On the sound and light failings of canvas tents.

My dear ladies, there is one warning that I always give new living historians and remind those veteran to this hobby, because it bears repeating. To reinforce my point, I give the following quote from Adelaide W. Smith, in her book "Reminisces of an Army Nurse During the Civil War":

"Though our tents were not transparent, the candle distinctly formed our silhouette on the walls as we sat talking with friends, so that passers could recognize visitors and perhaps wait for a more favorable time to call. "

I'll give you a moment to think on that.

Moment up yet?

Let me spell it out a little more. Canvas tents are not stone, nor timber, nor yet plaster walls. There is no insulation - indeed, it's just some particularly heavy fabric between you and the elements. That also means that there is no real sound dampening qualities to your tent.

Ever play shadow puppets?

While by and large other people are polite and discreet, and do not point out things that could be of potential embarrassment to one of their own, it helps if you do not supply them with things to conveniently forget in the first place. Like say...changing in your tent with a candle or lantern lit inside. Or taking a camp bath. Or, heavens forfend - having intimate moments with your significant other.

Even if you blow the candle out, there is zero sound dampening. Zero. They are. Hearing. Everything. Even if you're trying to be quiet. Capisce? Yes, I'm sure you do.

So please, ladies. Lay out your clothing and learn to change in the dark, or change and/or bathe before night falls, or I can't promise there won't be cheering and applause involved outside. It may be good-natured and amongst friends, but mortifying all the same.

You'll thank me this season.