when Sheffield, who was approaching from the rear, either by accident or intention hit Jenkins with a sumac stick. A few short words had passed between them an hour before, and now the provocation for a fight presented itself. After a short but fierce struggle Sheffield ran away from Jenkins, some say because he feared the many friends of Jenkins who had gathered around, while others declare he ran to get a weapon concealed in his wagon. Jenkins, highly infuriated, followed him with an open knife in his hand. When Jenkins had gotten within a few feet of his antagonist and was ready to make a stab, Sheffield tripped on a root and fell. Jenkins immediately thrust his knife into Sheffield's back, killing him instantly. Jenkins surrendered to the authorities, gave bond, and the following year was acquitted on the plea of self-defense, but some years later was shot from ambush.

After this fatal event the preachers and church people began a campaign against the meetings on the Russell Muster Field. For a year or two the races were discontinued, but soon large and reckless crowds gathered again and things went from bad to worse until 1850, when the militia musters were discontinued throughout the State. 1

James Weir, in his boyhood days, saw the decline of the old militia muster, and in 1850, shortly after he wrote "Lonz Powers," saw its final fall. He frequently attended the drills on the Russell Race Track. Observations made there and at Old White Plains in Christian County suggested, it is said, much of what appears in his chapter on the old military muster. Historians generally either refer simply to the old-time military musters, or in the course of a few words vaguely suggest what they were. The following satirical description, taken from "Lonz Powers," is probably the only thing of its kind ever written, and deserves to rank among Kentucky classics:

Every nation has a memorable day--a day of songs and rejoicings. With us the fourth of July, twenty-second of February, and Christmas, are all holidays, or days of joy and pleasure. But of all the grand days in this martial old Commonwealth of ours, those set apart for militia training are (at least in the estimation of militia captains) the grandest and most exciting. If you should happen within ten miles of a militia muster on one of these eventful days, every step you took, and every object that met your gaze, would remind you of war, with its glorious and thrilling panoply, its noise and wild tumult. Boys, negroes, and men, on foot and on horseback, in eart, wagon, and carriage, single, double, and treble, are crowding from every direction and hurrying with anxious speed toward the scene where mimic battles are to be fought and won. Old shotguns, rusty rifles, long-untried fowling-pieces, cornstalks, and hickory sticks are in great demand, while the Sunday fineries, drawn from their secret hiding-places, adorn the martial forms of their proud-treading owners. Cider-wagons, ginger-cakes, apples, whisky, and all the other et ceteras of the camp, are rushing pellmell into the place of rendezvous. Arriving at the parade field. your ears are greeted with every imaginable noise--the squealing of pigs, neighing of chargers, barking of dogs, braying of asses, laughing of happy negroes, and hoarse commands of military chieftains being mingled together in the most harmonious concord of discord. Jingling spurs, rusty sabers, black cockades, and the fierce little red plume, everywhere meet your wandering eye and fill up the interstices of this moving, animated scene.

Such an exhibition of warlike enthusiasm might have been seen, if you had only been present, dear reader, at Pleasant Grove, on the morning after Ruins of the "Jim Taggart Old Place" the night described in our last chapter. Noise and wild confusion were the order of the day. The thrilling fife and a cracked drum were pealing forth their stirring notes, and calling loudly upon the brave sons of old Kentucky to shoulder their arms and sustain the glory of their ancestors. Generals, colonels, majors, captains (we have no lack of titled gentry in Kentucky), and privates were mingled together in a confused mass, talking, laughing, shouting, swearing, drinking, and every now and then taking a pleasant knock-down, merely to vary the bill of entertainment, keep up the excitement, and cultivate a proper military ardour. Candidates were there, too (like all other aspirants for office), shaking hands, treating, speaking, and making known to the warlike assembly the past, present, and future (they were no prophets, merely reasoning from cause to effect) glory and renown of Kentucky and her gallant sons. Horse-racing, cock-fighting, rifle-shooting, wrestling, and boxing, upon this occasion, all had their votaries, and all were busily engaged in their respective amusements. Babel, in her palmlest day, was a mere "tempest in a teapot" compared with a militia muster in the backwoods of Kentucky. The Carnival at Rome or the ancient Saturnalia of the Romans, in the very height of their revelling, would be tame and insipid when placed in juxtaposition with such an occasion. We know of nothing that can be compared, for noise and wild confusion, with a regiment of boisterous, merry, reckless militia, along with their chivalrons leaders, adorned with flowing red sash, bullet-button coats, tin-foil epaulets, and stiff, ragged, red plumes, just preceding or succeeding "the training."

But suddenly a great change comes over the moving, tossing mass gathered on the battlefield at Pleasant Grove. Some order (a devilish little, by-the-by, if it can be called order at all) takes the place of the late disorder, and a comparative calm--in a figurative sense--settles down upon this raging storm. The commanding officer of the day, stripping his saddle of its red girth, belts on his trusty, trenchant blade, dons his swallow-tailed blue, adorned with bullet-buttons and red tape, borrows the best charger he can find, scrambles on his back with the assistance of a stump or a kind hand, and, when once safely moored, waves his plumed beaver around his warlike head, and shouts his orders to parade. Now comes a busy, stirring, wild, and moving panorama. Men, before ignoble and unknown from the common herd, draw from their bosoms, pockets, and hats the red plume and sash (that is, if they are so lucky as to have any), and soon become the leaders and chieftains of the day. A fierce struggle now commences who shall get their companies first formed into a line, or who shall first gain a pre‰mption right to the shade of a tree, under which to marshal and form. Although each company has, or rather has had at some former time, a captain and inferior officers (for they often assemble on parade-ground with out any), in reality every man in the corps, being fully competent to command, takes the responsibility of giving orders.

It may be thought an easy matter by the inexperienced to form a company of men into a straight line; but if it is so, our militia captains have never discovered that fact. They commence at one end of the winding line, and with threats, entreaties, and much trouble get a tolerably fair and straight row, especially if there be any corn-ridges in the immediate neighborhood, but, unfortunately, before they reach the other extreme, their soldiers having a predisposition for Mahometanism, are generally in a crescent, and then they are compelled to begin afresh. And thus we have seen them go on for hours and hours, and at last end their labours, not being in much better array or condition than at the beginning of their arduous and impossible undertaking. Tall, low, long, short, thin, and fat, old and young, men and boys, clothed with fur and wool hats, caps, and no hats at all; cloth coats and jeans, calico and linsey, and no coats at all; boots, shoes, and moccasins, and no shoes at all; new and old pants, white, black, and striped, and no pants at all; shirts ruffled and unruffled, white, black, green, and gray, cotton, linen, and calico, and no shirts at all--are all mingled together in the most beautiful and checkered confusion, giving a motley and ludicrous appearance to the ununiformed, straggling, and crooked corps.

The officers are generally the most silly and ignorant men of the community, for none but such will seek a command in so farcical a concern as a militia company; and most frequently elected, as the saying is, unanimously, for they are considered most "unanimous fools," and no one will vote either for or against them. As for a knowledge of military tacties, they never dream of any such a thing. They are unable (with a few exceptions, of course) to form even a straight line, unless they have the assistance of a ditch or a corn-row, and as for giving any other orders save "About face!" (to which they add "right!") "March!" it is a thing not only unknown but unheard of. Those who can read are accustomed to carry "Scott's Tactics" in their pockets, from which they read out the different commands or man&oe;uvres, but as for knowing what is then to be done, after spelling through the various movements, they don't think of such a thing, for it is none of their business. They are placed there to give the orders, and it is the duty of the company to obey; and if they fail to do so, then it is their own fault, for their skilful captains have read out all the necessary instructions as plain as Scott himself could give them.The Mosley Collins Drake House, Long Creek Country

We know of but one real, genuine, whole-souled, praiseworthy militia captain, and he has now left the country and moved to Arkansas. He was a glorious, jolly fellow, that old captain of ours, and if ever a military leader deserved a monument of brass, he was that one; and we will give a ten at any time we are called on towards bestowing that honour to his memory. He was, during his soldiering life, the most popular chieftain of the age--always excepting Old Hickory and his sons, the young Hickories--and we will venture to say his company was the most numerous and well-attended of the regiment, so long as he was permitted to drill under his own laws and in his own spirited way.

His mode of operating (and we make it known for the benefit of martial spirits) was to form his corps as near into a straight line as possible; but he only attempted this difficult man&oe;uvre once a day, and that very early in the morning, for after that, not even with the assistance of a fence or ditch could he keep them either perpendicular or rectilinear. Then marching at the head of his brave companions, he opened with a vigorous pursuit of the enemy, and at a suitable and convenient spot, made known to him by his spy (for he always threw out an advance guard), he generally discovered the foe, disguised and changed by the fairies into a half dozen blue or red (most frequently red) pails, and well filled with mint julep, a ladle in each (a trick of the enemy to induce a charge) and commanded by that old bruiser and man-overthrower John Barleycorn, always ready and willing (like Wellington at Waterloo) to be attacked. There is no shrinking or giving back in John, and, like Old Zack, the word retreat is unknown in his tactics, let the enemy be ever so fierce and numerous.

Our gallant captain was one of the same sort, a real Murat for daring charges; and, forming his men into platoons of six--for he scorned to take advantage of his superior number--led them manfully to the contest, full upon the battery of the foe, although ready to pour out destruction upon himself and followers. "Make ready!" was his hoarse command, and down went the dippers; "Take aim!" and up they came on a level with the mouth; "Fire!" and away goes the liquid stream, not of fire, but of firewater, down the thirsty throats of his soldiers. "Next platoon, march!" (there was no pricking of bayonets to urge them on); "Make ready, take aim, fire!" and thus each individual of the band had an opportunity to display his nerve and steadiness under a point-blank shot from the stubborn foe. Nor was our noble captain content with battling this little squad of the enemy, for, like a true hero that he was, he allowed the foe to send after fresh ammunition, and bring up the reserve, squad after squad, and still continue the fight, showing no quarter and asking none, until he alone of all that gallant corps is left standing to face the "red coats." "I see them on their winding way," was the favourite air of this fighting band of heroes, and many a battle have they fought with the "Britishers," as the red pails were called, when spirited on by this good old tune.

The followers of the captain, unlike other militia, were far more steady when going into the fray than when coming out. We remember you well, most jovial son of Mars, and wherever you may now be, and whatever may be your fate, we will never cease to give you honor, although you were a militia captain. We have fought and have been defeated under your banner, but never disgraced, for, like conquerors, we always slept upon the field of battle and close around the battery of the enemy.

The martial farce is now over; the red plumes have vanished, the bullet-buttons are numbered among the things "that were," and bright sabers no longer glitter in the sunbeams. They who but a moment since lorded it over their fellow-men, dubbed as generals, colonels, majors, and captains, and as grandly and gloriously as Napoleon and his marshals, or the Grand Turk and his pachas, are now but common citizens, without command, and no longer in authority; and (what is still worse for them) liable at any moment to be soundly thrashed by any of the sovereigns they may have been so unfortunate as to insult during the drill!--a privilege not unfrequently enforced, very much to the discomfort of the gallant commanders.

The soul-inspiring drum and fife have ceased, and the old forest no longer echoes back the martial roll. Boys, negroes and stragglers, wanting the excitement of military music, and glutted with warlike pageantry, are now making hasty preparations for departure. Cider-barrels and cake-baskets are empty; and their happy owners and venders, shaking their swelling purses, go on their way rejoicing. All are now gone, or preparing to leave, save those brave spirits who intend to sleep upon the field and upon their arms, for the very simple reason that they have fallen victims to Bacchus and are unable to leave.

And such is a militia muster--a great, grand, sometimes laughable but always silly farce, and not only tolerated, but legalized and even commanded by our laws. Yet do we suffer, and, like good citizens, obey--three times annually leaving our labour and business to undergo this most absurd of all absurdities, a "militia training."