Editor’s Note: This is an ongoing series which runs each Thursday morning titled the Richland Chronicles by author Paul Lintern. It is set in 1831 and tells the story of Richland County through the eyes of a young girl.
Amelia thought she was looking at a big old woodpile. Turned out, it was going to be her home for the summer.
“My, aren’t you the most precious young lady,” said one of the three women that greeted her at the doorway. “So well-dressed even after such a long journey.”
Amelia looked at her dress. Two weeks earlier, it was crisp and fresh. Now it and all of her dresses were quite rumpled and worn from her travels.
“I am a long way from Boston,” she thought to herself.
“Do come in,” the woman said. “I’m Elizabeth, and these are my sisters — Katherine, and Margaret, but you can call her Peggy.”
“Aunt Peggy, if you like,” smiled the other woman. “Uncle Jacob’s wife.”
Aunt and Uncle? thought Amelia. I don’t even know them, and now I am related? But she politely uttered, “Thank you.”
The building, known as the Oakland Inn, was a two-story log cabin, twice as long as it was wide, with two doors in the middle, and a small window on either side.
It had wooden shingles on the roof that seemed moss covered.
Except for a red and white gingham curtain covering the window glass, the whole building looked like part of the forest, just with trees stacked rather than standing.
Inside the dark dining area sat several tables and chairs for guests in one room downstairs, with a wall that separated it from the kitchen.
At the one end, near the fireplace, was a stairway, which Amelia later learned led up to two rooms for the family. At the other end was another stairway, leading to rooms for guests.
Charles, a longtime servant of Amelia’s family, had accompanied her and was now bringing in two large trunks. He would start back the next day, and return at the end of the summer.
The trunks barely fit up the stairs.
Amelia now felt a little embarrassed by the amount of clothing she had brought, as there was so little extra space in the family bedroom.
“Do you all live here?” Amelia asked, trying not to sound concerned.
“In this room, my, no,” said Elizabeth.
“Katherine and her new husband, John, live in a cabin about a quarter mile west of here, with their son Isaac. He’s 12. I live here with Peggy and Jacob.”
“And our children, of course,” Peggy chimed in. “Autumn will be disappointed that she was not here when you arrived. She’s been counting the days, and is so happy to have a new ‘sister,’ especially her own age.
“She is giving our littlest, Joshua, a ride on our horse. He is not even 3 yet, but can’t spend enough time on ol’ Chestnut.”
Amelia was relieved there were only five living in the house, although that seemed plenty cramped. Peggy seemed to notice.
“It’s a tight fit, but mostly in the wintertime, when we can’t get out so much. In the summer, there is plenty of opportunity to play, work, eat, even sleep outside, or in the barn,” she said. “Besides, be glad that our two boys are away at college. Luke is at Bowdoin College in Maine, and Samuel is at that new Miami University near Cincinnati. When they are home, it’s tight.”
Amelia smiled weakly. She had left a modern Boston of 1831; this seemed like she was back in the 1700s. Elizabeth, who with Charles had just walked in, studied Amelia’s face, and added her reassurance.
“I suppose this is a bit of an adjustment for you, but I promise you will have a wonderful summer here. Just think of it as a European vacation without all the buildings and boats and restaurants and artists and history and culture.”
Elizabeth paused expectantly. Amelia didn’t know what to make of that ridiculous statement.
Then Elizabeth erupted in laughter, with her sisters joining in. Amelia offered a nervous smile.
As they all walked back down the stairs to the dining area Amelia heard the sound of hooves outside the door. Soon, a thin, long- haired girl about her height came in, chasing a red-haired 3-year-old.
The toddler, Joshua, strutted across the room to Peggy, reaching for her to pick him up. The girl stopped at the fireplace, as if to size up Amelia. Autumn’s plain brown skirt covered bare feet, and her cream-colored muslin blouse completed a most basic outfit.
“Hello, I am Amelia Pendergast.”
“Autumn Zeiters. Welcome to Oakland.”
Any further formalities were immediately canceled as Joshua scampered up to Amelia to show off the toad that he had found on his expedition with Autumn.
“Oh, well, isn’t that, uh, nice.” Amelia said, holding the toad in her hand, and hoping that it wasn’t true about getting warts from them.
“Josh, find a place for that toad outside. He doesn’t get to live with us here,” Peggy said.
“Uh, uh,” said Josh.
“That toad needs to be outside,” Peggy said.
“Come on, little brother,” said Autumn.
“We’ll find a good place for him. Ask Amelia to come with us.”
Josh gave a look Amelia’s way, and that was enough. She headed outside in the beautiful June weather, leaving Charles to give the women whatever instructions he had.
Upon stepping back outside, Amelia now noticed a barn located behind the tavern, and several outbuildings throughout the grounds, including a few small cabins that looked like sleeping quarters for servants or hired hands.
“So you are from Boston,” Autumn said.
“Yes, it is a large city on the eastern seaboard, with many beautiful buildings and homes. It is in a state called Massachusetts, one of the original 13 colonies.”
“I know where it is, we have geography studies, too,” Autumn said, a little sarcastically.
“Of course, I didn’t mean…” Amelia remembered the advice her father had given her before she left, not to assume that people aren’t refined and educated, just because they don’t look it.
“The frontier may have a different surface, but can be just as good underneath,” he told her.
She scolded herself for forgetting that
Autumn held up her hand as if to say no offense taken.
“Father’s talked a lot about Boston, although it certainly must be different than when he left there.”
“How long ago was that?”
“He said he moved to Ohio the year it became a state, and that was in 1803.”
Amelia did the math.
“That was 28 years ago. Yes, I am sure it is much different. Why would he move out here?”
“You can ask him,” Autumn said. “I see the wagon coming up the road.”
