Rethinking the social role of the militia: community-building in Antebellum Kentucky.

IN REQUIEM FOR A NUN (1951) WILLIAM FAULKNER PERFORMS SOME literary backtracking when he introduces the earliest inhabitants of his fictional Jefferson, Mississippi, and explains the origin of the Yoknapatawpha County courthouse. His story, set in the 1830s, opens with the capture of a gang of ruffians:

   [A] gang--three or four--of Natchez Trace bandits ... [was] captured by
   chance by an incidental band of civilian more-or-less militia and brought
   in to the Jefferson jail because it was the nearest one, the militia band
   being part of a general muster at Jefferson two days before for a
   Fourth-of-July barbecue, which by the second day had been refined by hardy
   elimination into one drunken brawling which rendered even the hardiest
   survivors vulnerable enough to be ejected from the settlement by the
   civilian residents[.]

The story continues as Jefferson's residents struggle to find a suitable place to secure the miscreants, but of greater import for this study is the brief appearance of the local militia company. Faulkner's portrayal of the volunteer soldiers conforms to popular perceptions of the early national militia. Incompetent at best, dangerous at worst, militiamen usually appear in the historical narrative as buffoons who drank too much, poked each other with cornstalk weapons, and inevitably shot their commander in the backside with a rusty, antiquated musket. Caricatures of the overaccoutred captain and his clownish part-time charges are familiar to even casual scholars of the new republic. (1)

Yet even in Faulkner's amusingly inept company of Yoknapatawpha "more-or-less" citizen-soldiers, there are hints of something more at work. The militia had mustered in preparation for the upcoming July Fourth celebration, an occasion that throughout the nation traditionally attracted men in uniform. Militiamen frequently organized the day's activities, made patriotic speeches at the afternoon barbecue, and concluded the evening among their neighbors and friends with a long series of toasts. The Jefferson company also deemed it their duty to forego further entertainment and capture the wandering felons, upholding another responsibility generally ascribed to citizen-soldiers--the maintenance of civil order.

The militiamen's appearance in Faulkner's tale bears one additional similarity to the traditional understanding of the militia's place in the early nineteenth century: it is peripheral and fleeting. Beyond stereotypes, little is known of the ways the militia affected American communities in the early republic. In his study of the trans-Appalachian frontier, Malcolm J. Rohrbough hints at the social influence of the militia, noting that musters "were the largest gathering of people" communities witnessed, where "men would gather in small groups to play at politics, swap horses, engage in rough and tumble, debate the leading questions of the day (the price of land and crops), or simply exchange news." The actual breadth and diversity of militia activity suggest that a reassessment of its role in the early nineteenth century is in order. (2)

The following pages attempt to demonstrate the social significance of citizen-soldiers to the evolution of Kentucky society from 1790 to 1850. Kentucky provides a number of conducive ingredients for this type of study. Most important is the timing of the state' s settlement and growth. Explored and settled in the 1770s and 1780s, the former Virginia county became a state in 1792 and entered the nineteenth century as one of the union's newest members. In the span of one generation, outposts like Fort Boonesborough and Bryant's Station gave way to burgeoning cities: Louisville pulled river trade off the Ohio, and Lexington became known as the Athens of the West, a center of social, political, and economic activity. This pattern of progress permits the examination of Kentucky's development from a scattering of frontier settlements to a mature network of thriving communities just sixty years later. (3)

The focus on a single state also promotes the depth of understanding necessary to make a valid assessment of the relationships that existed between citizen-soldiers and their evolving communities. In the early republic most Americans maintained a provincial orientation. Local institutions, administered by local citizens, carried out the activities and responsibilities that ensured the continuity of daily life. The average farmer or shopkeeper rarely encountered a state official, let alone a public figure of national office or reputation. Perspectives remained local or regional; even widening conceptions of national identity were rooted in the local experience. By establishing the relationship between militia activities and the progression of Kentucky society, this study presses beyond the traditional boundaries of militia history to reveal the citizen-soldiers' influence on the transformation of frontier settlements into nineteenth-century communities. As more than an occasional military force, the militia established community identities and social structures, participated in politics, kept the public peace, and encouraged economic activity. (4)

Beginning in 1788 and continuing virtually uninterrupted for the next sixty years, Kentucky's militia companies sponsored and organized a variety of community gatherings that provided both festivity and fellowship. In June 1842, for example, the Georgetown Artillery Company and the Stamping Ground Guards, two volunteer militia companies from Scott County, in Kentucky's north-central Bluegrass region, decided to host "a splendid military and civil celebration" of the upcoming anniversary of the nation's independence. Intending to make the occasion a celebration to be remembered, they invited all the volunteer companies of both Kentucky and Ohio, and "the citizens generally of the two States." The six-day event offered a welcome break from the hot fields of tobacco and hemp and promised great food, fun, and friendly military competition. Although attendance fell short of the anticipated two thousand militiamen, approximately eight hundred citizen-soldiers mustered, creating a spectacle that attracted an additional three to four thousand civilian spectators. Companies drilled, marched, and fired muskets and artillery. Men in uniform escorted visitors around the encampment, nicknamed "Camp Scott," and invited them to examine the canvas accommodations and to judge the skills of camp cooks. Each day, crowds gathered to hear a company officer or local politician hold forth on American virtues and heroes, and on Sunday, morning and afternoon sermons blessed the faithful. The camp's discipline and order and the "gentlemanly politeness of all the military" greatly impressed a newspaper reporter, inspiring "a confident assurance that ... the country had nothing to fear from foreign foes or domestic enemies." (5)

The significance of such gatherings, however, was of greater import than the relief they gave from sun and plow and the opportunity they provided to turn out in military splendor. First, militia events encouraged the cultivation of a national identity, a personal association with the United States that took root in the Revolutionary era. Second, the militia advanced a regional identity by promoting an affinity for Kentucky and the western reaches of the country. Third, gatherings of citizen-soldiers strengthened the ties that bound disparate individuals into a local community of neighbors. Lastly, the militia's public appearances reinforced the social hierarchies of race, class, and gender, while maintaining the cross-class hegemony of white males. In short, citizen-soldiers, beyond being the nation's first line of defense, gave substance and form to the complex and still inchoate sensibility of shared identities on the frontier.

The most prominent of the militia's many public appearances occurred on Independence Day. A typical Fourth began around ten o'clock in the morning, when uniformed militiamen gathered in the town square or around the courthouse steps, armed with pistols, swords, rifles or muskets, and in some instances an artillery piece. The crack of muskets often welcomed the summer sun. A militia officer or town elder delivered an address, expounding upon the challenges and triumphs of America's past. Mustering into formation, the militiamen then paraded through narrow streets and lanes, destined for a broad field or nearby spring on the outskirts of town. There, under the outreached arms of oaks and sycamores, the community congregated for a repast of barbecue, beverages, and fellowship. As the heat of the day dissipated into twilight, company officers and local dignitaries, with empty plates and full stomachs, rose from their chairs and through a series of toasts reminded their audience of the reason for their gathering. Following the last toast, usually offered to the "American Fair," a reference to wives and sweethearts, the assemblage marched back to town; after twenty toasts or so, the evening parade likely displayed less precision than the morning march. Residents then peacefully "retired to their respective abodes," reassured by the virtue and military prowess of their neighbors. Some communities concluded the day with "a splendid ball ... where the citizen soldiers recounted the pleasures, and in the smiles of beauty forgot the fatigues of the day." (6)

The anniversaries of George Washington's birthday, celebrated each February 22, differed little in participation and substance from the July events and offered the same colorful diversion from usual routines. Even in relatively mild climes, winter limited the day's outdoor activities, although early morning gun salutes were not uncommon. Occasionally companies organized a procession that took a turn or two around town, but soon after, orators, toastmasters, and their audience retired to the welcoming warmth and comfort of a local hotel, church, or Masonic hall. There they enjoyed food, drink, and the traditional medley of toasts. The Fourth of July and Washington's Birthday were annual observances, but the militia celebrated other events as well. Military anniversaries were particularly popular, especially those of battles in which Kentuckians had sacrificed their native sons, like the 1813 battle of the Thames or Andrew Jackson's victory at New Orleans in 1815. (7)

Anniversaries were reason enough to celebrate, but visits by living war heroes, presidents, and other nineteenth-century celebrities created their own brand of excitement, and militiamen took seriously their duty to welcome famous travelers. In 1850 Captain F. Kern of Louisville assured city officials that he and his men were in constant readiness "not only to do service to [our] state and country but at all times to give the best military reception that [we] can to distinguished strangers." Most impressive was the reception that met the Marquis de Lafayette on his travels through the United States in 1824-25. Louisville militiamen began to prepare for his visit months in advance, even christening a volunteer company with the flattering but rather unoriginal appellation, the Lafayette Guards. When the general finally appeared at Louisville's waterfront, the Lafayette Guards, the Lafayette Cavalry, the Louisville Guards, the Light Infantry, and an artillery company greeted him. Thousands lined the streets, women and children filled the windows of every building, and flowers and handkerchiefs littered his path. The following day Lafayette crossed the river to Jeffersonville, Indiana, and then continued into central Kentucky. In Woodford, Fayette, and Scott Counties crowds flocked to see this living symbol of the Revolution, framed by ranks of militiamen. (8)

The militia put on similar but less ambitious receptions for presidents James Monroe, Andrew Jackson, Martin Van Buren, and William Henry Harrison, for local politicians and military men, and for the inauguration of Kentucky governors. (9) During such visits, the community bestowed its gratitude on the man of the hour with an endless series of handshakes and a nineteenth-century version of the rubber chicken dinner. Most popular on the barbecue circuit was Henry Clay, who received so many invitations from admiring Kentuckians while on his journeys to and from Congress that he surely never went long without a meal. Whenever he joined a community for an evening of food and drink, militiamen turned out, as they did in Shelbyville in 1829. "Captain Bowlin's Company of Artillery and a large number of the citizens of town and country" joined Clay and, forming a procession, marched "to the place designated for the Barbecue." There participants performed the traditional rituals of celebration and offered toasts to the honored guest, men of import, and other timely topics. (10)

Each of these militia occasions presented participants with a menu of toasts and speeches that drew upon a common set of symbols and ideologies to promote nationalism, regionalism, and localism simultaneously. The chosen subjects--the days citizen-soldiers picked to commemorate and the men they honored with public ceremony--were elements of a shared American culture. (11) In 1788 a Providence, Rhode Island, newspaper commented on the power of community celebrations to create a national identity:

   The establishment of any particular form of government, is a matter of
   sentiment among a free people, and the strength of that government depends
   on the good opinion people in general have of it; it is therefore good
   policy, and a sure mark of patriotism and public virtue, to endeavor as
   much as possible that all ranks and orders of people should be pleased
   with, and should support it, and nothing has a greater tendency to this
   than for the people of all conditions to assemble together, at certain
   times, to join in the celebration of the government under which they live.
   The intention of such a celebration is to conciliate and unite, and by no
   means to offend and divide. (12)

At most of these events, militia companies and especially their officers selected a slate of national heroes and ideals to popularize through toasts. (13) Beyond the rather uninspired toasts to "The United States of America," topics ranged from Washington, Franklin, and Jefferson, to the memory of past patriots ("The Heroes and Sages of '76"), to prescriptives for virtuous citizens ("The principles, valor, and devotion to country which then animated our fathers"), and to the nascent national economy ("The Agriculture and Commerce of the United States"). Whenever the militia mustered, crowds consumed this diet of patriotic ideology and icons--a constellation of ideas and individuals designed to foster an attachment to the nation and its past. (14)

Kentuckians' acceptance of their place within the national culture, however, did not preclude a concurrent regional identity. Well before statehood in 1792, Kentuckians recognized the unique environment of the West. In 1788, at one of the earliest recorded celebrations of the Fourth, two salutes revealed an emerging commitment to the western region: "May the Atlantic States be just, the Western States be Free and both be happy"; and more telling, "The Western world, perpetual Union, on principles of equality, or amicable Separation." Nearly two decades later, at a celebration of the acquisition of Louisiana in 1804, the "Western world" had become better defined, as a toast offered in Scott County demonstrated: "The three western states, Kentucky[,] Tennessee, and Ohio ... unanimous in their patriotism, harmonious in their endeavors to accelerate the growing importance of the western states." Even as midcentury approached and the "West" was beginning to pass them by, Kentuckians maintained their regional identity, toasting "The heroes of the West--The monuments of their fame are to be found in every battle field on which their heroism has been displayed. Posterity will admire, and, when necessary, emulate their gallantry." Militiamen also found occasions to venerate Kentucky itself at statewide jubilees in 1840 and 1841 to mark Kentucky's first settlement at Fort Boonesborough, and in 1842 to commemorate the state's fiftieth anniversary. (15)

As David Waldstreicher has appropriately argued, such expressions of regionalism could have multiple meanings. They could be the voice of a proud people, extolling their unique culture, or they could be the early grumblings of a discontented minority, slipping toward instability, or worse, disunion. In most cases, celebrations of regional identity posed no threat to the national welfare; in fact, they could enhance rather than diminish ties to the rest of the country. Fully aware that toasts would be heard not just by local participants but likely reprinted in newspapers read by Americans across the nation, Kentucky militia officers and politicians used such pronouncements to demonstrate that even on the edge of American civilization, they were just as American as any other citizen. (16) Celebrations of the Louisiana Purchase provide a particularly clear example of the conflation of regionalism and nationalism. At a public dinner in Scott County, where militia officer Richard M. Johnson presided and the militia fired an exclamation of gunfire to every salute, toasts proclaimed, "Citizens of Louisiana, we embrace you as brothers," "The 17 confederated States of America, and territorial appendages," and "The free and uninterrupted navigation of the Mississippi--the highway to national wealth." Even stridently partisan toasts, like "Success to Republicanism--Federalism quake and tremble, the day of judgement is at hand," affirmed that Kentuckians were part of the national political family, not outcasts on a savage and uncivilized frontier. (17)

In addition to encouraging national and regional affiliations, the militia promoted an awareness of locality, a sense of community, and a bond of neighborliness. Muster days, often more a bacchanalian fete or martial burlesque than opportunities for serious military training, were indeed anticipated community events throughout the United States. Relatively small company musters, involving approximately fifty to eighty-five militiamen, usually attracted "a number of people and all happy," as Captain Robert McAfee described a muster of his Harrodsburg command in 1808. The much larger regimental musters that could place eight companies on parade demanded extensive planning and preparation but promised an event to remember. Individuals from every corner of the community lined the streets to watch the militia perform. The scale and activities of an 1809 muster held in Lexington resembled the expansive 1842 July Fourth celebration at Camp Scott in Georgetown. Crowds gathered to watch the military procession, partake "of an excellent Barbecue," and enjoy the traditional toasts. With citizen-soldiers leading the crowds, all were united by the day's experiences, if not a shared table. (18)

Militia companies also celebrated special events in community life. Musters marked the repeal of taxes, the Louisiana Purchase, the christening of a new canal or railroad, and even a squirrel hunt. (19) Approaching the bizarre was the Lexington militia's 1810 venture into an arena not usually associated with military organizations: the theater. When the attempt "to raise money by subscription to purchase the necessary arms ... failed," Lexington's part-time soldiers donned a different type of uniform and staged productions of dramas, tragedies, and comedies, which they hoped would attract "the liberal patronage of the citizens." Only a month into their thespian campaign, however, the militiamen's stage careers suffered a strategic defeat. "[T]he profits of their last performance," the Kentucky Gazette noted, "were but little better than a fifth part of what the society intended to raise at their commencement." Thus soon concluded the militia's sortie into show business. (20)

As volunteers began to replace obligatory enrolled or uniform companies following the War of 1812, competitions among units offered theater of another kind and became as much a reason for community merrymaking as the old quarterly muster days. In 1816 companies from the Bluegrass region converged on Lexington for a test of marksmanship, with the prize of a horse awaiting the best shot. The officers who organized the event, ostensibly for reasons greater than simple fun and festivity, hoped the competition would excite "a spirit of emulation ... amongst the gentlemen composing their command." Eight years later the Lexington Light Infantry battled the Lexington Cadets in "an amiable contest for fame," based upon "which company performed infantry evolutions in the most Military manner." In 1836, when Texas Revolution fever afflicted much of the country, the Citizen Volunteer Artillery of Lexington also held a public target practice "for the purpose of firing at a target of Santa Anna--the best shot will be entitled to wear the cross, 1 year--the 2d best, the half moon--and the 3d, the Star." (21)

Whether holidays, receptions, squirrel hunts, or performances, such events nurtured the transformation of individuals into a community. Like the sides of a ladder joining individual rungs into a unified whole, these public gatherings bound disparate individuals together, but like the ladder's rungs, each person had their place--some higher, some lower--constrained by an implicit social hierarchy. Whenever the militia mustered, men and women, rich and poor, black and white all joined each other in what was a celebration of community in every sense of the word. Even blatantly nationalistic occasions like Independence Day, as Don H. Doyle has demonstrated, "further reinforced the ideals of local unity and common purpose." Family and friends gathered to break bread and watch their fathers, brothers, and sons meld into the singularity of a parading company of militiamen, a joining of the many into one. The atmosphere of comity, in most cases aided by the social lubricant of alcohol, produced the "harmonious and good feelings" that characterized so many celebrations. The amity and nostalgia at a July Fourth gathering in 1835 moved a Kentucky Gazette writer to comment:

   [H]armonious and good feelings ... appeared upon every countenance. The
   invited guests, according to modern parlance[,] would be deemed
   heterogeneous; but they with the whole assemblage, seemed to fall in side
   by side, with a full determination, that however we might have slight
   family jars, in the cause of the country, and a determination to support
   the government, no one would yield to his neighbour. (22)

Appearances, however, can be deceiving. There is little doubt that such public occasions fostered an identification with national, regional, and local communities; nevertheless, this public display of unity covered a hierarchical substrate of class, gender, and race. This underlying hierarchy was the manifestation of the desire for a well-ordered society. As David Waldstreicher puts it, "order was the order of the day." Americans wished to create a republic of virtuous citizens, and that required the development of a national identity, a commitment to institutions of local authority, and a respect for stability and order, all on prominent display whenever the militia mustered. (23)

As the initial source of authority and stability during the frontier era, the militia had provided one framework upon which emerging society constructed its social relationships. Militia officers exercised considerable influence even as civilian political and economic leaders enhanced their own reputations. Those who commanded local companies required order and deference, as Colonel William Russell reminded his men in 1808: "Gentleman privates, your colonel glories in a soldier that is orderly and obedient, and ... at the same time abhors disorder and confusion; for remember that subordination is the life and main spring of an army...." The well-ordered ranks of militiamen served as a model for a similarly well ordered, hierarchical, and deferential community. (24)

Militia events underscored the elevated status and influence of both militia and civilian leaders by providing them a platform to address the larger community. As significant as the words spoken and meanings conveyed was the selection of the particular men who spoke; access to the stage equaled access to power, and only the elite found the podium open. Len Travers points out how town leaders "regulated the ritual matrix and many of the ritual forms" of celebrations, and that these public events "contained socializing messages encoded in the fireworks, stage productions, songs, and food." Similarly, parades gave militia officers and elected officials another opportunity to turn disorder into order, superficial familiarity into structured hierarchy. Town leaders, the militia, ministers, and veterans filled the most prominent positions in the order of procession. Others joined in, but they either followed at the end of the parade or stood on the sidelines as anonymous spectators. Lisa C. Tolbert, in her study of community development in Tennessee, makes explicit the social significance of parades and other community gatherings: "[T]hese events helped to sort out differences among town residents by reinforcing hierarchies of status, gender, and race. Thus, public ceremonies were integral to the construction of town-centered identities because they made distinctions among town residents...." (25)

One distinction that community leaders sought to minimize, but only to a point, was the class differences among white men. In the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, as voting rights expanded to include nonlandholders, an identifiable white male identity emerged, and militia participation strengthened that alliance. All white men had the opportunity to join the fraternity of a militia company and share the camaraderie of its group identity. Cementing these bonds of fraternity was the practice of officer elections; by tradition and statute, the rank and file could issue orders of their own by electing their company officers. Exclusion as well as inclusion defined this white male unity. When dinner was over and the time came for toasting American ideals like Jefferson's tribute to equality, white males of every class joined to close the doors to women and African Americans. The ritual of toastmaking reaffirmed the participants' commitment not only to the nation or the region, but to each other as white men, thereby diminishing potential class resentment and constraining the most violent expressions of disaffection. (26)

Nonetheless, even white male unity had its limits. Poor white men marched in the parades and joined their officers and town elders with a cheer and swallow as each toast was read, but none ever found themselves initiating the ritual. Such was the exclusive province of the better sort. (27)

Women found themselves even further on the margins of the public sphere since their participation in such rituals rarely went beyond that of spectator, with even that role occasionally unavailable. Women normally looked on at parades and listened to the day's oration, but the practice of toastmaking was a male domain, and women were excused before the rounds began. The universal salute to the "American Fair," and the occasional reminder to the toasting audience of women's domestic responsibilities, further emphasized their subordinate position. Despite their exclusion from the toastmaking ritual, however, women were essential at celebrations: their presence--and especially their approval--helped create the perception of a unified, virtuous society and confirmed the status of all involved. (28)

Even further removed from the activities of celebration days in Kentucky were African Americans, who made up on average slightly over 21 percent of the state's population from 1790 to 1850. Most of them were slaves, whose lack of social standing severely limited their involvement. Active participation was of course out of the question, and following Toussaint L'Ouverture's success in Haiti in 1791, blacks in the North were increasingly excluded from celebrations altogether. The attendance of African Americans even simply as observers is difficult to document, but in the South, where the nature of the slave system produced a more integrated public sphere, one can hardly imagine a Fourth of July parade or celebration without the faces of black men, women, and children peering out of the crowd. Moreover, like women, the presence of slaves made even more explicit the structure and order of the community--who occupied the bottom rungs of the social ladder and who maintained control at the top. (29)

The militia formed ranks on more somber occasions as well, with the same ramifications for community development that celebrations provided. In July 1826 news of the deaths of Thomas Jefferson and John Adams reached the Bluegrass region just as Kentuckians learned that militia colonel and former governor Isaac Shelby had also passed away. In the span of fourteen days the nation lost two of its most revered founding fathers, and Kentucky suffered the death of its first governor and hero of the War of 1812. Lexington town trustees declared a day of mourning that commenced at eleven o'clock in front of the Grand Masonic Hall. There a funeral procession formed, escorted by the Fayette Hussars, the Light Artillery Cadets, the Lexington Light Infantry, the Fayette Rifle Corps, and a number of other companies from Fayette County. Following the militiamen were the clergy, who preceded the symbolic biers of Adams and Jefferson. "Twenty-four Misses dressed in white, with white veils and suitable badges representing the twenty-four States of the Union" fell into line behind the coffins. Next came the catafalque of Shelby, also followed by "a female representing Kentucky, clothed in white with an appropriate badge." The remainder of the procession included war veterans, additional militia officers, and prominent local residents, with "Citizens and Strangers, four abreast," bringing up the rear. The cortege proceeded from the Masonic Hall to the Episcopal Church, where mourners heard prayers and eulogies, accompanied by an organ dirge. Upon conclusion of the service the militia companies reformed and returned to the public square, where they were dismissed. In nearby Russellville the militia similarly marked the deaths with a procession of townspeople led by members of the Russellville Artillery Company, their left arms adorned with crape. (30)

The militia's 1826 memorial ceremonies drew upon death rituals and funeral traditions that had been established by the participants' forefathers. Nearly three decades earlier, in 1799, Washington's death initiated Lexington's first memorial procession for a national figure. As in the later commemoration for Jefferson and Adams, the militia companies, with arms reversed led the cortege, followed by dignitaries, professors from nearby Transylvania University, the clergy, and local citizens. (31) The 1834 funeral procession for Washington's close friend the Marquis de Lafayette outdid even the parade for Adams and Jefferson. According to the Kentucky Gazette, the assemblage "was considerably the largest procession we have ever had in our city, covering a space of a mile." Seventeen militia companies mustered, representing seven counties and towns in the Lexington vicinity. The ceremonies "were every way worthy of the occasion." (32) Also receiving the honor of a military escort to their final resting places were Kentucky's governors (many of whom had served as militia officers), returning war dead, including both the anonymous and the renowned like Henry Clay Jr., and legendary figures like Daniel Boone. (33)

Kentucky's memorial processions, like those that occurred throughout the nation during the early nineteenth century, served communities in a fashion similar to celebrations. Just as fetes joined people in an expression of pride, comity, and happiness, public funerals provided an opportunity for mourners to gather in a mutual expression of grief and loss. Marking the deaths of the nation's founders--a Jefferson, an Adams, or a Lafayette--rekindled the spirit of nationalism, born in 1776 and nurtured over the years into a maturing national identity. Similarly, Isaac Shelby, Henry Clay Jr., and the less famous created regional pride and local unity among mourners. Organizers of the Russellville commemoration for Jefferson, Adams, and Shelby promoted these shared identities when they requested that "the citizens of all classes suspend their labor from the hours of 11 o'clock AM to 3 o'clock PM" in order to participate in the ceremonies. In addition, the rituals of public funerals communicated the same implicit social messages as the celebrations. The militia again provided the model for order and deference, and the hierarchical ladder, with its complex ordering of class, gender, and race, made its way from church service to graveside. Militia officers and town elders perched on the top rungs, militiamen, farmers, and artisans claimed the middle, with women, children, and slaves clinging to the bottom or watching from the periphery. All were united, nonetheless, by nationalism and community. (34)

Such social bonding, however, is not the only indicator of community cohesion. Political participation, whether local or national, is itself a mechanism for unity, not only through common experience in the political process, but through a shared psychological and emotional political culture. Ronald P. Formisano describes the early republic as a time of transition, during which colonial deferential politics gave way to the partisan free-for-all of the second party system. This transitional "deferential-participant" phase that Formisano defines did not progress by inertia alone, but developed in response to forces within American society. (35) One such force was the militia: Kentucky's early militia units challenged the traditional political order as proponents of and a vehicle for democratization, and during the later Jacksonian era they were adjunct organizations to the Whig and Democratic Parties.

In the fall of 1791, as delegates prepared to attend the convention that would produce Kentucky's first state constitution, militiamen formed a number of radical organizations patterned after the county committees of the Revolutionary era. The most active and vocal committee sprang up in Bourbon County, with the rather unknown William Henry at the helm. Despite the fact that he lacked the benefits of substantial or even moderate wealth, Henry became the spokesman for the militia and an advocate of an egalitarian if not leveling system of government. He penned a number of essays and letters to the Kentucky Gazette, each outlining specific resolutions and instructions pertaining to the upcoming constitutional convention. His primary objective was a militia-based representative system in which a convocation of two members from each company would select convention delegates, issue instructions to the convention, and assess the public's reaction to the proposed constitution. One rather optimistic militiaman even suggested that county committees should wield veto power over future legislative acts, an idea that pushed radicalism beyond reason. (36)

The resolutions that William Henry and the Bourbon County Committee articulated demand serious consideration. The militiamen framed the majority of their proposals with the intent of decreasing the authority and influence of the region's "designing men," those distinguished by their wealth and power. The committee propounded a more equitable system of taxation that particularly took into account the huge tracts of land held by the elite minority. A unicameral legislature would inhibit the establishment or expansion of invidious class distinctions, while simultaneously lowering the financial burden of government and limiting the corrupting effect of patronage. Ballot elections would discourage polling fraud, and in what was its most radical and democratic resolution, the committee demanded universal adult male suffrage. In the final version of the constitution, convention delegates included the latter two proposals, giving the militiamen at least a partial victory. (37)

During the inappropriately named Era of Good Feelings, the militia, like the rest of the nation, suffered the afflictions of partisanship. In June 1816, after traveling a short distance across the rolling hills of the Bluegrass, a small group of men gathered in Lexington to plot a strategy for seizing control of the upcoming congressional elections. In addition to sharing a similar political agenda, each belonged to one of three volunteer militia companies, those commanded by Captains Faulkner, Sullivan, and Caven. Realizing the potential electoral power of a united militia, they proposed "that each militia company in the district, shall delegate certain persons to meet at a certain place[,] ... that they shall designate a person other than our present member [of Congress], and that each company shall pledge itself to support the individual so designated." The plan, if accepted by their citizen-soldier brethren, would give militia companies the capability to sway, if not in fact decide, congressional races. Like their predecessors in Bourbon County over twenty years earlier, these men realized the potential political power of a unified militia. (38)

Captain John McCalla of the Lexington Light Infantry took the lead in condemning the proposals of the politically minded units. The militia existed for one purpose, McCalla and his troops reaffirmed at a company meeting, and that was to "render military service." All other issues and activities fell outside the boundaries of appropriate militia duty, and "to convert the militia of the country into an organized cabal for the purpose of promoting electioneering views or controuling the elections, [sic] ... would be ... as novel as dangerous." McCalla's men left no doubt of their position, passing a resolution "that this company highly disapproves of the proposal to send from the militia companies delegates to Higbee's or elsewhere, to nominate a candidate for Congress." The scolding delivered by McCalla's men put the others on the defensive. Caven's men responded, "We consider the censure ... as unauthorized, unjust, and subversive of a permanent principle of our free government, because the meetings which they censure have not been military but civil." They vowed their determination to continue and proclaimed their support for former U.S. senator John Pope, if he was agreeable to standing election. (39)

The subtext of this political skirmish was the unpopular Compensation Act of 1816, which set annual congressional salaries at $1,500. Despite support for the act from republican icon President James Madison, George III and Lord North would have found familiar the public's cries of corruption and tyranny. Pope, an announced opponent of compensation, responded to the militiamen's actions first by disavowing knowledge of or any role in the political activities of the various companies. Hoping to maintain his political viability with all voters regardless of their militia affiliation, Pope played both sides of the issue. The individual was sovereign and should always remain so, he affirmed, but in the interest of "concert and union," a coordinated effort among like-minded men was not necessarily detrimental to the political process. Especially, we may imagine, if they were John Pope supporters. (40)

A number of men who resided within the bounds of Captain Caven's militia district, but who apparently were not members of his company, remained skeptical of the benefits of "concert and union," despite Pope's proclamation. "From what part of the Constitution," they demanded of Caven's men, "do they pretend the right to hold that meeting for selecting a proper person to represent us in the next Congress? ... On principle can we relinquish [the elective franchise]? ... Can we unite in saying, that we will permit others to represent us and vote by party? No! the right is unalienable, the trust cannot be parted with." (41)

Whether Captain Caven and his partisan militiamen met to choose a congressional candidate went unrecorded; nevertheless, this incident, like William Henry's use of the militia in 1791, demonstrates how the preexisting structure of militia units made them easily adaptable to political organization, and how many citizen-soldiers readily became partisan combatants. As C. Edward Skeen has argued, widespread public reaction to the Compensation Act marked a seminal point in the demise of deferential politics, indicating the common man's increasing awareness of his own political influence. And as Captain Caven and his men illustrate, that power was sometimes exercised through the local militia company. John L. Brooke, in his study of political culture in Worcester County, Massachusetts, has labeled this sort of group activism as "associational politics." The voluntary societies that Brooke identifies were not partisan by design, but as social organizations they "served to formalize and thicken relationships among the gentry, providing yet another avenue along which political information and cooperation might flow." Militia companies in the early republic provided similar access to the political arena. Rather than supplying just another platform for the gentry, however, partisan companies also gave a political voice to the William Henrys of the world, those lacking the connections and ties of their more prominent neighbors. (42)

By the Jacksonian era, militiamen had cast off any lingering reservations they might have harbored about the propriety of partisanship. Politics had become a national pastime, and they refused to be left out. Celebrations marking the battle of New Orleans now transformed militia companies into the rod that drew political lightning. Traditionally, communities had celebrated January 8 like any other anniversary: militia parades led to public dinners that ended with the standard toasts and speeches. (43) But in 1835 the celebration took on a less harmonious, more partisan tone. A few days after the anniversary, the Maysville Monitor commented on the recent celebrations:

   The Jackson men of Lexington are of the true grit. The House of
   Representatives of the Kentucky Legislature, refused to have a salute fired
   on the 8th, thus acknowledging they were sorry for the triumph of our arms
   at New Orleans. The news reached Lexington on the 7th, and a six pounder
   was forthwith conveyed to Frankfort by the democrats of Lexington, which
   aroused the slumbering Bank Tories at dawn on the 8th. In the evening it
   was used at Lexington, being conveyed back without the aid of the Rail
   Road, the President of which would grant the patriotic band no
   "facilities." (44)

In 1842 the Lexington Light Artillery, the apparent owner of the Democratic six-pounder alarm clock, remained in Lexington to mark the battle's anniversary, but the following year the company returned to the capital, much to the delight of the statewide Democratic convention meeting there. Delegates passed a resolution thanking the Lexington militiamen "for their gallant conduct displayed by meeting on this occasion, and thundering in the Capital Square of Kentucky the glory of the 8th day of January." In 1845 the state senate took steps to block the annual discharge that undoubtedly rattled Whigs far more than the general public. Senators rejected a motion to "cause a National salute to be fired on the Capital Square on to-morrow morning at sunrise." (45)

Despite the state senate's protestations, the Lexington militia had embraced popular partisan politics. In the 1790s companies pushed the political elite to advance the process of democratization, and in the 1830s and 1840s they supplied the bang and ballyhoo for party banquets and pep rallies. The deferential politics of the colonial era had gone the way of powdered wigs, helped along by militiamen pursuing political battles and electoral victories. (46)

In addition to battling fellow citizens in political campaigns, militiamen occasionally confronted their neighbors when differences of opinion turned violent. In an age before professional police forces, Americans looked to a number of institutions, including sheriffs, justices of the peace, and town watchmen, to maintain order and prevent insurrections in their communities. When circumstances required greater force than these authorities could bring to bear, they issued a call for the militia. In the late eighteenth century, militiamen generally functioned as an auxiliary force for the day-to-day activities of keeping the peace, but after the turn of the century, as civilian authority expanded in both size and muscle, the militia's responsibilities increasingly centered on restraining civil unrest. (47)

Before the turn of the nineteenth century, Kentucky's militia assisted local authorities by fulfilling .some government duties. In 1790 the militia aided efforts to obtain an accurate count for the first national census. That same year, a Lexington court official suggested that militia captains tally "the depredations of the Indians committed in the several counties within the district" and convey those numbers to government authorities. Other responsibilities included assisting the local sheriff's office with guarding prisoners and witnesses. In 1794 Lexington's "Public Gaol was in so broken a condition that a prisoner could not be securely confined"--shades of Faulkner's Yoknapatawpha County jail. Governor Isaac Shelby therefore ordered a force of eighteen men from the Ninth Regiment to muster "for the safekeeping of the prisoner," a man accused of "a capital offense of great weight." A year earlier, twenty-one Lexington militiamen made up a force "intended as a guard to the witnesses who are to give testimony on behalf of the Commonwealth against sundry persons ... accused of capital crimes." Militiamen also found themselves pursuing suspected murderers and maintaining order at public executions. (48)

One group of Lexington citizens even sought the aid of the militia in restoring the town's moral integrity, fearing it in grave danger. Those attending a "Meeting for the Suppression of Gambling" in 1835 resolved that "the several Militia and Volunteer companies ... be requested to give their aid ... in arresting and bringing to justice all persons guilty ... of gaming contrary to law." A writer to the Kentucky Gazette (who took the pen name of "No Gambler") pointed out the futility and hypocrisy of the antigamblers' campaign. "I consider your horse racing at Lexington and elsewhere to be as much gambling as cards or any other game. Will this society [break] up the race field? Call out the Militia and drive the company from the field:--Instead of this, I venture without much hazard, that many of the members of this society will be found upon the race field openly betting upon the races." One might have found a militiaman or two wagering as well. The society's suggestion apparently never came to fruition; the Kentucky Gazette reported no militia campaigns against either poker players or racehorses. (49)

Militia companies often took seriously their responsibility to protect their communities from mobs and wandering ruffians. In 1789 a band of wayward army regulars ransacked the home of a Limestone man, arrested him on unspecified charges, and imprisoned him in a military garrison. Mason County militia lieutenant Henry Lee, "strongly impressed with a sense of the insult offered to the laws, the injury done the individual, and the pernicious consequence of such an example, raised a party of his militia and with a spirit highly to be applauded" gave chase to the regulars and confronted the officer in charge. Lee secured the release of his apparently falsely accused, and undoubtedly shaken, neighbor. A few years later an overly eager militiaman, Andrew McCalla, rousted his comrades when a band of street entertainers set up shop in Lexington. Some in the company thought it a bit ridiculous to muster against a troupe of actors, no matter what sort of nuisance they had created. The reluctant militia members' fears of an embarrassing spectacle were confirmed when the unit paraded the captured "show-man on horseback, dressed in party coloured clothes, blowing a trumpet in defiance ..., [and] guarded by men with clubs," through town. In 1842 Captain William Bradford worried that his company lacked sufficient weapons "to protect the city from violence" and other serious threats. His concern for such preparation proved well founded four years later, when Lexington mayor Thomas Ross ordered out the Lexington Rifles, a corps of volunteer militia, "having been informed ... that an attack is anticipated this night upon some person or persons and property in this city." Other citizens expressed similar expectations of an outbreak of civil violence, but none materialized. (50)

Lexington's anxiety may have sprung from rumors of an impending slave uprising. From the Stono Rebellion in 1739 to the terror of Nat Turner's war of retribution in 1831, whispers of rebellion haunted the white South. Rumors relentlessly threatened to become reality, and slave owners remained ever vigilant for signs of the expected firestorm. (51) In 1810 the whispers became cries of alarm when Colonel George Trotter ordered Lieutenant W. W. Worsley to muster a guard to patrol the evening streets of Lexington. Trotter directed that the men were "not to disturb the white citizens--but to apprehend and secure all verry suspicious blacks who may be found on the streets in doubtful situations." Either the colonel's precautions dissuaded any contemplated uprising or Lexington's slaves had not planned a rebellion; no disturbance was recorded. The fear, however, never dissipated. Isaac Shelby took steps during his second term as governor in 1816 to ensure that volunteer militia units were sufficiently armed "in case of an insurrection amongst the slaves--a thing always to be guarded against in a country like ours." (52)

Although possible slave revolts rarely forced Kentucky's militia officers to order out their commands, domestic intrigue and partisan politics were a different story. Aaron Burr's rumored plot, either to capture Mexico from Spain or to create an independent nation out of the southwestern United States, originated in the Old Northwest, where he organized a force of volunteers that embarked on the Ohio River in December 1806. Secretary of War Henry Dearborn got wind of the impending campaign and ordered Kentucky governor Christopher Greenup to call out a sufficient number of militia to prevent the expedition from heading farther south. On Christmas Day a Kentucky newspaper reported that a detachment of militia "had been posted at Louisville ... with orders to examine all boats passing that place.... A number of boats, supposed to belong to [C]ol. Burr, have passed Louisville within the last 5 or 6 days, loaded with arms, ammunition and provisions." Less than two months later, soldiers captured the former vice president in the Mississippi Territory and escorted him to Richmond, Virginia, where he was tried for treason and acquitted.(53)

In the 1820s and 1830s disciples of Andrew Jackson and their opponents often made politics more than just a fight at the polls. During the off-year elections in 1827, violence broke out in Cynthiana, where mobs damaged the courthouse, and in Mount Sterling, where "a serious affray occur[r]ed." In the latter instance, a town official with anti-Jackson sentiments called out the local militia to put the "Jackson men" in their place, but instead, the Democrats, "indignant at this attempt to coerce them, commenced so violent an attack with stones, as soon compelled the military to retire." The following year, the partisan polemics rose to a fevered pitch when Jackson opponents in Georgetown accused his followers of committing every conceivable crime and of creating anarchy. "The Jackson faction," according to "One of the Sufferers," perpetrated "the most horrid outrages on the lives and property of the Adams men.... A man and woman have been hung up at every mile post." Another anti-Jackson "sufferer" called for Captain Stephens' s company of militia to muster and "spread terror in the ranks of the enemy." His demand came with one caveat: "That portion of the company favorable to the Jackson cause, will not, of course, be permitted to take to the field." The stories told by these two persecuted proto-Whigs appear to have been just that--stories. No other evidence verifies the existence of a rampaging mob of Jackson partisans spreading terror and destruction in Scott County. (54) In a similar instance during the Nullification Crisis in 1833, a Nicholasville resident advocated preparing a company of militiamen "to march at a moment's warning against the Nullifiers, who have collected in considerable numbers at the `Big Bone Lick.'" (55) None of these political squabbles actually deteriorated into full-fledged riots, yet the attitude of those involved is of great significance. Believing that public order was in jeopardy, or in some cases attempting to create that impression, participants demanded that the authorities call out the militia. No one asked for the local sheriff or requested the United States Army. Citizen-soldiers were the only viable option. They were available and wielded, at least in theory, sufficient force and authority to maintain civil order and public peace.

At times, civil authorities could not call on the militia for assistance because it was the militiamen themselves who were creating the disturbance. In 1798, for example, a defendant in a domestic dispute that had made its way into the Frankfort courts showed the poor judgment of making impertinent remarks about the governor. As a consequence, "several young men.... attended by the military music of the infantry company[,] beset the house he was in, dragged him out, undertook to call him to an account, and (the drum beating the rogues march) conducted him to the top of the hill, where they dismissed him with some threatening cautions." "This," the Kentucky Gazette correspondent disclosed, "is not the first breach of the peace of a similar kind, which has disgraced our metropolis." (56) Nor was this the last instance of militiamen challenging civilian authority and social stability.

Mountainous Clay County in southeastern Kentucky was on the verge of civil war in the late summer of 1845. Abner Baker, having been convicted of murdering Daniel Bates, awaited execution in the Manchester jail. The first sign of trouble appeared on Governor William Owsley's desk in mid-August, when a letter arrived from Manchester jailer John Cole. Cole had recently exchanged unkind words with Abner's brother, William, over visitation. Fearing William would complain to the governor, Cole wrote to explain his side of the story. Two weeks later, Cole and William Baker had not patched up their differences; in fact, the dispute had escalated. The jailer had received evidence of "an armed force concentrating not far from Manchester to rescue Abner Baker." Moreover, Baker's rescue party had commandeered "public arms"--weapons intended for the militia. (57)

As a result, Owsley ordered Adjutant General Peter Dudley to Manchester to assess the situation and, if necessary, call out sufficient militia to "quell any insurrection against the laws of our Commonwealth and interference with the execution of its judgements." The following day Dudley ordered out four companies of militia, approximately two hundred men, from Richmond in Madison County. In a letter to Owsley, Dudley cited three reasons for mustering Madison troops instead of ones from Clay County: the Clay units were badly disorganized; the mountainous terrain made musters difficult; and perhaps most significant, "disaffection exists among the very officers and men composing those companies." Dudley hoped to avoid "arranging neighbor against neighbor." Later that day, Dudley reconsidered whether two hundred militiamen were adequate; he had received word that the insurgents had raised the stakes with the appropriation of a small cannon. Quickly scratching off a letter, he asked the governor to order out the Lexington Legion and their small fieldpiece to counter the rebels' artillery. What began as a dispute over jail visitation had intensified into a potential civil war, with militia units from nearly seventy-five miles away on the march to confront fellow Kentuckians. (58)

Governor Owsley judiciously declined to call out the Lexington companies and instead directed Dudley to reevaluate the situation, reminding him of his wish to avoid "violence and bloodshed." The governor's intuition proved correct, and upon reassessment Dudley reported that the situation required only one hundred Madison County militiamen to provide relief for the Manchester jailer and his guards. Dudley had found the Clay County militia as he expected--"totally disorganized" with "brother arrayed against brother." A few weeks later, authorities carried out the execution of Abner Baker without incident; "the laws were properly respected and obeyed." (59)

The Clay County rebellion demonstrates that in this instance the state's militia effectively responded to a crisis that could easily have become a bloody confrontation. Proper and prudent leadership from Owsley and Dudley accounts in part for the peaceful resolution of the disturbance. The immediate decision to deploy the militia and the determination to keep the number of militiamen to a minimum reestablished the authority of the government without the use of force, clearly the most desirable outcome. Credit must also go the citizen-soldiers of Madison County, who responded with order and discipline, arriving in Manchester eight days after receiving the call from Dudley. After the incident was over, Owsley complimented the Richmond troops, who had "so discreetly executed this delicate trust as perfectly to quiet the high excitement that existed and safely to preserve the public peace from the blot of civil broils and bloodshed." When properly used, the militia system could effectively maintain civil order. (60)

Whether deployed as a few militiamen guarding a prisoner accused of a capital crime or as several companies turning out to restore order among combative neighbors, the militia assisted civil authorities in maintaining the peace. Prior to Kentucky's statehood, their presence symbolized order; afterward, their participation in law enforcement brought discipline to towns far removed from the long-settled communities of the East, a stability that encouraged the immigration of new residents. In later years the militia's response to civil unrest ensured continued development and security. As Kentucky grew from a collection of scattered frontier communities into a thriving nineteenth-century society, the militia remained the institution best prepared to respond to any threats of domestic disorder. (61)

Order and stability encouraged not only an expanding population but the evolution of the state's economy from frontier subsistence to market complexity. From the 1790s to the 1830s, the militia provided support and energy to the transition from a locally oriented, barter economy to a national, and at times international, market economy. The militia's activities included the defense of nascent manufacturing sites, participation in the political economy, and the creation of opportunities within their communities for economic growth and exchange. Citizen-soldiers greased the wheels and stoked the firebox of the state's economic engine.

The economy of the early republic continues to be a subject of debate among historians. Most agree that this was a transitional period, but the nature of that transition remains unresolved. Was a barter economy giving way to a market system, or had the market already spread to the frontier, only to undergo further maturation? Were western settlers in the 1790s noncapitalists, precapitalists, or full-fledged capitalists well on their way to producing American-style consumerism? Although historians of Kentucky's early economy differ on the specifics, they are in accord that an evolution was underway, as burgeoning productivity and access to transportation and additional markets--essential ingredients for continued growth--prepared the state to jump with both feet into capitalism and the market economy. (62)

During the earliest years of Kentucky's settlement, the militia supported economic development by posting guards along the Wilderness Road and at the salt and iron works scattered throughout the region. The Wilderness' Road, initially cut by Daniel Boone and thirty-odd frontiersmen in 1775, was more wilderness than road. The trail promised the heaven of Bluegrass country if one survived the hellish journey through the Cumberland Gap, where until the late 1790s Indian attacks were common. Large traveling parties and militiamen provided the only shield. (63) Salt production began almost as soon as the first whites arrived in Kentucky. Given the mountainous terrain and hostile Indians, transporting this necessity from the East was prohibitively expensive, making local sites of production vital to the region's development. Settlers used salt primarily as a meat preservative, and by 1785 the various salt works produced enough to satisfy local demand. The salt licks' remote locations, however, made them easy targets for Indian raids, and working them was a dangerous business. To decrease the risk to workers and to ensure that the product made it to market, militiamen provided a rotating guard for the vulnerable salt works. Ranging from ten to twenty men, each contingent lived at the site for anywhere from two weeks to two months. Even with the guards in place, Indians still occasionally attacked the licks. (64)

While more complex than the salt works, Kentucky's iron industry developed in a similar fashion. Despite the fact that the iron works required a larger, more skilled workforce, the early furnaces were also isolated enclaves that dotted the frontier. Bourbon Furnace, the region's first iron works, began operation along Slate Creek in present Bath County in March 1791. As with the salt licks, the militia provided a protective shield for the ironmasters and their crews. Guard duty frequently proved dangerous if not deadly. George Trumbo was part of a contingent of militiamen on guard when a Bourbon County furnace came under attack in 1791. "The indians just caught ens. Barnett in a tree top ... [and killed] him," Trumbo recounted. "Johnson they shot in the groin, as he was running. The shot passed thro' the bladder, & killed him." Though it was dangerous duty, the survival of two of Kentucky's earliest industries depended on the militiamen's protection. (65)

For Kentucky and much of the trans-Appalachian region, economic success required a guaranteed market for agricultural goods, and that meant insuring consistent access to the Mississippi River. Navigation rights to the Mississippi had initiated debates, foreign intrigue, and near war since the arrival of the region's first white settlers. The question, for example, awoke William Henry's slumbering Bourbon County Committee in June 1794. These politically oriented citizen-soldiers demanded the election of two men from each militia company to serve as representatives at a general meeting later that month at the county courthouse. At that gathering the militiamen adopted a number of resolutions calling for unity of effort and declaring their "just right, THE FREE NAVIGATION OF THE RIVER MISSISSIPPI." (66)

The adoption the following year of Pinckney's Treaty, in which Spain guaranteed the Americans' right to the free navigation of the entire river, seemingly settled the dispute, promising a potential economic boom in the trans-Appalachian region, but in Kentucky the issue refused to die. In November 1803, just over six months after Jefferson' s constitutionally questionable purchase of the vast Louisiana territory from France, elements of the Spanish army who contested the terms of the sale continued to occupy land along the Mississippi. An editorial writer in the Kentucky Gazette admonished the militia to defend "the honor and interest of the United States" and to prepare to "step forward and assert her rights." As a demonstration of support and readiness, Captain Wyatt's and Captain Postlethwait's Light Infantry companies mustered and paraded through Lexington. The militiamen's preparations proved unnecessary, however, when Spain abandoned the disputed territory, defusing the impending crisis and assuring permanent American access to the Mississippi River and its concomitant markets. (67)

Beyond working to secure transportation for the region's producers, militiamen aggressively pursued political agendas to improve their economic well-being. In February 1800, Bourbon County residents gathered at the courthouse to mull over "the alarming situation of our country, occasioned by the great scarcity of money.... "The dearth of cash produced a surplus of conversation as the crowd debated idea after idea, each intended to "prevent as far as possible the total ruin of our citizens." The meeting adopted a series of resolutions that called for boycotts against merchants who imported products, for the promotion of home-manufactured goods and paper, and for monthly meetings of concerned citizens. Wanting to give teeth to these measures, they resolved "that it be recommended to the field officers of the militia and captains of companies to use their endeavors in promoting and carrying into effect these resolutions." The Bourbon County residents perhaps drew inspiration from the American Revolution's Continental Association and its coercive powers that enforced the boycotts of British goods in the 1770s. Although the effectiveness of these latter-day associators remains unknown, the episode demonstrates that Kentuckians in general, not just citizen-soldiers, saw the militia as something more than a group of part-time soldiers. It was an instrument to enforce specific economic agendas and social behavior. (68)

At times, the militiamen acted in concert to improve their own economic and financial futures. The men of Captain Edward Darnaby's company converged on their muster grounds in January 1811 to "take into consideration the subject of setting and fixing upon some mode of disposing of our hemp." The militiamen made public their efforts, hoping to convince "every farmer and friend to his country ... to convene together in their respective neighborhoods and make such arrangements as would enable them to export their hemp, unless a fair price can be had in this country.... "Such organized economic activism was not unique to the militia. Stephen Aron notes that in that same year, 1811, both cordwainers and shoemakers united to protest poor wages. The difference, however, was that the men who sought to counter low hemp prices united as militiamen, not as hemp farmers. These citizen-soldiers instinctively turned to the preexisting organization of their militia companies to confront an economic crisis. (69)

Less political than dealing with such weighty issues as currency shortages and commodity prices was the militiamen's regular participation in their local economies. For the merchants and traders who equipped the militia with food, clothing, tents, weapons, and other paraphernalia of the military arts, any mustering of citizen-soldiers meant sales. Purveyors and vendors also profited-from the crowds that gathered to watch kinfolk and neighbors march about the town square. Fourth of July celebrations were likely as lucrative as quarterly musters, if not more so. The thousands who attended events like the 1842 "Camp Scott" rally provided a generous economic windfall to local merchants, traders, and anyone with something to sell. In addition to the obvious exchange of goods, people carried on more subtle forms of business at these community gatherings. In 1808 Captain Robert McAfee mustered his company on a June Saturday for a bit of marching and drilling; "There were a number of people and much friendship," he recorded in his journal. Later in the day he "took up a note from J. Baker and several other little debts." Monetary concerns thus mixed with the captain's interest in military training, as he demonstrated again less than three weeks later when he "rode on down to ... Captain George McAfee's muster." Once again, McAfee had more on his mind than militia drills: "There were a great number of men present. I [met] William A. and conversed with him on business." Even the state recognized the usefulness of a militia muster and until 1811 designated muster days as an opportunity for property holders to present a list of their taxable property. Like court days, holidays, and Sundays, militia days attracted a variety of people, who not surprisingly carried on all sorts of business. (70)

On a larger scale, extended expeditions and battalion musters required commanding officers to solicit bids from and offer contracts to suppliers. Governor and militia commander-in-chief Isaac Shelby advertised for the lowest bidder in 1795 to provide "rations to the three garrisons posted on the Wilderness Road for the next tour of 6 months." In a similar fashion, the Kentucky Company of Dragoons requested proposals "for furnishing the Troops ... with supplies of Subsistence" at their 1833 "recruiting rendezvous." Some up-and-coming entrepreneurs wheeled and dealed to the point of exploitation, forcing one officer to issue orders designed to prevent unscrupulous vendors from swindling his men. Nevertheless, not all merchants became rich. In 1794 a Mr. Eliot undoubtedly counted himself on his way to fortune if not fame when he received the contract to supply a brigade of Charles Scott's army of Indian fighters. Having loaded four hundred pack horses, Eliot set out for Fort Hamilton on the Miami River, in the heart of Indian country. Before reaching the safety of the fort, however, Indians attacked and killed the army contractor. No one had guaranteed profit without peril. (71)

The government of Kentucky, fulfilling its responsibility for procuring weapons for the state's militia companies, fueled the region's economy as well. John B. Tilford, a "Wholesale Grocer, Commissioner, and Forwarding Merchant," profited from state expenditures in 1842 by supplying "4 Brace cartg, swords & pistols" to Adjutant General Peter Dudley. Once purchased, weapons had to be maintained, and by the 1840s the state financed their upkeep. In 1847 Maysville resident A. R. Crosby found himself competing with firms in Cincinnati and Pittsburgh for the contract to repair state-owned muskets. (72)

Volunteer units, which became increasingly popular following the War of 1812, had always created a demand for personal items, including horses, uniforms, weapons, and leather goods. In 1798 a company of "gentlemen composing the HAMILTON TROOP OF LIGHT DRAGOONS," who resided just north of the river in Ohio, advertised in the Kentucy Herald their desire "to purchase a number of Good Horses, for which a generous price in Cash will be given"--Ohio cash for Kentucky horses. In 1807 the Lexington Troop of Cavalry recorded monies spent on musical instruments, sheet music, paint, books, clothing for their trumpeter, and of course, whiskey. Musically minded militiamen could obtain their instruments from entrepreneurs like Reuben Stivers, a shop owner in Lexington who during the 1790s supplied drums and fifes to company commanders "on the shortest notice." The business establishment of Tilford, Scott & Trotter offered "Swords, Epaulets, & Plumes" to Lexington's citizen-soldiers in 1812. Competition stiffened in the military market the following year when R. Megowan & Company received "a large and elegant assortment ... of MILITARY TRIMMINGS," everything an aspiring colonel or general could want: "Swords, Epaulets, Sashes, Silver Lace, Sword Knots, Gold & Silver, Silver Plates, for Caps and Belts, Military Buttons, Plumes of various colours, Dirks, Undress Swords, [and] Silver Cord." An 1807 description of Colonel John Bullock's regiment sounded as much like an endorsement of American industry as of military prowess: "Clothed with American manufactures, armed with American arms," the regiment appeared a "formidable phalanx of citizen-soldiers." (73)

Other entrepreneurs appealed to the martial customer from a variety of angles. A Lexington saddler advertised his skills in the "several branches of SADDLING & MILITARY ACCOUTREMENT MAKING"; and for the well-read militiaman, publishers Hunter and Beaumont advertised Steuben's Manual Exercise, which contained "a full description of every motion in the Manual Exercise, so plainly delineated as to be clearly understood by every person; and as [a] useful assistant on general muster days, ought to be in the possession of every citizen Soldier." Another shopkeeper carried a collection of Duane's Military Books, including the Hand Book for Infantry, the Hand Book for Riflemen, and the Military Dictionary, "all at the Philadelphia prices." (74)

If the military scholar desired to continue his education beyond the lessons of Duane's Military Books, itinerant instructors occasionally hung out their shingle, or sword as the case may be, and offered training in a variety of military skills. In 1809 Joseph Ellerbeck's curriculum concentrated on "manoeuvering" and the "use of arms." Four years later, John Cipriani offered specialized instruction in "the Exercise and use of the BROADSWORD." Hoping to capitalize on the more talented members of the militia, one gentleman even opened a "Military Music School" in 1816. But the most durable of all military educators was Major R. I. Dunn, who first appeared in Lexington in 1814 and traveled the region for twenty-five years educating Kentucky's young men in marching, swordsmanship, and other martial necessities. Dunn also drilled a generation of military students through sales of his Military Pocket Manual. (75)

While the military education market made up only a thin slice of Kentucky's economic pie, the militia's economic impact in general was widely felt. From the earliest days of settlement to the 1840s, militiamen facilitated the state's transition from barter to market, from economic infancy to fiscal adolescence. Like other public institutions whose influence on economic growth waned with the maturation of private institutions after the War of 1812, so too did the militia's role in financial affairs. During Kentucky's earliest decades, however, militiamen fueled the state's economic engine. (76)

As rapidly as any state, Kentucky advanced from the forests and trails of a crude frontier to the houses and shops of a cultivated community. The militia's contribution to that transformation was both substantial and diverse. Celebrations, funerals, and miscellaneous gatherings strengthened the tenuous bonds of community while reinforcing the hierarchical ladder of class, gender, and race. Political activism recruited new participants into the democratic process and legitimated the new American pastime of partisan politics that earlier generations had shunned. Citizen-soldiers maintained order and stability in their hometowns and bolstered the transition to a market economy.

According to sociologist W. Lloyd Warner, celebrating, politicking, or the simple act of coming together as a community "draw[s] all people together to emphasize their similarities and common heritage; to minimize their differences, and to contribute to their thinking, feeling and acting alike." These events are "a sacred symbol system which functions periodically to unify the whole community." Similarly, Emile Durkheim argues in his study of religion:

   There can be no society which does not feel the need of upholding and
   reaffirming at regular intervals the collective sentiments and the
   collective ideas which make its unity and its personality. Now this moral
   remaking cannot be achieved except by the means of reunions, assemblies and
   meetings where the individuals, being closely united to one another,
   reaffirm in common their common sentiments. (77)

Although Durkheim's subject is a people's faith, his argument is applicable to the militia's contribution to the evolution of nineteenth-century society. The ritualistic symbols and ideas conveyed by militia activities created and then reaffirmed a sense of commonality. The militia's role as the steward of public celebrations and as a representative, collective symbol of family and friends fostered community identity. Whether the Fourth of July, a political rally, or a meeting to debate hemp prices, each gathering strengthened the sinews of the civic body.

John L. Brooke argues in his study of the early republic that voluntary societies, and especially fraternal organizations, "stood at the epicenter of efforts to define and redefine the public arena in the new nation...." (78) If that is true, then historians have underestimated the militia's significance and contribution to the development of American society. Given its geographic pervasiveness, broad membership, and range of activities, the militia's influence on local communities and American society as a whole exceeded that of any fraternal institution. In contrast to Faulkner's fictional Yoknapatawpha citizen-soldiers, the flesh-and-blood militia remained a viable and valuable institution in the early nineteenth century.

(1) William Faulkner, Requiem for a Nun (New York, 1951), 5-6. Accounts of incompetent militia may be found in Marcus Cunliffe, Soldiers and Civilians: The Martial Spirit in America, 1775-1865 (Boston and Toronto, 1968), 186-212; C. Edward Skeen, Citizen Soldiers in the War of 1812 (Lexington, 1999), chap. 3, 178-84; Donald R. Hickey, The War of 1812: A Forgotten Conflict (Urbana and Chicago, 1989), 221, 223, 301. The author wishes to thank Bo Morgan, Jeffrey Matthews, and the anonymous reviewers for the Journal of Southern History for their thoughtful comments.

(2) Malcolm J. Rohrbough, The Trans-Appalachian Frontier: People, Societies, and Institutions, 1775-1850 (New York, 1978), 30. Two historians who have also touched on this topic are Cunliffe, Soldiers and Civilians, chaps. 6-8; and John Hope Franklin, The Militant South, 1800-1861 (Cambridge, Mass., 1956), chap. 9.

(3) Stephen Aron, How the West Was Lost: The Transformation of Kentucky from Daniel Boone to Henry Clay (Baltimore and London, 1996); Craig Thompson Friend, ed., The Buzzel About Kentuck: Settling the Promised Land (Lexington, 1999); Lowell H. Harrison, Kentucky's Road to Statehood (Lexington, 1992); Joan Wells Coward, Kentucky in the New Republic: The Process of Constitution Making (Lexington, 1979).

(4) For theories of community-building see Colin Bell and Howard Newby, Community Studies: An Introduction to the Sociology of the Local Community (London and New York, 1971), chap. 2. I do not include in this analysis the militia's activities that were of a traditional military nature. Previous scholars have ably documented the militia's contribution to the defense of Kentucky in the early national period. Its participation in the Indian Wars, the War of 1812, the Mexican War, and the frequent but often unrecorded defense of local communities against Indian raids provided security necessary for the growth of white settlements. This contribution of the militia to Kentucky's development cannot be underestimated. See John K. Mahon, History of the Militia and the National Guard (New York and London, 1983); Richard G. Stone Jr., A Brittle Sword: The Kentucky. Militia, 1776-1912 (Lexington, 1977); and Federal Writers' Project of the Work Projects Administration, Military History of Kentucky, Chronologically Arranged (Frankfort, 1939).

(5) Lexington Kentucky Gazette, June 25, 1842, p. 2 (first and second quotations), and July 9, 1842, p. 2 (third, fourth, and fifth quotations).

(6) Lexington Kentucky Gazette, July 11, 1798, p. 2 (first and second quotations), and July 9, 1796, p. 4 (third quotation). Militia companies also occasionally sponsored dances, especially during the cooler fall and spring months, that were not associated with any particular holiday or celebration. Charles R. Staples, Amusements, Diversions and Games of Early Lexington (n.p., 1935), 27, copy in Charles R. Staples Papers (Special Collections and Archives, Margaret I. King Library, University of Kentucky, Lexington, Ky.; hereinafter cited as UKSC). Joy Carden shows the importance of music and dancing to July Fourth celebrations in Music in Lexington before 1840 (Lexington, 1980). Bertram Wyatt-Brown has also pointed out the importance of public gatherings in what was essentially an oral society in Southern Honor: Ethics and Behavior in the Old South (New York and Oxford, 1982), 330. For additional studies of the patterns of celebration in the early republic see Len Travers, Celebrating the Fourth: Independence Day and the Rites of Nationalism in the Early Republic (Amherst, Mass., 1997); David Waldstreicher, In the Midst of Perpetual Fetes: The Making of American Nationalism, 1776-1820 (Chapel Hill and London, 1997); Simon P. Newman, Parades and the Politics of the Street: Festive Culture in the Early American Republic (Philadelphia, 1997); Brooks McNamara, Day of Jubilee: The Great Age of Public Celebrations in New York, 1788-1909 (New Brunswick, N.J., and London, 1997); and Susan G. Davis, Parades and Power: Street Theatre in Nineteenth-Century Philadelphia (Philadelphia, 1986).

(7) The first account of a Washington's Birthday celebration appears in the Lexington Kentucky Gazette, February 28, 1798, p. 3. See also Newman, Parades and the Politics of the Street, 57-65. For battle of the Thames celebrations see Lexington Kentucky Gazette, October 24, 1822, October 12, 1833, and October 11, 1834. For the battle of New Orleans see Russellville Weekly Messenger, February 16, 1828; Frankfort Argus of Western America, January 7, 1829, January 11, 1831, and January 19, 1831; Lexington Kentucky Gazette, January 12, 1833, January 17, 1835, January 11, 1838, January 10, 1839, January 8, 1842, and January 28, 1843; and Frankfort Commonwealth, January 14, 1845.

(8) Captain F. Kern to Coleman Daniel and John O. Harrison, February 23, 1850, Militia Records (Kentucky Military Records and Research Branch, Frankfort, Ky.). For the Louisville militia and Lafayette's visit see Louisville Public Advertiser, October 13, 1824, p. 3, April 16, 1825, p. 3, May 7, 1825, p. 2, and May 14, 1825, p. 3; for his other stops see, for example, Louisville Public Advertiser, May 18, 1825, p. 3; and Lexington Kentucky Gazette, May 19, 1825, p. 3. Lafayette's visit to Lexington was also a much anticipated event. The town's volunteer militia companies began organizing the celebration nearly nine months earlier when they took the first steps to invite the general; see Lexington Kentucky Gazette, September 23, October 7, 1824, p. 2. More specific preparations began in March and April when the various companies obtained uniforms and weapons; see Lexington Kentucky Gazette, March 24, April 7, and April 21, 1825, p. 3. Plans were finalized in early May for his arrival later that month; see Lexington Kentucky Gazette, May 5, 1825, p. 3. For Lafayette's militia reception elsewhere see Lisa C. Tolbert, Constructing Townscapes: Space and Society in Antebellum Tennessee (Chapel Hill and London, 1999), 161; and Davis, Parades and Power, 65.

(9) For Monroe's visit see Lexington Kentucky Gazette, June 25, July 9, and July 16, 1819. During an earlier visit to Lexington in 1808, the town offered Monroe a public welcome and dinner, though without the fanfare that later greeted him as president. Ibid., August 30, 1808. For Jackson's visits see Louisville Public Advertiser, December 4, 1824, and April 2, 1825; and Frankfort Argus of Western America, January 28, 1829. For Van Buren's visit see Lexington Kentucky Gazette, May 26, 1842. For Harrison's visits see Frankfort Palladium, July 1, 1812 (as a military hero); and Lexington Kentucky Gazette, November 26, 1840 (as president-elect). For accounts of the militia's participation in the inauguration celebrations of various Kentucky governors see Lexington Kentucky Gazette, August 26, 1824, September 9, 1824, and November 10, 1826 (Joseph Desha); ibid., August 29, 1828 (Thomas Metcalfe); ibid., August 29 and September 1, 1836 (James Clark); and ibid., September 3 and 10, 1840 (Robert P. Letcher). The militia also fired a cannon salute when the governor of Tennessee visited Lexington in 1845. S. D. McCullough to Quartermaster General Dudley, July 15, 1845, Militia Records. The militia also held public dinners or ceremonies for lesser-known civilians. See, for example, the barbecue for Paris, Kentucky, resident Dr. Joseph H. Holt in Lexington Kentucky Gazette, July 8, 1824, p. 3.

(10) Frankfort Argus of Western America, July 1, 1829. For other examples of Clay's militia receptions see Lexington Kentucky Gazette, May 29, 1818, July 22, 1819, and May 24, 1821; and Russellville Weekly Messenger, June 4, 1825.

(11) Travers, Celebrating the Fourth, 6-7; Waldstreicher, In the Midst of Perpetual Fetes, 120, 124, 158.

(12) Providence (R.I.) United States Chronicle, June 26, 1788, quoted in Waldstreicher, In the Midst of Perpetual Fetes, 98.

(13) More than an excuse to partake of drink, toasts were indicators of individual or group beliefs, objectives, or ideologies. As such, they were also expressions of, or attempts to influence, public opinion, particularly when their content and presentation were controlled by the militia or some other group. Moreover, because newspapers printed toasts, toasting often initiated debate and, as Simon Newman points out, "made possible the emergence of a common national language of ritual activity," Len Travers similarly argues that toasts and ritual celebrations were vehicles for "cultural transmission." See Newman, Parades and the Politics of the Street, 3 (first quotation), 89; Waldstreicher, In the Midst of Perpetual Fetes, 115, 130, 139, 219-25; Travers, Celebrating the Fourth, 51-52, 55-57 (second quotation on p. 57), 100-101; and Lee W. Eysturlid, "`An Opportunity to Show Their Epaulets and Feathers': The South Carolina Militia During the First Secession Crisis, 1848-1851," Armed Forces and Society, 20 (Winter 1994), 308-13.

(14) These common toast topics, showing little change over time, became central to American iconography. For examples see Lexington Kentucky. Gazette, July 11, 1798, p. 2 (first quotation), May 15, 1804, p. 3, July 5, 1806, p. 3 (fourth quotation), August 30, 1808, p. 3, July 11, 1814, p. 3, October 24, 1822, pp. 2-3, August 7, 1823, p. 3 (third quotation), and July 12, 1838, p. 2 (second quotation).

(15) For the emerging western identity see Lexington Kentucky Gazette, July 5, 1788, p. 2 (first and second quotations), May 22, 1804, p. 3 (third quotation), November 8, 1813, p. 3, May 24, 1821, p. 2, and April 10, 1841, p. 2 (fourth quotation). For state celebrations see Lexington Observer and Reporter, May 27, 1840; J. R. Cardwell and Phillip B. Thompson to R. P. Letcher, March 22, 1841, Militia Records; and Lexington Kentucky Gazette, May 21, 1840, June 26, 1841, March 26, 1842, and April 23, 1842.

(16) Waldstreicher, In the Midst of Perpetual Fetes, 38, chaps. 4-5, esp. pp. 186, 202-3, 219, 226, 249-50, and 271-80. Marion Nelson Winship shows how Kentuckians maintained both a national and regional identity in "Kentucky in the New Republic: A Study of Distance and Connection," in Friend, ed., Buzzel About Kentuck, 100-123. Also see Timothy R. Mahoney, "`A Common Band of Brotherhood': Male Subcultures, the Booster Ethos, and the Origins of Urban Social Order in the Midwest of the 1840s," Journal of Urban History, 25 (July 1999), 620.

(17) Lexington Kentucky Gazette, May 22, 1804, p. 3 (quotations). For more on celebrations of the Louisiana Purchase see ibid., August 16, 1803, p. 3, and May 15, 1804, p. 3; and Waldstreicher, In the Midst of Perpetual Fetes, 205, 286-92. Kentuckians also read of similar events in other locations; for example, Frankfort Guardian of Freedom, February 4, 1805, contains an account of a celebration in New Orleans.

(18) Robert McAfee Journal, June 3, 1808, Robert B. McAfee Papers (UKSC) (first quotation); Lexington Kentucky Gazette, September 12, 1809, p. 3, and September 26, 1809, p. 3 (second quotation). For other examples of muster day events see Lexington Kentucky Gazette, May 26, 1812, p. 3, and June 9, 1812, p. 3. In the 1840s citizens of a community often organized barbecues specifically for their volunteer companies. See Lexington Kentucky Gazette, April 29, 1843; Frankfort Commonwealth, May 7, 1845; and Paris Western Citizen, June 25, July 9, and July 23, 1847. Historians have documented the often comical nature of militia musters--the festival atmosphere, heavy drinking, and general hilarity--in the colonial and early national periods. See, for example, Rhys Isaac, The Transformation of Virginia, 1740-1790 (Chapel Hill, 1982), 104-10; Davis, Parades and Power, 49-72; Ronald L. Boucher, "The Colonial Militia as a Social Institution: Salem, Massachusetts, 1764-1775," Military Affairs, 37 (December 1973), 125-30; Cunliffe, Soldiers and Civilians, 215-41; J. Ritchie Garrison, "Battalion Day: Militia Exercise and Frolic in Pennsylvania Before the Civil War," Pennsylvania Folklife, 26 (Winter 1976-1977), 2-12; and Anthony Marro, "Vermont's Local Militia Units, 1815-1860," Vermont History, 40 (Winter 1972), 28-42.

(19) For celebrations for tax repeals see Lexington Kentucky Gazette, July 2, 1802; and Frankfort Guardian of Freedom, July 7, 1802. For Louisiana Purchase celebrations see n. 17. For the militia's role in canal and railroad dedications see Louisville Public Advertiser, July 16 and 20, 1825; and Frankfort Argus of Western America, November 2, 1831. An account of the Cane Run squirrel hunt appears in Lexington Kentucky Gazette, June 11, 1805, p. 3.

(20) Lexington Kentucky Gazette, May 1, 1810, p. 3 (first and second quotations), May 15, 1810, p. 3, and June 5, 1810, p. 2 (third quotation); Joseph M. Hayse, "Lexington's Early Amateur Actors," Register of the Kentucky Historical Society, 76 (October 1978), 267-84.

(21) Lexington Kentucky Gazette, February 12, 1816, p. 3 (first quotation), August 5, 1824, p. 3 (second quotation), August 12, 1824, p. 3 (third quotation), and September 26, 1836, p. 3 (fourth quotation). In 1837 the Citizen Volunteer Artillery staged a similar shooting contest; see ibid., August 31, 1837, p. 2. In many states following the War of 1812, the traditional militia system that required service of every white adult male atrophied from neglect. In its stead volunteer units were organized, made up of men who sought the camaraderie and fraternity of an all-male organization. State law recognized these companies as legitimate militia organizations, granting exemptions from regular militia service to members of volunteer companies. Mahon, History of the Militia and the National Guard, 78-96; Acts Passed at the First Session of the Eighth General Assembly for the Commonwealth of Kentucky (Frankfort, 1800), 9; Acts Passed at a Session of the Tenth General Assembly for the Commonwealth of Kentucky (Frankfort, 1802), 164.

(22) Don Harrison Doyle, The Social Order of a Frontier Community: Jacksonville, Illinois, 1825-70 (Urbana, Chicago, and London, 1978), 12; Lexington Kentucky Gazette, July 11, 1835, p. 3 (quotations). See also Waldstreicher, In the Midst of Perpetual Fetes, 105; Tolbert, Constructing Townscapes, 83-88; Newman, Parades and the Politics of the Street, 65; and Travers, Celebrating the Fourth, 51.

(23) Waldstreicher, In the Midst of Perpetual Fetes, 71,107 (quotation); Hugh Dalziel Duncan, Communication and Social Order (New York, 1962), 262-63, 264, 279, 285. Travers also notes the deceptive nature of displays of public unity in Celebrating the Fourth, 86-88.

(24) Russellville Mirror, January 5, 1809, p. 3 (quotation). For the militia's role in establishing social order and providing community leadership, see Rohrbough, Trans-Appalachian Frontier, 7, 116-17; Elizabeth A. Perkins, Border Life: Experience and Memory in the Revolutionary Ohio Valley (Chapel Hill and London, 1998), 132-38; Christopher Moms, Becoming Southern: The Evolution of a Way of Life, Warren County and Vicksburg, Mississippi, 1770-1860 (New York and Oxford, 1995), 123-24; and Mahoney, "`A Common Band of Brotherhood,'" 625. Waldstreicher points out that by the 1780s unruly celebrations had given way to more structured and ordered popular displays as Americans learned "how orderly nationalist rejoicing could express their political differences." Waldstreicher, In the Midst of Perpetual Fetes, 68, 107.

(25) Travers, Celebrating the Fourth, 153 (first and second quotations); Tolbert, Constructing Townscapes, 75, 80-81 (third quotation on p. 81); Mahoney, "`A Common Band of Brotherhood,'" 626-28; Waldstreicher, In the Midst of Perpetual Fetes, 71-72, 225; Davis, Parades and Power, 70-71; Duncan, Communication and Social Order, 262-64; Mark E. Kann, A Republic of Men: The American Founders, Gendered Language, and Patriarchal Politics (New York and London, 1998), 46-47. The connections between militia officers and community officials were not exceptional. See John F. and Kathleen Smith Kutolowski, "Commissions and Canvasses: The Militia and Politics in Western New York, 1800-1845," New York History, 63 (January 1982), 5-38.

(26) Acts Passed at the Second Session of the General Assembly for the Commonwealth of Kentucky (Lexington, [1792]), 6; Mary Ann Clawson, Constructing Brotherhood: Class, Gender, and Fraternalism (Princeton, 1989), 94; Dana D. Nelson, National Manhood: Capitalist Citizenship and the Imagined Fraternity of White Men (Durham, N.C., 1998); Waldstreicher, In the Midst of Perpetual Fetes, 242-43; Newman, Parades and the Politics of the Street, 103; Travers, Celebrating the Fourth, 184-85; Mahoney, "`A Common Band of Brotherhood,'" 629; Kann, Republic of Men, 167-68; Duncan, Communication and Social Order, 275. Newman documents the widespread participation at celebrations, showing that at a 1799 July Fourth event in Scott County, Kentucky, nearly 45 percent of the county's adult white male population attended. Newman, Parades and the Politics of the Street, 109.

(27) Cynthia A. Kierner discusses how restrictions on speakers reinforced social status in "Genteel Balls and Republican Parades: Gender and Early Southern Civic Rituals, 1677-1826," Virginia Magazine of History and Biography, 104 (Spring 1996), 198.

(28) Ibid., 195-204; Newman, Parades and the Politics of the Street, 66-67, 85-86; Waldstreicher, In the Midst of Perpetual Fetes, 82, 168-71, 233-35; Travers, Celebrating the Fourth, 137-41; Kann, Republic of Men, 27. For examples of toasts regarding women see Lexington Kentucky Gazette, July 11, 1809, p. 3, July 18, 1809, p. 3, July 21, 1812, p. 2, and August 3, 1813, p. 1; and Louisville Public Advertiser, May 18, 1825, p. 2.

(29) Newman, Parades and the Politics of the Street, 81, 103; Tolbert, Constructing Townscapes, 72; Travers, Celebrating the Fourth, 145-52. The percentage of African Americans in Kentucky's population ranged from a low of 17.6 percent in 1790 (the first year for which records are available) to a high of 24.7 percent in 1830. U.S. Department of Commerce, Historical Statistics of the United States: Colonial Times to 1970 (2 vols.; Washington, D.C., 1975), I, 28.

(30) Lexington Kentucky Gazette, July 28, 1826, p. 3, and August 4, 1826, p. 3 (quotations; emphasis in original); Russellville Weekly Messenger, August 12, 18, and 26, 1826.

(31) Lexington Kentucky Gazette, January 23, 1800, p. 2; Lexington Stewart's Kentucky Herald, January 28, 1800, pp. 2-3.

(32) Lexington Kentucky Gazette, July 12, 1834, p. 3, July 19, 1834, p. 2, and August 2, 1834, p. 3 (quotations).

(33) The Lexington Kentucky Gazette recorded military escorts for deceased governors on October 21, 1816 (George Madison), October 26, 1813 (Charles Scott), and August 29, 1839 (James Clark). For accounts of the reception for Henry Clay Jr.'s body see Louisville Courier, June 22, 1847; and Paris Western Citizen, July 16 and 30, 1847. For examples of memorial processions for other war casualties see Lexington Kentucky Gazette, March 4, 1797; Lexington Stewart's Kentucky Herald, March 7, 1797; Lexington Kentucky Gazette, February 23, 1813, March 2, 1837, August 27, 1840, September 10, 1842, and January 14, 1843; Frankfort Commonwealth, March 4, 1845; and Paris Western Citizen, February 28, 1845, August 20, 1847, September 3, 1847, and July 28, 1848. For Boone's reinterment see Frankfort Commonwealth, August 26, 1845, and September 16, 1845; and Frankfort Kentucky Yeoman, September 18, 1845.

(34) Russellville Weekly Messenger, August 12, 1826 (quotation; emphasis added). See also Newman, Parades and the Politics of the Street, 69-73; Waldstreicher, In the Midst of Perpetual Fetes, 30-32, 138-39, 142-44, 158; Davis, Parades and Power, 66-67; and Robert E. Cray Jr., "Commemorating the Prison Ship Dead: Revolutionary Memory and the Politics of Sepulture in the Early Republic, 1776-1808," William and Mary Quarterly, 3d ser., 56 (July 1999), 565-90.

(35) Ronald P. Formisano, "Deferential-Participant Politics: The Early Republic's Political Culture, 1789-1840," American Political Science Review, 68 (June 1974), 473-87, reprinted in Lance Banning, ed., After the Constitution: Party Conflict in the New Republic (Belmont, Calif., 1989), 30-56.

(36) Henry's ideas appeared in Lexington Kentucky Gazette, October 15, 1791, pp. 2-3, October 22, 1791, pp. 1-2, and December 24, 1791, pp. 2-3. See also Harry S. Laver, "`Chimney Corner Constitutions': Democratization and Its Limits in Frontier Kentucky," Register of the Kentucky Historical Society, 95 (Autumn 1997), 337-67, esp. 346; and Coward, Kentucky in the New Republic, 16, 101.

(37) Lexington Kentucky Gazette, October 15, 1791, p. 2 (quotation), October 22, 1791, pp. 1-2, and February 11, 1792, p. 2; Article 3, Section 1 of the state constitution in Journal of the First Constitutional Convention of Kentucky, Held in Danville, Kentucky, April 2 to 19, 1792 (Lexington, 1942), 15. Debate continues over whether the wording of the constitution meant the inclusion of free blacks in the electorate. The clause pertaining to suffrage reads: "In elections by the Citizens all free male Citizens of the age of twenty-one years ... shall enjoy the rights of an elector," not specifying any racial restrictions. Lowell H. Harrison maintains that the use of the term citizens automatically disqualified blacks from participating at the polls. Joan Wells Coward, on the other hand, notes that the delegates had granted "suffrage to all free men, by intent or accident including free blacks," but that they eliminated such ambiguity at the 1799 convention that revised the original constitution. Harrison, Kentucky's Road to Statehood, 122; Coward, Kentucky in the New Republic, 138.

(38) Lexington Kentucky Gazette, July 1, 1816, p. 3.

(39) Ibid., July 1, 1816, p. 3 (first, second, and third quotations), and July 15, 1816, p. 3 (fourth quotation).

(40) Ibid., July 15, 1816, p. 3 (quotation); C. Edward Skeen, "Vox Populi, Vox Dei: The Compensation Act of 1816 and the Rise of Popular Politics," Journal of the Early Republic, 6 (Fall 1986), 253-74, esp. 256-58. Pope had a lengthy political career, first representing Shelby County in the state legislature in 1802 and Fayette County in 1806. He occupied a seat in the U.S. Senate from 1807 to 1813 and served as the governor of the Arkansas Territory from 1829 to 1835, an appointee of Andrew Jackson. The Biographical Encyclopaedia of Kentucky of the Dead and Living Men of the Nineteenth Century (Cincinnati, 1878), 207.

(41) Lexington Kentucky Gazette, July 22, 1816, p. 3.

(42) Skeen, "Vox Populi, Vox Dei," 253-74; John L. Brooke, The Heart of the Commonwealth: Society and Political Culture in Worcester County, Massachusetts, 1713-1861 (Cambridge, Eng., and other cities, 1989), 245-47 (first quotation on p. 245; second quotation on p. 247).

(43) Russellville Weekly Messenger, February 16, 1828; Frankfort Argus of Western America, January 7, 1829, January 11, 1831, and January 19, 1831; Lexington Kentucky Gazette, January 12, 1833, January 11, 1838, and January 10, 1839. These were apparently nonpartisan celebrations.

(44) Quoted in Lexington Kentucky Gazette, January 17, 1835, p. 3.

(45) Ibid., January 8, 1842, p. 2, and January 28, 1843, p. 2 (first quotation); Frankfort Commonwealth, January 14, 1845 (second quotation).

(46) The political activism of militia units, unlike most activities that they participated in during the early national period, has received a measure of attention. See Waldstreicher, In the Midst of Perpetual Fetes, 157-59; Eysturlid, "`An Opportunity to Show Their Epaulets and Feathers,'" 303-16, esp. 313; Newman, Parades and the Politics of the Street, 69-73; Steven Rosswurm, Arms, Country, and Class: The Philadelphia Militia and the "Lower Sort" during the American Revolution, 1775-1783 (New Brunswick, N.J., and London, 1987); and Albrecht Koschnik, "Political Conflict and Public Contest: Rituals of National Celebration in Philadelphia, 1788-1815," Pennsylvania Magazine of History and Biography, 118 (July 1994), 209-48.

(47) For a discussion of the militia's participation in maintaining civil order during the American Revolution, see Don Higginbotham, "The American Militia: A Traditional Institution with Revolutionary Responsibilities," in Higginbotham, ed., Reconsiderations on the Revolutionary War: Selected Essays (Westport, Conn., and London, 1978), 83-103. No other institution, with the possible exception of the U.S. Army, had the resources to reestablish order in cases of civil insurrection. The regular army's limited strength and deployment, in addition to traditional republican apprehension of professional soldiers, made it an impractical force for stabilizing domestic unrest, whereas the militia existed in nearly every town and county and came without the stigma that burdened the professionals. Travers, Celebrating the Fourth, 182; Cunliffe, Soldiers and Civilians, 90-94, chap. 4; Michael A. Bellesiles, Arming America: The Origins of a National Gun Culture (New York, 2000), 392-400. For the militia's role in riots in other parts of the country see Mahon, History of the Militia and the National Guard; Paul A. Gilje, The Road to Mobocracy: Popular Disorder in New York City, 1763-1834 (Chapel Hill and London, 1987), 25, 81-82, 168; David Grimsted, American Mobbing, 1828-1861: Toward Civil War (New York and Oxford, 1998); Robert W. Coakley, The Role of Federal Military Forces in Domestic Disorders, 1789-1878 (Washington, D.C., 1988); and Mark David Luccioni, "`Fire and Be Damned': Philadelphia Volunteers and the Use of Force in the Riots of 1844" (Ph.D. dissertation, Temple University, 1996).

(48) Lexington Kentucky Gazette, July 26, 1790, p. 2; Harry Innes to the lieutenant of Mason County, May 26, 1790, Harry Innes Papers (UKSC) (first quotation); Isaac Shelby Executive Journal, November 3, 1794, Governor's Papers, Isaac Shelby (Kentucky Historical Society, Frankfort, Ky.; hereinafter cited as KHS) (second, third, and fourth quotations); unknown author to Charles Scott, September 1793, Charles Scott Papers (UKSC) (fifth quotation). Major Elias Bargee of Green County received orders in March 1795 to muster a guard to convey one Robert Cloyd from Lexington to Green County to testify in a felony case; see Isaac Shelby Daybook, March 13, 1795, Isaac Shelby Papers (UKSC). See Christopher Greenup Executive Journal, August 1808, Governor's Papers, Christopher Greenup (KHS), for an account of the militia participating in the search for a wanted murderer. Examples of the militia's role in both criminal and military executions appear in Lexington Kentucky Gazette, June 14, 1794, p. 3; Captain Samuel Worthington to General A. W. Dudley, December 8, 1841, Militia Records; and General Anthony Wayne, campaign fieldbook, November 29, 1794, microfilm 1135 (KHS). Rohrbough finds that in the early republic "the functions of the militia were varied: it supervised elections, conducted censuses, apportioned and collected taxes." Rohrbough, Trans-Appalachian Frontier, 117.

(49) Lexington Kentucky Gazette, August 8, 1835, p. 3 (first and second quotations), and August 22, 1835, p. 2 (third and fourth quotations). Antigambling societies were not uncommon in that era. See Rohrbough, Trans-Appalachian Frontier, 289-90; Morris, Becoming Southern, 121; and Wyatt-Brown, Southern Honor, 342, 349.

(50) Lexington Kentucky Gazette, September 26, 1789, p. 2 (first quotation), and October 24, 1789, p. 1; Lexington Stewart's Kentucky Herald, March 20, 1798, p. 2 (second quotation); William Bradford to General A. Dudley, January 16, 1842, Militia Records (third quotation); Thomas Ross to the colonel of the Lexington Rifles, July 15, 1846, Militia Records (fourth quotation); Thomas Bodley to Harry Bodley, July 17, 1846, Militia Records.

(51) For an example of a rumored slave rebellion and its consequences see Christopher Morris, "An Event in Community Organization: The Mississippi Slave Insurrection Scare of 1835," Journal of Social History, 22 (Fall 1988), 93-111.

(52) George Trotter Jr. to W. W. Worsley, December 3, 1810, Doc. 5CC9, Draper Manuscripts (State Historical Society of Wisconsin, Madison, Wisc.), microfilm, reel 82 (first quotation; emphasis iff original); George Trotter Jr. to Lexington Justices of the Peace, December 2, 1810, Doc. 8CC14, Draper Manuscripts, reel 82; Isaac Shelby to Captain Abner R. Wooley, September 19, 1816, Shelby Papers (UKSC) (second quotation). Kentucky statutes required the militia "to patrol and visit all negro quarters, and other places suspected of entertaining unlawful assemblies of Slaves.... "Acts Passed at the First Session of the General Assembly for the Commonwealth of Kentucky (Lexington, [1792]), 28. In practice, however, members of the town watch instead of the militia usually manned slave patrols. See Sally E. Hadden, Slave Patrols: Law and Violence in Virginia and the Carolinas (Cambridge, Mass., and London, 2001); and Stephen Aron, "`The Poor Men to Starve': The Lives and Times of Workingmen in Early Lexington," in Friend, ed., Buzzel About Kentuck, 186-87.

(53) Henry Dearborn to Christopher Greenup, December 20, 1806, Greenup Governor's Papers; Frankfort Western World, December 25, 1806, p. 2; Federal Writers' Project, Military History of Kentucky., 75. For more on Burr see Gordon S. Wood, "The Real Treason of Aaron Burr," Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society, 143 (June 1999), 280-95; and Milton Lomask, Aaron Burr: The Conspiracy and Years of Exile, 1805-1836 (New York, 1982).

(54) Lexington Kentucky Gazette, August 10, 1827, p. 2 (first, second, and third quotations), and May 16, 1828 (subsequent quotations).

(55)Ibid., January 19, 1833, p. 3.

(56) Ibid., May 23, 1798, p. 1.

(57) John Cole to William Owsley, August 16, 1845, Cole to Owsley, September 1845 (quotations), and J. Quarles to Cole, September 1, 1845, all in Letter Book, 1844-1848, Governor's Papers, William Owsley (KHS).

(58) William Owsley to Peter Dudley, September 7, 1845 (first quotation), Dudley to Owsley, September 8, 1845 (second and third quotations), W. H. Caperton et al. to Dudley, September 8, 1845, all in ibid. Dudley's request for the Lexington Legion may be found in a postscript attached to the Caperton letter.

(59) Owsley to Dudley, September 9, 1845 (first quotation), Dudley to Owsley, September 11, 1845 (second and third quotations), in ibid.; Frankfort Commonwealth, October 7, 1845 (fourth quotation).

(60) William Owsley Executive Journal, January 1, 1846, Owsley Governor's Papers. Dudley issued orders to the Richmond militia on September 8 and discussed their deployment in Manchester in a letter of September 17. The troops may have arrived earlier, but it is doubtful. Dudley to Owsley, September 8, 1845, and Dudley to Owsley, September 17, 1845, Letter Book, 1844-1848, Owsley Governor's Papers.

(61) Rohrbough notes that Governor William C. C. Claiborne "regarded the militia as one of the most important instruments at his disposal, especially for the maintenance of civil order" in the Louisiana Territory. Rohrbough, Trans-Appalachian Frontier, 117. See also Morris, Becoming Southern, 120-23.

(62) The starting point for understanding the transition to a market economy is Charles Sellers, The Market Revolution: Jacksonian America, 1815-1846 (New York and Oxford, 1991). Also see Paul A. Gilje, "The Rise of Capitalism in the Early Republic," Journal of the Early Republic, 16 (Summer 1996), 159-81; Christopher Clark, "Rural America and the Transition to Capitalism," Journal of the Early Republic, 16 (Summer 1996), 223-36; Allan Kulikoff, "The Transition to Capitalism in Rural America," William and Mary Quarterly, 3d ser., 46 (January 1989), 120-44; Morris, Becoming Southern, 35-41; and Rohrbough, Trans-Appalachian Frontier, esp. 35-44 and chap. 4. Recent studies of Kentucky's early economy are Craig Thompson Friend, "`Work and Be Rich: Economy and Culture on the Bluegrass Farm," 124-51, and Christopher Waldrep, "Opportunity on the Frontier South of the Green," 152-72, in Friend, ed., Buzzel About Kentuck; Craig T. Friend, "Merchants and Markethouses: Reflections on Moral Economy in Early Kentucky," Journal of the Early Republic, 17 (Winter 1997), 553-74; Aron, How the West Was Lost; and Elizabeth A. Perkins, "The Consumer Frontier: Household Consumption in Early Kentucky," Journal of American History, 78 (September 1991), 486-510.

(63) Acts Passed at the First Session of the Second General Assembly for the Commonwealth of Kentucky (Lexington, [1793]), 14; Acts Passed at the First Session of the Fourth General Assembly for the Commonwealth of Kentucky (Lexington, [1796]), 51; Shelby Daybook, June 1, 1795. For the Wilderness Road generally see Clement Eaton, A History of the Old South: The Emergence of a Reluctant Nation (2d ed.; New York and London, 1966), 118-22. Militiamen occasionally found themselves with the additional responsibility of building or maintaining roads, another necessity for the region's economic development. See Orders of Lieutenant Colonel George Trotter, August 24, 1805, Scott Papers.

(64) Various orders to garrison the salt works are found throughout Isaac Shelby Memorandum Book, 1792-1794 (KHS). The most productive site was the salt works at Big Bone Lick. For the history of Kentucky's salt works see Thomas D. Clark, "Salt, a Factor in the Settlement of Kentucky," Filson Club History. Quarterly, 12 (January 1938), 42-52. Rohrbough discusses the importance of salt works for providing essential goods to settlers on the frontier in Trans-Appalachian Frontier, 38, 104. Additionally, Friend points out that on the frontier the threat of Indian raids hindered economic growth; not until the removal of that danger in 1794 with Anthony Wayne's victory at Fallen Timbers did settlers have the security to pursue economic expansion. Friend, "Merchants and Markethouses," 556.

(65) John D. Shane interview with George Trumbo, n.d., Doc. 12CC115, Draper Manuscripts, reel 84 (quotations). For an additional account of an Indian attack on an iron furnace, see the Needham Parry Diary, Doc. 14CC5, Draper Manuscripts, reel 85. For examples of orders issued to the militia to provide protection for the iron works, see Walter Beale to Isaac Shelby, April 12, 1793, Shelby Papers (UKSC); James Wilkinson to Shelby, August 25, 1792, Doc. 5U18, Draper Manuscripts, reel 62; and throughout Shelby Memorandum Book, 1792-1794. See also J. Winston Coleman Jr., "Old Kentucky Iron Furnaces," Filson Club History Quarterly, 31 (July 1957), 227-42.

(66) Lexington Kentucky Gazette, July 12, 1794, p. 2 (quotation); Coward, Kentucky in the New Republic, 101; Stuart Seely Sprague, "Kentucky and the Navigation of the Mississippi: The Climactic Years, 1793-1795," Register of the Kentucky Historical Society, 71 (October 1973), 364-92. Rohrbough writes that from 1795 to 1815 "the dominant feature in the economic development of the trans-Appalachian frontier was the Ohio-Missouri-Mississippi river trade axis." Rohrbough, Trans-Appalachian Frontier, 93. See also Friend, "`Work and Be Rich,"' 142-43.

(67) Lexington Kentucky Gazette, November 22, 1803, p. 3 (quotations); Ethan Grant, "The Treaty of San Lorenzo [Pinckney's Treaty] and Manifest Destiny," Gulf Coast Historical Review, 12 (Spring 1997), 44-57.

(68) Lexington Kentucky Gazette, March 13, 1800, p. 2 (quotations); Lexington Stewart's Kentucky Herald, March 11, 1800, p. 3; Frankfort Palladium, March 20, 1800.

(69) Lexington Kentucky Gazette, February 5, 1811, p. 3 (quotations); Aron, "`Poor Men to Starve,"' 183. For more on how organization accelerated Kentucky's participation in the national economy, see Friend, "Merchants and Markethouses," 573.

(70) McAfee Journal, June 11 and 25, 1808; Rohrbough, Trans-Appalachian Frontier, 30; Acts Passed at the First Session of the Nineteenth General Assembly for the Commonwealth of Kentucky (Frankfort, 1811), 119; Waldrep, "Opportunity on the Frontier South of the Green," 157-58. In Border Life, 124, Elizabeth A. Perkins points out that militia service also brought the rewards of pay and occasionally plunder, both of economic benefit to the militiamen. A poem appeared in Lexington Kentucky Gazette, April 24, 1810, p. 3, critical of tax assessments and the use of the militia muster as a place for their collection. The anonymous poet lampooned the men selected' from each company to serve as tax assessors:

   The following oath each man must take,
   Before that he can progress make:
   "Upon my oath, I, AB, ab,
   Do here affirm, that I will nab
   Each he or she, that comes to muster,
   Or else I'll make a desp'rate bluster."

   He'll hold his court on muster days
   When men shall come from different ways
   And women too with mighty rumpuss,
   Flocking from all points of the compass.

(71) Shelby Daybook, June 1, 1795 (first quotation); Lexington Kentucky Gazette, June 1, 1833, p. 3 (second and third quotations); James Winchester Logbook, November 2, 1812 (UKSC); Charles Scott Journal, October 10, 1794 (Filson Club Historical Society, Louisville, Ky.). The Mounted Volunteers from Kentucky who served under Major General Charles Scott in 1794 recorded expenditures for "complete rations," which included meat, bread, salt, flour, soap, and candles. These articles amounted to $24,336.22. Add in the ever-present whiskey allotments, purchased for another $751.99, and the local economy received a $25,088.21 boost. Statement of Account, 1794, in Military Correspondence, James Young Love Papers (Filson Club Historical Society).

(72) Receipt issued by John B. Tilford, 1842, Militia Records; A. R. Crosby to unknown, April 1847, Militia Records; also see receipts and bills of lading for shipment of arms from Louisville to Frankfort totaling $550, May 1848, Militia Records. Allan Kulikoff briefly discusses the competition in Virginia to gain military contracts in "Transition to Capitalism in Rural America," 137.

(73) Lexington Stewart's Kentucky Herald, March 27, 1798, p. 3 (first and second quotations); Account of the Lexington Troop of Cavalry, 1807, Scott Papers; Lexington Kentucky Gazette, August 17, 1793, p. 2 (third quotation), October 27, 1812, p. 3 (fourth quotation), and May 11, 1813, p. 1 (fifth and sixth quotations); Bardstown Candid Review, September 8, 1807 (seventh and eighth quotations). A similar description of a North Carolina volunteer company appeared in Frankfort Palladium, November 3, 1810: "The uniform, arms and equipage of this company are entirely of home manufacture. I have been thus particular in describing the uniform from a hope that example so laudable and patriotic will be followed by the different volunteer companies in the state." For other examples of advertisements see Lexington Kentucky Gazette, March 18, 1797, August 21, 1818, July 9, 1819, and March 24, 1820. Perkins explains that such consumerism "encouraged competitive display" and "facilitated social integration, linking people in a fraternity of shared values," in "Consumer Frontier," 509.

(74) Lexington Kentucky Gazette, October 9, 1815, p. 3 (first quotation); Frankfort Palladium, November 21, 1799, p. 3 (second quotation); Lexington Kentucky Gazette, April 27, 1813, p. 4 (third quotation; emphasis in original).

(75) Lexington Kentucky Gazette, March 28, 1809, p. 1 (first and second quotations), May 25, 1813, p. 1 (third quotation), September 16, 1816, p. 3 (fourth quotation). Most of the itinerant military instructors' advertisements first appeared during a five-year period from 1809 to 1816: for example, Lexington Kentucky Gazette, March 28, 1809 (Joseph Ellerbeck); April 4, 1809 (John R. Shaw); May 25, 1813 (John Cipriani); September 9, 1816 (Major Chevis); and July 24, 1814, December 9, 1830, August 31, 1833, October 8, 1840, and April 23, 1842 (R. I. Dunn). Lisa Tolbert demonstrates that participation in such "organized, homosocial groups" prepared young men for "a world of party politics and vital economic partnerships." Tolbert, Constructing Townscapes, 158.

(76) Brooke, Heart of the Commonwealth, 307-8.

(77) W. Lloyd Warner, American Life: Dream and Reality (rev. ed.; Chicago, 1962), 7-8, quoted in Steven Lukes, "Political Ritual and Social Integration," Sociology, 9 (May 1975), 294-95; Emile Durkheim, The Elementary Forms of the Religious Life: A Study in Religious Sociology, trans. Joseph Ward Swain (London and New York, 1915), 427.

(78) John L. Brooke, "Ancient Lodges and Self-Created Societies: Voluntary Association and the Public Sphere in the Early Republic," in Ronald Hoffman and Peter J. Albert, eds., Launching the "Extended Republic": The Federalist Era (Charlottesville and London, 1996), 276. Brooke's primary focus is on Masonic orders; he does not include the militia in his study.

MR. LAVER is an assistant professor of history at Southeastern Louisiana University.