Tobias: Tales From the Old Stone House by Headline Books / Zoom Into Books

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Mary Louise “Cookie” Soldo Schultz

“Tobias is up to his old tricks! Cookie Schultz introduced me to this mouse a few years back. He lives at the Old Stone House on Chestnut Street in Morgantown, West Virginia, which makes him one of my constituents, and he’s quite an historian. In Cookie’s first book Tobias: The Mouse in the Old Stone House, Tobias shared the adventures of his ancestors in Morgan’s Town, much to my delight as well as for the enjoyment of the younger members of my community. Tobias’ Activity & Workbook for Young Learners continues the tale with illustrations and activities to entertain along the way. With insight into early frontier life, Tobias’ story provides a creative perspective to arouse curiosity and introduce the young reader to the joys of history. I most whole-hardly recommend that you make Tobias’ acquaintance.” Wm. A. Kawecki Mayor, City of Morgantown WV

Tobias: Tales from the Past at the Old Stone House

The Old Stone House, one of the oldest historical structures in Morgantown, has a story to tell and a place in West Virginia history. Those who lived in this historic home shaped the very fabric of their community. In this beautifully illustrated book, Sammy visits the Old Stone House with his grandmother and unexpectedly meets Tobias, a remarkable mouse who is also the keeper of the family Journal, one which brings to life the compelling history of the town while interweaving the fictional lives of Tobias' ancestors. This story of family, tradition and legacy is meant to provide our youth with a passion for history, a history which is worth celebrating and preserving.

Mary Louise “Cookie” Soldo Schultz

This book is dedicated to those who have lived in the Old Stone House and whose lives have created such an engaging narrative.

Tobias: Tales from the Past at the Old Stone House by Mary Louise “Cookie” Soldo Schultz Art Compiled by and Illustrated by The Headline Kids Book Group copyright ©2021 Mary Louise Soldo Schultz All rights reserved. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents, except where noted otherwise, are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any other resemblance to actual people, places or events is entirely coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any other form or for any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording or any information storage system, without written permission from Headline Books. To order additional copies of this book, or for book publishing information, or to contact the author: Headline Kids P. O. Box 52 Terra Alta, WV 26764 Email: mybook@headlinebooks.com www.headlinebooks.com Mary Louise Soldo Schultz 131 Lamplighter Drive, Morgantown, West Virginia 26508 Published by Headline Books Headline Kids is an imprint of Headline Books ISBN-13: 9781946664938 Library of Congress Control Number: 2020950643 PR I N T E D I N T H E U N I T E D STAT E S OF A M E R IC A

The tales begin..

Like so many summer days in June when Sammy was visiting his grandparents, he awoke with a feeling of adventure and excitement. The week before, he had accompanied his Nonny to a gift shop in an historic stone house in Morgantown, West Virginia, where she worked as a volunteer. Today they were returning to the house, which now served as the headquarters of the Service League. This time Sammy knew that his new friend Tobias, a dignified and rather articulate mouse, would be awaiting his arrival. Sammy had not expected to make a friend during his last visit; in fact, it was purely by chance as both Sammy and Tobias had been quite startled to meet one another. After polite introductions, Tobias had invited Sammy into his room under the staircase in the Old Stone House to share a pot of tea. It was then that he revealed his treasure to Sammy. Tobias was the keeper of a much worn family journal that recorded not only the history of his ancestors, but also of the families who had lived in this house and who were witness to so much of the history of Morgantown. Sammy fondly recalled the first two entries that his new friend had shared with him. They dated from 1805 and were written by the patriarch of the family, a mouse named Isaac. Although the pages were yellow and faded, Tobias adjusted his monocle and read the following with Sammy. 3

May 5, 1805 Dear Journal, ever My wife Sarah and I have been living here abeth, since Jacob Nuze moved with his wife, Eliz this from their lonely farm on Aaron’s Creek into abeth beautiful stone house. I remember hearing Eliz t here say that at last she felt safer with a cistern righ that in our cellar and windows on the third floor d it so could help us to defend our dwelling. She foun shops much easier to manage her household with and nearby like Thomas Laidley’s mercantile shop Frederic Gibler’s tannery. e Sarah and I have been fortunate enough to shar a bit many fond memories of Morgan’s Town. I was Sarah’s more adventurous in those days, much to 4 when dismay! I recall one adventure back in 178 out to I hid in Zack Morgan’s wagon as he traveled r. Zack, John Pierpont’s house near the Cheat Rive with who was the founder of our town, was meeting ongalia Captain Samuel Hanway, the surveyor of Mon imagine County, and George Washington. Can you great our excitement as we anticipated meeting the hington hero of the Revolutionary War? General Was better was here to discuss the development of a River to system of transportation from the Potomac it was the Ohio River. His plan was not fulfilled, but t man! such an honor to be in the presence of this grea ton was We did not know it then but General Washing soon to become our first President! this Jacob and Elizabeth seemed happy in d them little house until, one day, Sarah overhear pounds, discussing the sale of the house, for 30 uary of to a Mr. Henry Dering. By the end of Jan 4

1795, Henry, his wife Rebecca and their children had moved into our little home. We welcomed their arrival and the merriment that they provided as we all were recovering from the recent death of our beloved founder, Zack Morgan, on New Year’s Day. The Derings were quite well known in Morgan’s Town as they had opened up a tavern at the corner of High Street and Walnut Street when they arrived in 1787. Between the scraps of food George, Maria, Harriet, Henry and Sophia dropped here in the house and what we could gather from their tavern, Sarah and I were more easily able to feed our growing family. Sadly, not only did the log courthouse burn down in 1796—Dering’s tavern also burned the same year. They soon replaced it and I must add, that not only were Rebecca and Henry rebuilding their tavern, they were also building quite a large family! What wonderful sounds we heard coming from the two bedrooms upstairs when their son William was born in 1797, followed by John two years later and finally by Frederick just three years ago in 1802. Mrs. Dering now owns a slave named Sawney who is helping her with her daily chores. This has given Rececca a little more time to spend instructing her children and we, too, are learning from her lessons. My Sarah has been quite attentive to Rebecca’s needlework instructions to her daughters and is now making a sampler of her own with our beautiful stone home surrounded by a row of letters, numbers and some lovely birds and flowers. I am so proud of my wife! She can also count among her new found accomplishments an interest in penmanship. Sarah practices every day with her quill pen in her own 5

s Rebecca made book that she modeled on the one se is filled with for her own eight children. Our hou are those times joy and the only fear that we have hiding places. It when we hear feet approaching our back to the safety is these moments when we scurry of our room under the staircase. Dering of late We have also been quite proud of Mr. the construction as he has been the contractor for y busy with this of our new courthouse. He was ver s just completed project which began in 1801 and wa time, the sheriff two years ago in 1803. During this rt sessions in asked Mr. Dering to hold two cou and changing so his tavern. Our town is growing from our house, rapidly. Why now, directly across which he is also Mr. Fauquir McRa has built a house derful location operating as a tavern. It is in a won the river. Sarah on Walnut Street and is just up from ding our family and I rarely have to worry about fee with these taverns so nearby! in this first There has been so much to record will not last much journal. The soft light of my candle t approaching. longer and I feel that slumber is fas my family and of I will try to add to the history of I read over these Morgan’s Town in a short while. As d my Sarah and first few lines, I recognize how blesse wth of this new I have been to be a part of the gro e lived here in town and of the two families who hav our cozy stone house on Long Alley.

Isaac

May 19, 1805 Dear Journal, The distant call of the whippoorwill has begun and through the windows the stars, those tiny treasures of the night, are lending a war m glow to the Dering’s parlor. There is very little foot traffic now. The usual hustle and bustle of dail y life in our frontier town of about 60 houses has cea sed. John Thompson’s tailor shop, John Shisler’s wag on works and John Protzman’s cobbler shop have been closed for several hours. If our house was situated closer to the river, we might be able to hear the quie t sounds of the water lapping against the dock at the foot of Walnut Street. But it is not and now I hear only a whisper of sound within our home and the sound of the night birds without. This is my favorite time of the day as I begin to gather my thoughts like the pieces of a quilt. A fortnight ago, when I wrote my first entr y, I forgot to mention that in October of 1785, Sar ah and I were out enjoying the first hint of autumn with our newborn son, James, when we saw a man in brown breeches walking down Long Alley. His Eng lish was quite difficult to understand as he gree ted Mrs. Nuze, who was gathering ferns along the shaded pathways near our house. With a friendly “bonjour,” he said his name was Albert Gallatin and he was here in the county seat to become a naturalize d citizen. Sarah, James and I hid in a nearby thicket in hopes of learning more about this man with the decidedly strange accent. He explained he was born in Geneva, Swi tzerland and came to America in 1780 at the age of 19. Two 7

ed a position at years after his arrival, he accept as a French tutor Harvard College in Massachusetts tern lands of the but soon decided to explore the wes on the frontier Ohio River Valley. He liked his life Fayette County, and spent the summer of 1785 in e, who was fond close to Morgan’s Town. Mrs. Nuz he stop by for of hosting sociable parties, suggested his affairs at the refreshments after he concluded courthouse. n was at our Later in the afternoon, Mr. Gallati slight chill in the door. As it was a fall day, there was a in our fireplace. air and Mrs. Nuze had made a fire t table for her In front of the fire, she set an elegan Queen’s ware guest with her best blue and cream white cotton on a delicate hand-woven pink and Mrs. Nuze for cloth. We heard Mr. Gallatin praise tangy pot of tea. her tasty ginger cookies and for the the ginger root Mrs. Nuze explained she purchased store and was that very morning at Mr. Laidley’s by midday! After happy to make excellent use of it upside down on a while, Mr. Gallatin turned his cup d this was the his saucer and Mrs. Nuze understoo al to his hostess it most mannerly way for him to sign With a polite “au was time for him to take his leave. I retreated to revoir,” he was on his way. Sarah and hearts filled with our home under the staircase, our the joy of the day. I close this Well, goodbye, dear reader. Before blue forget-mejournal tonight, I am pressing a tiny my son, James not between these pages to remind tinue to narrate and following generations, to con the adventures of our mouse family. 8

Isaac

Sammy was delighted to learn about the early history of this frontier settlement and of the Nuze and Dering families, who were the earliest families to live in this impressive stone house. As Tobias was reading the last line of the entry of May 19, a very brittle forget-me-knot fell from the pages. This for Sammy was a reminder of how the past links to the present and awakened in him a curiosity to learn more about this remarkable mouse and his ancestors’ place in the history of Morgantown. Sammy’s reverie passed quickly as he looked around his cozy bedroom. On this particular June morning, the sun was casting dappled shadows on the patchwork quilt that Nonny had spread on his bed the night before. The quilt, pieced together by his great grandmother, gave Sammy a sense of belonging to something unique. Today, Sammy would not allow himself to daydream about his ancestor who had sewn it. He had other ancestors to meet…Tobias’. So, with uncharacteristic determination, Sammy slipped out of bed and hurriedly made his way to the kitchen.

Nonny’s kitchen never disappointed. For Sammy it was magical. The smell of coffee brewing, the burning candle, the blue checked curtains that framed the window above her sink were so familiar and gave him a feeling of deep comfort. Pots of geraniums bloomed in another window, crimson and cheerful, and on the counter he spied an arrangement of stoneware crocks that his grandparents had collected over the years. 11

Nonny had already prepared his favorite breakfast of buttermilk biscuits and orange juice. There was also a large bowl of blueberries they picked the day before. This was a summer ritual they never missed. He chose his favorite chair, the chair Nonny called the “memory chair.” An old pine chair with a rush seat, she said she could never refinish it because all the scratches on it documented the three generations of his grandfather’s family who had used it and rendered them immortal. And while we could no longer see their physical selves, their spirits and the memory of them were captured by this one pine chair so lovingly preserved as the “the memory chair.”

They did not linger over breakfast. Sammy’s grandfather had announced that he intended to spend the morning in his garden and Sammy and his grandmother were expected to be at the Old Stone House by eleven. With a quick goodbye, all three were ready to start their day and, unbeknownst to Nonny, Sammy was anticipating another adventure with his new friend.

As soon as they arrived, Sammy half-heartedly settled into a puzzle. He was anxiously waiting for the familiar bell to ring at the front door, announcing the arrival of another customer. Finally it happened, so as soon as he saw his grandmother was engaged, he quietly slipped away with hopes of finding Tobias under the stairs. The bond of friendship was evident on both their faces and, after heartfelt greetings, they immediately took up their conversation of the previous week. 17

“Tobias,” Sammy asked, “who lived in the house after Henry Dering and his family?” “Well, Sammy,” Tobias answered, “in 1807 the house was sold to Jacob Foulk, one of the earliest potters to settle here. Later that year James, the son of my earliest ancestors Isaac and Sarah, took up residence in this room. Here, over the couch, is a portrait of his family. The one on the left is James, his wife Sophie is in the middle, and their only son Nicholas is on the right.” “I wonder how we have a painting of this family,” Sammy inquired. “Artists travelled from town to town during this era. They were known as Limner painters. This artist was traveling from Connecticut to Virginia and came as far west as Morgan’s Town. He hoped he might be asked to paint some of our most important citizens. Since he was staying directly across the street from our house at Mr. Fauquir McRa’s tavern, James persuaded him to paint his family,” said Tobias. 18

“Tobias,” Sammy remarked, “Sophie’s glasses remind me of yours. It looks like they both have only one lens.” “This is called a monocle,” Tobias replied, “and I believe James explains how Sophie found the monocle in this entry in our family Journal. Let me read it to you.” 19

May 23, 1808 Dear Journal, Sophie and I have been living in our beautiful room under the staircase for almost seven months. My parents are gone now but we hope to provide the same comfortable home for our family. The house is now owned by Jacob Foulk, a potter, who is living here with his new wife, Elizabeth. It is the perfect location for a pottery because of the natural spring that flows through the basement. Sophie, however, has been having a hard time keeping our home clean because of all the clay dust in the air and because of her poor eyesight. Luckily, one evening, I found an old pair of eyeglasses under a table in the front room. I dragged them into our house and have been able to adapt them to Sophie’s face. I have twisted them quite a bit now so that she is using them as a monocle. We are expecting our first child soon and Sophie has been preparing a cozy corner for the baby. I wonder whether it will be a boy or a girl. Well, goodbye for now, dear reader. Twilight has begun to settle over our town and a feeling of peace has washed over our home. All is silent and still. I tucked Sophie into bed a while ago, Jacob and his wife have retired and I too am drowsing into sleep.

James 20

“Well, Tobias,” remarked Sammy, we have solved the mystery of the twisted glasses, but I wonder if we will find out more about James and Sophie’s new baby.” “Let’s read the next entry and you will have your answer very soon,” replied Tobias.

July 21, 1808 Dear Journal, and Our son Nicholas was born on June 14th rts. This has consumed much of our time and effo to write is the very first moment I have been able y I have to in our family Journal and what a stor e spirited. tell! Nicholas, to say the least, is quit slip away He loves adventures and is not afraid to just last from us when the spirit moves him. Why n, Sophie week, he wandered away and in desperatio of Walnut scampered down to the wharf at the foot ing to his Street only to find our young son wav t had just mother from the stern of a flatboat tha anded him docked there. Of course, Sophie reprim have now for straying too far from home, but we has a mind come to understand that our young son ted havoc of his own. Yesterday, Nicholas again crea a good part in our tiny home. Elizabeth Foulk spent making her of the morning baking Queen’s cakes and roses she very first batch of rose petal jam from the se aromas gathered from her summer garden. The olas. Oh, were just too inviting for our little Nich w...or so what happiness awaited our lively little fello to leave the he anticipated. He watched for Elizabeth he scurried parlor and, when the coast was clear, straight for out from beneath the stairs and headed nged on the tea table. The cakes were carefully arra e and near her best blue and white Queen’s ware plat e jar that it she had placed an earthenware preserv apprentice, her husband had made with his former 24

Charles Snodgrass. The smell of the newly cook ed jam, cooling in the jar, plus the warm cakes we re too much of a temptation for our mischievous son, who abandoned all rules of polite behavior! Just as he reached the table and was about to snatch a ca ke for himself, he was startl ed by the heavy footstep s of Elizabeth re-entering the room. Spying the tin y thief, she raced to the ta ble in front of the fireplac e, slapped her hands down in hopes of trapping ou r Nicholas but, instead, ca ught the edge of her pla te of cakes. Disaster struck! All was in an uproar. Th e Queen’s ware plate and th e preserve jar flew up in th e air and came crashing do wn to the hearth, breakin g into tiny shards. The soun d was unlike anything we had ever heard and Nich olas, stunned, reached ou r quarters with no time to spare. Sophie administer ed a harsh scolding to our sp unky son for, not only wa s he foolish enough to emer ge from our home in plain daylight, but he had ina dvertently stepped into a puddle of jam and was tra cking it all over Sophie’ s clean floor.

James 25

“Oh, No! said Sammy, “I wonder if Nicholas ever learned to behave in a more reasonable manner? Perhaps this incident explains those pottery shards that are now in that glass cabinet to the right of the fireplace.” With a twinkle in his eye, Tobias hinted to Sammy that Nicholas would soon meet an unlikely companion who would have a positive influence on him. “Sammy,” continued Tobias, “from what I have read in historical accounts of this era in Morgan’s Town, Jacob Foulk could easily have been the worst influence on Nicholas. He had many disturbing adventures and often appeared in court records. As you might imagine, Nicholas was being raised in an unpredictable household. But, through the steady influence of his parents and his mentor, Nicholas, as you will soon learn, became a mouse of integrity and compassion. He gradually began to find a tranquility about him which inner peace can give. Let me show you the entry in which his mother reveals the unlikely mentor for her son.”

As Sammy began to read the Journal, he was surprised to see that this entry was written by Sophie and not by her husband James. It was dated May 2, 1809.

Dear Journal,

May 2, 1809

I write in our Journal tonight because I feel that a mother enjoys the privilege of relating happy news. It is with great pride that James and I will be announcing the marriage of our son to a very sweet mouse who lives nearby in the household of Michael Kerns. Mr. Kerns operates a gristmill in our growing town and also builds flatboats near where Decker’s Creek joins the Monongahela River. Now it is clear to me why Nicholas had run away from our home the day that I found him waving to me from the flatboat. I feared that he was interested in the whiskey that was being shipped on the boat, but now I know differently. He had become smitten with a lovely mouse named Eliza Jane and had caught a glimpse of her on the stern of the boat. He had followed her on to the boat and, once there, he spied me and, with a sheepish grin, was waving to me! They recently announced their engagement to us and we will soon be joining with her parents in marriage festivities. I am looking forward to an afternoon of games, music and dancing, and, of course, delicious foods. We were not quite sure that we would ever see the day when Nicholas could take on such a responsibility but, as it happened, he has learned wisdom and judgement with the arrival of a cat named Charlie. Jacob Foulk had noticed this cat for several days. He first saw him loitering around the pottery shop of his old friend John Scott and, on another day, the cat 29

was poking around the brewery of Hugh McNeely up the street from our house on the corner of Long Alley and Bumbo Lane. I heard Jacob telling Elizabeth that this might be just the cat they were looking for. The cat was somewhat unkempt with orange marmalade fur and a long mangy tail that showed the results of having been in at least one battle. It was bitten off at the tip and could no longer remain upright for any length of time. His once magnificent whiskers were now quite diminished and those on the left were shorter than those on the right side of his face and appeared to have been scorched by the flame of a candle. He had all four paws but the left one was missing two nails, also evidence of his life on the streets! The cat appeared hungry and Jacob lured him back to our house with bits of meat and a promise of warm cow’s milk. Jacob named him Charlie, after his first pottery apprentice, and hoped that he would be just the cat to keep the mice population in check. As it turned out, Charlie was not the cat that Jacob had in mind! Charlie much prefers to inhabit the cellar where, in summer, he can escape the heat of the day. The walls are built of thick stone and provide insulation in all seasons. The cistern in the center has supplied water to the families of Jacob Nuze, Henry Dering and now Jacob and Elizabeth Foulk. Charlie enjoys chasing the occasional critters that make their way into the cellar but he has never ever threatened Nicholas, James or me! Instead, 30

he has enjoyed the companionship of Nicholas and, on many evenings, the unlikely pair (for they are a cat and a mouse you know) can be found in conversation out under the trees in the orchard next to our house. Charlie, it appears, has mellowed with age and experience and has become a mentor to our son. Through him Nicholas has learned wisdom, respect, responsibility and friendship. One evening, James and I overheard Charlie advising Nicholas to meet adversity head on. This, he said, would make our rascal a stronger individual and provide him with judgement and integrity. James and I now feel that Nicholas will be a worthy husband to Eliza Jane and will carry on our family legacy with dignity.

Sophie

“Sammy,” Tobias remarked to his visitor, “I treasure this entry by Sophie and can just imagine how relieved she and James were when Charlie turned out to be such a taming influence on their son.” “Yes, Tobias,” Sammy agreed, “it seems that Nicholas became a source of pride for his parents as he grew older.” “I remember there are several beautiful descriptions of Nicholas and Eliza Jane’s wedding day. Let’s see if we can find them right now,” Tobias added.

October 23, 1809 Dear Journal, The wedding of Nicholas to his sweet bride, Eliza Jane, was a festive occasion! James and I are fatigued after these several days of merriment but I must gather my thoughts this evening before retiring. We so enjoyed celebrating this marriage with many of our friends and relatives who joined us from near and far. Why, do you know, the grandest thrill was the arrival of my cousin Linnaeus, who came all the way from Williamsburg, in the southeastern part of our state. A bachelor, he has lived in the choir loft of Bruton Parish Church for many years and this church mouse has become quite an ardent violinist! We knew that he had been exposed to some of the more interesting tunes of Colonial Williamsburg and thought that, if he could find his way to us, he could not only perform the wedding ceremony but also regale us with his songs throughout the day and evening. Eliza Jane, who is quite knowledgeable about such matters, had requested some tunes by the American composer Francis Hopkinson and Linnaeus informed us that he would have the very great pleasure of performing some of these songs for the wedding.

My cousin is a very inventive traveler and arrived here several days early by post! He had learned that a mail shipment was leaving William sburg for western Virginia in good time for our celebration and he decided right then and there to tuck himself into a corner of the canvas mail bag. How fortunate he was to discover that he would be trav eling with not only the many letters destined to be delivered to folks awaiting news from Europe and from these shores, but with three big Virginia ham s! These succulent hams provided him with tast y morsels along the way and added to the overall enjoyment of his excursion. He later told us that the roads were quite rough but, in due course, he arri ved at the house of our postmaster, Dr. Enos Daughe rty, well in time for our festive gathering! Dr. Daughe rty, by the way, has not only been our postmaster since 1803 but also has the added distinction of bein g a resident physician here. Upon arriving, Cousin Linn aeus did

ose hams so, instead not want to lose sight of th to us, he lingered a of coming straight away come to fetch them. while to see who would people to James and After describing these that one was John me, we later concluded fine carriage shop at Shisler, who operates a reet. The second was the bottom of Pleasant St s had a cobbler shop John Protzman, who ha 1805, and, much to along Front Street since claim her ham was my delight, the third to of Michael Kerns, and Barbara Kerns, the wife r darling Eliza Jane the people with whom ou and her family reside. soon discover that Cousin Linnaeus would m would find their tiny morsels of THAT ha ! way to our banquet table to welcome Cousin Well, how happy we were t in time to scurry off Linnaeus. He arrived jus s to the tailor shop of with Nicholas and Jame e of our dear friends, John Thompson, where on . Reuben has been Reuben, has been living ompson create his quietly observing Mr. Th many of the citizens custom-made garments for town. Happily, he has of our thriving frontier and pieces of fabric in been able to gather bits op is closed and has the evening when the sh for Nicholas, James constructed wedding suits daughter-in-law, her and Linnaeus. My new s sewn from scraps of mother and I wore gown fabrics that Elizabeth indigo wool, lace and silk 36

Foulk’s traveling dressm aker has left behind. She has been engaged by Elizabeth to sew a fall and winter wardrobe for her and is nearly finished. Knowing that th e air could be a little chill in October, Eliza Ja ne felt that the indigo wool would make a suita ble wedding gown for her special day.

Sophie

“What a journey Linnaeus must have had,” observed Sammy. “Just imagine traveling through and alongside the mountains with scarcely a speck of civilization and cultivation for miles.” “Yes,” Tobias confirmed, “although the roads were rough, there was a well-marked route.” “But surely,” Sammy continued, “Linnaeus must have been so pleased when he finally arrived here.” “I am sure that he was,” Tobias said, “and now let’s look at the entry in which Sophie describes the wedding day. We might have just enough time for you to read it before you go back to your grandmother!”

Dear Journal, This morning, the day dawned with not a cloud in the sky nor any suggestion of rain. We had chosen a beautiful spot along the banks of Decker’s Creek where we have often enjoyed the sound of the crickets on a summer’s eve and the enchanting sight of the fireflies lighting our path as if they were nature’s chandeliers. Today was one of those soft yet joyful days of early autumn that is enveloped in a sweet melancholy and suggests the promise of change. As James and I came upon the scene and I cast my eyes about, I remember breathing a huge sigh of relief. The guests were arriving, dressed in their finest clothes, and were being led to their seats by several of Nicholas and Eliza’s friends. Two old willow trees framed the banquet table and I immediately spied the wedding cake that served as a centerpiece. The table was plentifully spread with the nuts, paw paws, apples and blackberries that we had gathered along the creek and up on Dorsey’s Knob and little did Barbara Kerns suspect that we had also carried off from her garden tender beans, squash and carrots to add to our feast. All of this, together with the tiny bits of ham that had travelled from Williamsburg, provided a savory wedding feast. I quickly greeted Nicholas’ friend, Silas, who was busily serving peach brandy and cider as the guests arrived, and making the syllabubs to later serve as dessert. Silas had volunteered to preside over the drinks as he resides in Rebecca Dering’s tavern and is well versed in the art of serving libations. Early this morning, James, Nicholas and Silas had scurried off to Thomas Laidley’s mercantile shop and returned with a 40

wheelbarrow filled with thimbles that served as drinking vessels. Silas promised to return them and I trust that he has! And now for the bride and groom! The sounds of the occasion will forever whisper in my ears. The soft strains of Cousin Linnaeus’ violin were floating through the air when all of a sudden we heard him shift to a wedding march. All heads turned as Eliza and her father treaded lightly through the grasses and wild flowers to the canopied altar where Nicholas and Charlie were nervously waiting. Eliza’s gown was charming and her wedding bonnet was especially memorable and overflowed with purple asters and flowing vines that her mother had gathered just this morning. As the couple exchanged their vows, with our dear cousin presiding, I was thankful for this joining of family and friends. You know, life here on the frontier can be somewhat lonely so an occasion such as this should be festive and filled with merriment. And festive it was! Our

guests especially enjoyed playing trap ball along the ground and Cousin Linnaeus provided his musical entertainment well into the evening. Do you know, it has been years since James and I have danced a minuet together not to mention the reel that we formed with the others. Why, I even saw several mice from the household of John Protzman dancing a jig.....all in good fun! As the day passed into the evening, there was not a hint of the horrors of a dreadful raid that had taken place on this very spot fifty years earlier when the settlement of the Decker’s and their friends and relatives had been struck by a band of Delaware and Mingo Native Americans. It tears at my heart to contemplate the intersection of these two occasions but I am happy to have taken part in a moment of great joy on this very land. I must say, as evening came and the Hunter’s moon was low on the horizon, James and I sat back and watched our son with his new bride, content in the knowledge that we had raised, along with the help of Charlie, a son who now has a tranquility about him which only an inner peace can bestow. There is one final remembrance of the day that I want to record and that is the toast that Charlie gave to the bride and groom. Just as a gentle breeze had begun to stir, bringing the willows to life, and Cousin Linneaus had ceased playing for a time, Charlie stepped forward to deliver his toast. Charlie’s words were simple yet spellbinding. As he turned toward the happy couple, he commenced his address with a heartfelt salutation: 42

“I salute you both with sincere affection and every sympathy of my heart. All of us who have assembled here bless this day and your union. I have slowly come to embrace the beauty of your relationship and hope that, with these words, I can impart to you the love and joy that we all feel. You, Nicholas, have had the courage to change and have replaced ignorance with wisdom, alienation with friendship and belligerence with kindness and cooperation. You, Eliza Jane, have already given to your new husband the security to discover perhaps the deepest love that he will ever experience. Your gentle nature has already brought grace to his life. You are a gift to each other and I pray that you will always return to those things that are essential. May you both be rich in years, rich in family and tradition and, above all, rich in a love that strengthens as you move through life together. Remember to use your days wisely and always save a part of each day for one another. And, as you sleep tonight, may your dreams be filled with the anticipation of your future life together and may the magic of this day sustain you for years to come.” Stunned by the eloquence of Charlie, there was a momentary pause before the guests rose together and joined in a sincere and extended applause. And so it was, on this October day, as dusk came and the cricket song merged with the bird song, that our Nicholas and his believed Eliza Jane also merged their lives.

Well, dear reader, it has been a long day and James and I feel weary. It is time for us to withdraw to our home under the staircase of the Old Stone House but we will soon be departing. We have found a beautiful patch of land on the banks of Decker’s Creek and have decided to construct a new abode there. We have been considering this move for quite a while and this seems like just the right moment to hand over our home to a new generation. Hopefully we will return often and experience the joy of not only our son and daughter-in-law but also of grandchildren to come.

Sophie 44

Just as Sammy finished reading Sophie’s last entry, he heard a VERY real and very FAMILIAR voice. It was the voice of his Nonny and she was not too happy. He followed her voice as she climbed the staircase just over Tobias’ room and searched in the two bedrooms above for her missing grandson. “Sammy, Sammy,” he heard her shout, “Where are you?”

Sammy could hear her coming back down the stairs and now he could feel his heart pounding....not just little thumps but BIG thumps! His eyes darted from Tobias to the door of Tobias’s room and THEN IT HAPPENED! He could see his Nonny’s legs framed by the doorway, as she continued to call his name, not knowing that her grandson was on the other side of the door. The two friends understood that this was the moment of truth! Sammy would have to reveal Tobias to his grandmother but he was not quite sure how to emerge from under the staircase without startling her. Then, as luck would have it, she moved away from the door and Sammy quickly slipped out. A worried Nonny came face to face with her missing grandson. “Where have you been?” she questioned him, all the while hugging Sammy, thankful that she had finally found him. “Nonny,” Sammy said, “I have someone I’d like you to meet.” 49

At this very moment, Tobias emerged and, looking up at Sammy’s grandmother, politely bowed, and sweetly said: “Allow me to introduce myself, Ma’am. My name is Tobias and I live here in the Old Stone House.”

Both Sammy and Tobias were filled with conflicting emotions. Trembling, Tobias clutched Sammy’s hand, but his anxiety quickly lessened as he saw the expression on Nonny’s face change from fear to amazement and ultimately to relief. The two presented her with Tobias’ family Journal, and after looking through it, she quickly realized what a treasure she was holding. “Nonny,” Sammy said hesitantly, “I would like to come back one more time to visit before my summer vacation is over. Do you think I could spend an entire day here with Tobias?” Nonny, who loved her grandson dearly, could see that he had made a new friend. “Sammy,” she said, “tomorrow I will be spending the entire day here with my friends on the handcraft committee who make so many of the beautiful items we sell in our shop. How would you like me to make lunch for you and Tobias and the two of you can spend another day together?” Elated, the friends agreed Sammy would arrive the following morning by 10:00. With these arrangements made, the two friends said goodbye, happy they would see each other the next day. Sammy awoke early the next morning with the anticipation of seeing his friend for an entire day. He was so relieved that he could share Tobias with his grandmother. Nonny had spent a good deal of time thinking about what to feed a mouse and a young boy 52

and finally decided they might enjoy a green salad filled with plenty of lettuce, carrots, tomatoes, celery, and chunks of cheese. She baked a rather humorous dessert of gingerbread cookies in the shapes of a little boy and a mouse. When Sammy saw the cookies, they reinforced what he already knew. His grandmother was THE BEST! Upon arriving at the Old Stone House, they found Tobias dressed in his very best clothes standing in front of the door to his room. They greeted each other warmly, thanked Nonny for their lunches, and waved goodbye to her as they retreated to Tobias’ home under the staircase. The two friends were ready to delight in reading the rest of the Journal. “Sammy,” Tobias said in an excited voice, “I spent some time last night looking over the rest of the Journal and have marked the entries I think are the most revealing for you to read. Let’s start with this one by Nicholas, which describes the days after his wedding. The entry which follows this one, though, will be sad, but I know you will want to read it.”

The two friends found a cozy spot on the floor and began to read the following entry: Dear Journal,

April 23, 1810

I have not spent the time I should on keeping this Journal up to date, but it is, after all, the first few months of my marriage to Eliza Jane. Our home has become a retreat from the everyday business of life. My darling wife is a skillful housekeeper and has created a home for us of domestic tranquility, filled with grace, merriment, and music. Within the first few weeks we were living here, Eliza Jane asked if I could arrange for her to have a dulcimer. I was able to oblige her and record here what pleasant evenings we have all spent together since the arrival of this beautiful instrument. Picture this, Charlie curled up peacefully on a colorful rag rug as we enjoy the sweet strains of music filling our home. We have to be careful, though, not to disturb the family of Jacob Foulk and enjoy these musical evenings only when they have left the house. At first, I wondered if Eliza Jane would enjoy Charlie’s company, but I should never have doubted her acceptance of my trusted friend and counselor. We three have become inseparable and I believe Charlie even appreciates the decorative changes in our home. My wife continues to delight me with her refined and gentle ways. Not only is she quite the musician, but she also has a passion for flowers. Our room is now decorated with floral wallpaper and, here and 54

there, she has placed fresh and dried flower bouquets on our tables. After our wedding last October, Eliza Jane secretly planted some forget-me-not seeds near Mrs. Foulk’s daffodils in the side yard and now they are providing an eye-catching bloom. My learned wife tells me forget-me-nots symbolize true love and memories and they will be a reminder each spring of our faithful and joyous marriage. She is also quite an accomplished naturalist and spends some evenings, as the shadows lengthen, and our home is lit by candlelight, painting meticulous studies of flowers, plants, and birds. If we are blessed with children, she hopes these paintings will eventually contribute to their delight and instruction and instill in them a wonder of nature. I find my wife charming and thank her daily for the harmonious life she has given Charlie and me.

Nicholas

Dear Journal,

November 26, 1810

Did I say harmonious in my last entry? Things have certainly changed since our children’s birth and a change in ownership of the Old Stone House. Jacob Foulk has recently sold our house to one of his apprentices, John Thompson. Thompson is also a tailor and unknowingly provided the scraps of material that became the wedding suits for Linnaeus, my father and myself a little more than a year ago. With another potter living here, our house continues to be a place of possible danger for our children. My Eliza Jane often finds the children using John Thompson’s pottery tools for their amusement. Matthew, our firstborn, delights in using the roulette wheels to push around like a wheelbarrow, and we often find him playing hide and seek with his sister Katherine in and around the large crocks stored in the cellar. Katherine, who is learning to paint from her mother, is also developing into quite a little artist and enjoys using John Thompson’s slip decorating tools and brushes for her paintings. The two children often escape from their mother’s or my watchful eyes leading to the tragedy I am about to narrate.

Two nights ago, Eliza Jane was playing the dulcimer while I was reading to little Katherine. Charlie was lying on the cellar floor, keeping a watchful eye on Matthew playing, as he often does, with the pottery tools. Suddenly there was a loud crash! It startled all of us and we were so thankful John Thompson and his family had left the house only a few minutes before the crash. I ran for the cellar steps as fast as I could. I rushed down the stairs, and when I entered the cellar, I saw that a shelf of bisque ware had collapsed in a corner, and Charlie was furiously digging away at the broken pottery shards with his paws. I ran to him and just as I got there, I saw Charlie’s right front paw pulling Matthew out from under the collapse. I quickly grabbed our son and moved away from the corner as the clay dust was choking all of us. Just then, I heard the sound of a second crash. I turned and my joy in holding Matthew changed to fear as I saw that another shelf had fallen, and this time it had hit Charlie on his head. By now, Eliza Jane and Katherine had come down to the cellar and upon seeing Charlie, my wife immediately led the children back to the safety of our home. I stayed with Charlie who had been knocked unconscious by the falling shelf. He came to in a short while but, looking at him, I feared the worst. My old and faithful friend looked at me in a way that I had never encountered. He had a sense of resignation in 57

his eyes. Not wanting to tell me how badly he was hurt, he told me he was just tired and wanted to rest. Charlie put out his paw and closed his eyes. I tenderly held it and stayed with him throughout the night. After Eliza Jane put the children to bed, she returned to the cellar and, seeing the two of us, silently understood the situation. Charlie died peacefully during the night. Although I was heartbroken at the passing of my dearest friend and mentor, Eliza Jane reminded me of all the wonderful times we had shared and how much his friendship had taught me. Although I may not have told him in so many words, knowing Charlie has made me a more understanding and compassionate mouse. As the coral light of dawn shown through the cellar window, I ventured up to our room under the stairs and gazed at my children sleeping so peacefully. I knew how difficult a day this would be for them and anxiously began forming my thoughts on how I would talk to them about Charlie’s death. They had never known a day without their beloved friend, so this would be the beginning of a new era for all of us. When they awoke, Eliza Jane and I held them close to us and gently broke the news. We all sobbed, but when Matthew ran to a corner of the room, I followed him, knowing he could be feeling particularly sad and perhaps even guilty. He was whimpering in the most heartbreaking fashion. “If I had not gone downstairs to play, would Charlie still be with us?” he asked. I reassured him, giving him many hugs and kisses and explained this was merely an 58

accident, one that could have happened at any time when shelves are so heavily packed with pottery ware. Later in the day, we noticed John Thompson had discovered Charlie’s body. He placed it in a burlap sack and we all watched silently from the thickets as he dug a grave in our side yard and buried our friend. Matthew and Katherine asked if Charlie would ever come back and Eliza Jane replied, “My darlings, when God’s creatures die, they do not ever physically come back to us. They will, however, live on in our memories and our hearts.” The children seemed to understand and asked if they could tell their grandparents about Charlie’s death. We quietly walked them over to Eliza Jane’s parents at Kern’s Mill and then sadly made our way further down Decker’s Creek to break the news to my parents, James and Sophie. After their initial shock, for they too had known and loved Charlie and recalled his toast for us at our wedding, my father suggested we find some scraps of wood at the shop of our carriage maker, John Shisler, to fashion a marker for Charlie’s grave. So we set off to his shop by the river on lower Pleasant Street and selected just the right scraps for our purpose. We carried them back to the Old Stone House and placed a marker next to Charlie’s grave. Dear Journal, I am quite exhausted by the events of this past evening and day and now feel this is all I can write about this saddest of episodes. I promise to pick up my quill very soon, but for now, I leave you to imagine my family in grief.

Nicholas

It took Sammy several minutes to compose himself after reading about Charlie’s death. What had merely been a name in an old journal had sprung to life in Sammy’s heart and he felt that he, too, had lost an exceptional friend. “Tobias,” Sammy whispered, “I had not expected to start the day in such a somber way. It’s strange how even I had grown to treasure dear Charlie.” “Sammy,” Tobias countered, “let’s stop now and have our lunch. I promise you when we take up the Journal again this afternoon, you will be relieved to read their lives became cheerful once more.” As the pair were enjoying their salads, Sammy finally broke the silence. “Tobias,” he said, “you and your ancestors are lucky to call the Old Stone House your home. Just imagine! These walls have witnessed so many important events in the history of our town.” Tobias replied, “It’s true, Sammy, but guess what I am imagining right now...the taste of those cookies your grandmother has baked for us!” Sammy giggled as they devoured their cookies and when they had finished the entire batch, as boys and mice often do, they returned to the Journal.

Dear Journal,

October 5, 1813

It has been several years since I gave a full accounting of my family. It is in part due to the war that so many of the young men from our county have entered. I had heard the people here discussing issues, which finally resulted in Congress declaring war on Great Britain this past June. Many of our well-known and respected young men joined the three companies of volunteers from our region to battle the British. Listening to the many conversations about our engagement in the war has sapped all of my energy, and thus, it is only now I feel I can come back to delving into my own matters of heart and hearth. After war was declared, Eliza Jane, the children, and I spent many moments hidden in the bushes on Spruce Street, watching the muster day drills. We were always quite proud when we caught a glimpse of young Zackquill Morgan, the son of our town founder, drilling his men and readying them for skirmishes and battles. As I write in this Journal tonight, the war continues with no end in sight, but we hear that our men are performing bravely. Here in our home, my family has regained the tranquility and happiness we once felt before Charlie’s death. We are all experiencing a new beginning. Even the house is undergoing a newfound sense of peace. In June, John Thompson sold our stone house to the Reverend Joseph Shackelford. Eliza Jane and I are quite relieved our children will now be exposed to such a learned 61

man’s reverent ways. He and his wife bring to our home an air of refinement and we now hear the family reading and studying passages from their Bible in the evenings. We often hear Reverend Shackelford addressing his two daughters as “his own special treasures” as he encourages them to live lives of integrity and goodness. All of this is providing a respite from the war. My Eliza Jane appreciates all the lovely changes Mrs. Shackelford has made to the house. The Reverend Shackelford is also a tanner and purchased the lot next to our house for his tannery. But oh! Forgive me! I have omitted our family news! We have been blessed with the birth of another daughter, Molly, and now our family numbers five: Matthew, our firstborn, Katherine, Molly, Eliza Jane, and myself. Matthew is growing to be an exceptional youngster and Katherine has surprised us all with her keen interest in scholarly learning. Why the other day, she asked us if we would allow her to spend a part of each day at the schoolhouse at the top of North Boundry and Spruce Streets. At first, Eliza Jane and I said no, feeling this was too far a walk for a mouse of her age. But, after much pleading, we have relented. I have even been able to secure some scraps of leather from the tannery next door and have fashioned for my bright young daughter her very own book satchel!

Nicholas 62

When Sammy finished reading Nicholas’ entry, he looked up at Tobias and, with a twinkle in his eyes, said, “What a sight it must have been to see Katherine making her way toward the Academy!” “Yes, Sammy,” Tobias added, “I bet she was quite a spunky creature! Don’t you think her parents were wise to realize their daughter needed the additional stimulation from the teachers at the Academy? Nicholas and Eliza Jane gave her a precious gift, as difficult as it might have been for them. They gave her the independence to continue her studies.” Sammy was quiet for a time and then added he hoped to read more about Katherine. “I wonder,” Sammy reflected aloud, “ if we will ever learn how she was able to use her studies?” “Well, Sammy,” Tobias replied, “let’s skip through the Journal. I know there is an entry where Katherine relates how very drastically her life changed.”

Dear Journal,

August 29, 1830

What a night Molly and I have had! We were awakened about three o’clock in the morning by the smoke of a horrible fire only to discover that it was coming from the potter’s kiln site across the street from our home. The Shackelfords were quite alarmed! We heard them rushing down the narrow staircase over our room and straight out the front door to observe the scene. We were not far behind. I heard Mr. Shackelford shout out that he hoped that the kiln could be saved, but it was not. All was lost in the fire and the potters will soon be searching for another site. Changes have been afoot for the Shackelfords, too. They have faced some troubling times; Mrs. Shackelford passed away seven years ago, and this past winter brought another unexpected change to Mr. Shackelford. In February, he entertained the Reverend Cornelius Springer and Dr. George Brown right here in our keeping room. Molly and I were so excited to see the Shackelford daughters getting the house ready for these guests. The odors from their baking were all that we tiny mice could bear! Molly heard Mr. Shackelford remark to his two daughters that he was going to display their counted crossstitch needle art on a shelf next to the hearth. These images, as well as their mother’s lovely paintings of plants, flowers and birds brightened even the darkest wintry day. The grass may have withered and the flowers may have vanished but on that February 64

day, our home was as resplendent as a bright spring afternoon. The two men who arrived were ministers of the Methodist Protestant Church, a reformed group of Methodists separated from the Methodist Episcopal Church just two years ago. Reverend Shackelford was a minister of the Methodist Episcopal Church and had been preaching and performing weddings in our house for many years. When the elders of his church learned he had entertained Reverend Springer and Dr. Brown, they expelled our wonderful Reverend Shackelford from the Methodist Episcopal Church. Our house has now become the site of the first Methodist Protestant services in Morgantown and the congregation is hoping to eventually build a church. The men and women who come to our house are of such high moral character and Reverend Shackelford’s sermons are so rewarding that Molly and I always enjoy listening from the recesses of our room. You can guess how happy we are to see the group leave as this is when we quietly emerge from under the staircase in high hopes of snatching a morsel or two of fine delicacies! But now, let me record what has happened to our family. You may have noticed it is I, Katherine, who is presently writing in our family Journal. Molly and I are alone in the house. Our parents no longer live here. There came a time when my mother felt she needed to spend more time helping her aging parents, so she and my father now live close to our grandparents on Mr. Kern’s property. Matthew, who always sought new adventures, found an opportunity several years ago when Samuel Butters, 65

an accomplished potter from Clarksburg, drove his wagon to town to pick up some pottery tools from John Thompson. Our brother stowed away on Butters’ wagon and is now living in his pottery shop. Molly and I continue to study. We have found a cozy spot in the rafters of the Monongalia Academy, where we observe the classes. We can’t wait for their new building to be finished at the corner of Spruce and Walnut Streets. Molly and I have an exciting plan, but I will save that for another day. The amber light of dusk is descending on our town and it is becoming rather difficult for me to write with ease in this Journal. Good night, dear reader. The next time I take up my quill, Molly and I will be engaged in our own adventure.

Katherine

“Tobias,” Sammy questioned, “I wonder what plan Katherine and Molly were concocting? I think they were very brave living here by themselves and scurrying back and forth to the Academy.” “I agree,” Tobias answered. “I must admit I am quite proud of my ancestors. Maybe their strong characters made me brave enough to form a friendship with a special human like you.” Sammy smiled at Tobias, who made a little bow to his amazing friend, Sammy. “My friend,” Sammy asked, “did Katherine ever disclose the plan she and Molly envisioned?” “She did,” replied Tobias, “I only have to turn the page.”

Dear Journal,

September 17, 1831

Molly and I have been hard at work on the MOST WONDERFUL idea! As you might have understood from my previous entry, we are rather studious mice and have been blessed with two families that understand the value of a good education. Living in the Shackelford household has enhanced the learning that our parents offered us at a very early age. When we were younger, our mother filled our hornbooks with lessons of the alphabet and numbers and from her we learned so many of the Greek and Roman fables. We spent many cozy evenings here under the stairs at her side as she instructed us. The Reverend and Mrs. Shackelford added even more to our instruction without knowing it! As Elizabeth Shackelford taught her daughters about the various stitches that are needed to create the fine samplers that adorn our walls, Molly and I carefully listened to her instructions. Why at the moment each of us is making a counted cross-stitch sampler with the first line from Psalm 23 surrounded by of a flock of sheep. This Psalm, we have come to understand, is a favorite of Reverend Shackelford. We enjoy listening to him each evening as he reads aloud from the family Bible or from Pilgrim’s Progress. He continues to instill in his daughters values of compassion, kindness and generosity and hopes that they will always be motivated to do good.

As our town is developing, it is gaining a reputation as a seat of learning. We have long had a fine academy dedicated to the education of young men and, it is in this school that Molly and I have expanded our knowledge. From our seats in the rafters, we have been exposed to many new subjects. Imagine how happy we have been to learn Latin and French! Apart from arithmetic and English grammar, Molly quite enjoys geography. I think she has been influenced by a friend who lives in the household of Samuel Hanway out at Glade Run. Samuel has been surveying our county for years and Molly’s friend, a fearless mouse named Stephen, has begun to learn this discipline and is now encouraging Molly in her studies. I am a bit jealous as I watch these two affectionate mice, for I have not found one single mouse to my liking! I wonder if I am just too particular. How many mice enjoy speaking French? I now pride myself on my knowledge of this beautiful language. Perhaps I should listen more closely to Reverend Shackelford and learn to be less prideful! But isn’t life so full of surprises? Molly has a beau and I do not. There are two other surprises worth mentioning. First, of all the good fortune, our town is forming an academy solely for women’s education, and Reverend Shackelford has been asked to be a trustee of this school. Now here is our other surprise. Molly and I have decided to open a school for young female mice right here in the attic of our house. It is going to be just “formidable,” as the French say.

There are two large windows in the third-floor attic of our house that overlook the river and a part of Decker’s Creek and it is in this well-lit space that we hope to add to the educational opportunities for our mice community. Can you hear the recitation of French verbs? We hope to establish a first-rate institution right here in this house. Wish us luck, dear reader!

Katherine

Stitched by Mary Behling

After reading this last entry, Sammy was deep in reflection. “Tobias,” he said, “what a wonderful mission Katherine and Molly had. I wonder, though, how long they were able to continue holding their school in the attic?” Tobias knew the answer and quickly replied: “Sammy, I have read in Molly’s entries that the school came to an abrupt end the day a studious mouse was discovered passing through the keeping room on her way up to the attic. Molly records that there was a great deal of commotion as Mr. Shackelford’s daughter shouted out...’Oh you nasty mouse!’ She called out to her father to come help her find this errant creature, but happily for the terrified mouse, she escaped just in the nick of time. It was clear however to Molly and Katherine that they needed to find a more suitable location for their school and this was when they decided to move their school to the basement of the Morgantown Female Academy as soon as its new building was completed. As they say, the Academy became a full-service institution, serving the educational needs of both mice and women.” “How fortunate,” Sammy said anxiously, “but now it is almost time for Nonny and her friends to be finished with their projects. Do you think that we will have time to read the rest of the entries? I am wondering if your family was affected by the Civil War? I have been studying this War and West Virginia 71

history in school and earlier this week my grandfather took me on a walk through Oak Grove Cemetery to visit the grave of Waitman T. Willey who I know was one of the founders of the State of West Virginia in 1863. My grandfather also pointed out to me the grave of a Union soldier who was killed during the Confederate raid on Morgantown. Is there an entry about this raid, and was the Shackelford family still living in the house at that time?” Tobias replied that Katherine had written in the Journal about the death of Reverend Shackelford on January 2, 1840, and that the house once again had new owners. “Sammy,” he said, “I would like you to read about the bravery of my ancestors during that raid. Wait ‘til you read of their imaginative contribution when the Confederates came to town.” Tobias leafed through the Journal until he found the entry of April 30, 1863, which was written by Molly and Stephen’s son, John.

April 30, 1863 Dear Journal, My wife, Stephanie, and I have survived a terrifying ordeal in our town. Three days ago, part of the Confederate army came to Morgantown, causing a great commotion. It was Court Day here and many people were gathered in the Court House square waiting for the opening of the spring session. Even one of our most distinguished citizens, Waitman T. Willey, was here. It was like a festival in town. Flags were flying from the shops, vendors were selling food and drink from their wagons, and the great bell of the courthouse was ringing. Rumors had begun to reach us that part of the Confederate army led by Brigadier General William Ezra (“Grumble”) Jones was in the area. I scurried to the square and, upon learning the rebels were on their way, quickly made my way back to our home. We were concerned for our safety and that of Henry Coombs who was living in our beautiful stone house. We knew the invading soldiers would be looking for food supplies and especially for horses and cattle. However, as it did not seem to us that Henry was preparing to hide his provisions from the rebels, we took matters into our own hands. Stephanie and I decided to scamper around the house near where the food was stored. When we were seen, he became irate and screamed that he would have to protect his food more carefully from these pesky mice! He moved the provisions to a hidden location behind the cistern in the basement. Hours later, when two 73

Confederates searched our house for food, they could not find provisions anywhere, and so, unbeknownst to Henry Coombs, we had helped save the day! The Confederates tore down the Union flags, dragged them through the streets, and raised their Confederate flag over the courthouse. When we ventured outside the next day, we could see the Confederate soldiers riding down Walnut Street toward the suspension bridge that leads to the western banks of the Monongahela River. The rebel cavalry had a very difficult time crossing over the bridge on their way out of town with the horses and supplies they captured, but they eventually reached the other side. We later learned that many townsfolk, including Waitman T. Willey, had fled to safety. This was the only time the Civil War touched our town. I felt a quiet satisfaction that we mice had contributed to the welfare of Mr. Coombs who never knew how we had helped him save his provisions during the Confederate raid.

John

Tobias looked up at Sammy, “My ancestors understood how valuable it is to record one’s history and thoughts in a journal. They were always known for their interest in a good education and encouraged their children to enjoy all of the arts as we have read in these entries. Through these pages, my ancestors have given us remarkable insights into the history of our town as well as an understanding of my family.” “Tobias,” Sammy queried, “do you know how your ancestors fared in later generations?” “Of course,” Tobias proudly replied. “When Stewart Hall was built on the campus of West Virginia University, my ancestors were immortalized by being shown peering out from the acanthus leaves in the capitals atop the columns in the rotunda on the first floor.” “WOW!” exclaimed Sammy. “That is impressive! My grandmother told me that Stewart Hall was originally a library. How fitting it must be to see your ancestors there! Now that is a proper ending to the story!” Tobias smiled a hundred-watt smile and Sammy could see the contentment on his friend’s face. All those years of education, starting way back with Charlie were set in stone in the former library of a distinguished place of higher education! As the afternoon was beginning to draw to a close, the moment of saying goodbye was fast approaching. Sammy had come to spend a part of his summer 75

vacation with his grandparents, but now he was leaving with an added blessing, that of an unexpected friendship. Saying goodbye is never easy. How DO you say goodbye to such a gift of friendship? The thought that helped them both through this moment was the knowledge that Sammy would be visiting his grandparents during the holidays and he would most certainly be returning to the Old Stone House with his grandmother. For now, the soft afternoon beckoned the pair outside. Sammy could not leave the house without walking into the yard with Tobias. Any indication of Charlie’s gravesite had been lost over these many years, but as the yard was small and the forget-me-nots had spread throughout the yard, the spirit of Charlie was before them. Once again, thoughts of the adventures of Charlie and Nicholas warmed their hearts. They recalled the eloquence of his wedding toast to Nicholas and Eliza Jane and had themselves been comforted by his gracious words. Sammy broke the silence of the moment with one final reflection. “Gee, Tobias,” he said, “even though I have studied some West Virginia history, your Journal has made this history come alive in a way I could never have imagined. I have walked these streets with my grandparents many times, but now I understand how the streets and buildings of today are quiet witnesses to so much history.” At this point, Sammy came to a 76

deeper understanding of that old pine chair Nonny called her “memory chair” in his grandparents’ kitchen. Tobias and Sammy went back into the house just as Nonny approached the door under the stairs. Seeing her, the two friends hugged each other and said goodbye, secure in the knowledge they would be together again in just a few months. They knew that whatever distance separated them, their hearts would forever be entwined. Several months passed. The seasons changed from summer to fall, from fall to early winter. Tobias’ excitement grew as he saw the Old Stone House beginning to be transformed into a magical fairyland of color, sounds, and smells. The handcraft committee had been working for months, creating lovely and tasteful gifts. The buyers had made careful choices and now the shop was coming together through the work of many dedicated ladies. Nonny, who was helping with this transformation, knocked one afternoon on Tobias’ door to say that Sammy and his family would be coming soon to celebrate the holidays. Tobias was thrilled to learn that his long wait was almost over and that he would soon be able to present to his friend a most cherished gift. Since this summer, Tobias had 77

felt a new sense of contentment living in the Old Stone House, and shortly after Sammy left, he had resolved to give his friend a most meaningful gift upon his return. The day of Sammy’s arrival finally came. As he and Nonny opened the door to this holiday wonderland, he recognized the smell of the delicious tea he had encountered many months ago when Tobias had first invited him into his room. “That tea,” he mused, “whenever I smell that aroma, I will always be reminded of this house and my friend who lives here.” Despite the enticing sight he beheld, Sammy immediately turned to his left and was thrilled to see his friend emerging from his room beneath the stairs. “Tobias,” Sammy exclaimed, “it’s so great to see you again!” “Sammy,” Tobias replied, “I have been waiting for months for this moment.” The two friends embraced and were soon caught up in the stories of each other’s activities since last summer. When Tobias felt the time was right, he returned holding the Journal and, after shaking Sammy’s hand, presented it to him. “I want you to have this,” Tobias said. “It is yours now to protect and keep. I know you cherish the lives recorded here and you will continue to share the stories of Tobias, the Mouse in the Old Stone House.” 78

As the smiles on their faces acknowledged, the joy and understanding of a deep friendship would be with Tobias and Sammy for years to come. 79

The World of Tobias’ Ancestors (Names in parentheses indicate owners of shops in early Morgantown)

ALBERT GALLATIN: Albert Gallatin (1761-1849) was the 4th Secretary of the Treasury, serving under Presidents Jefferson and Madison. While holding this office, he was instrumental in the Louisiana Purchase, funded the Lewis and Clark Expedition and the War of 1812. Near his home in Fayette County, Pennsylvania, which he named Friendship Hill, he built an early American glass works. APPALACHIAN DULCIMER: also known as a lap dulcimer or hog fiddle, it can have 4-5 strings and is strummed on your lap. Early Scotch-Irish immigrants brought them to Appalachia as early as the eighteenth century; they were made out of gourds or hollowed logs. BREWERY: a place where beers and ales are made. (Hugh McNeely) CARRIAGE SHOP: a place where two or four wheeled passenger vehicles were built. These were usually pulled by horses and included coaches and wagons. (John Shisler) CISTERN: also known as a well. At the Old Stone House there was a cistern in the cellar, which can still be seen today. COBBLER: a person who made and repaired shoes and boots. (John Protzman) CONESTOGA WAGON: a covered wagon with slightly curved sides developed circa 1725 in the Conestoga region of Pennsylvania. It was used to transport families and goods 80

primarily in Pennsylvania, Ohio, Maryland and Virginia. A feed box for animals, tool chest and water barrel were mounted on its sides. It was usually drawn by six horses and had wheels that rose six feet high. FLATBOAT: a boat with a flat bottom for use in shallow water or on a river. These boats carried freight and usually travelled one way. When they reached their destination, they were dismantled and sold for lumber. (Michael Kerns) GRISTMILL: a machine that ground grain. The gristmill typically ground the customer’s own grain. (Michael Kerns) HOPKINSON, FRANCIS: Francis Hopkinson (1737-1791) was America’s first composer of secular music. HORNBOOK: a special kind of schoolbook that was a piece of wood covered on each side with a printed page which was protected by a thin sheet of horn. INDIGO: a violet-blue color of dye obtained from the indigo plant. In the colonies, it was developed in South Carolina in the eighteenth century and was an important cash crop. KEEPING ROOM: a room which was “kept” warm and cozy by a fireplace. The family cooked, ate and worked in this room. LIMNER PAINTER: A painter who traveled from place to place in Colonial days and later in search of commissions to paint portraits or signs. MERCANTILE SHOP: a general store where one could purchase groceries, rugs, linens, nails, sewing supplies and kitchen wares, among other things. In Morgan’s Town, the first mercantile shop was opened in 1783. (Thomas Laidley) 81

PENMANSHIP: Colonial children practiced their letters in a booklet of blank pages called a copybook and wrote with a quill pen dipped in ink. THE POUND: In the Colonial era, the British monetary system included pounds, shillings and pence. Henry Dering paid 30 pounds to Jacob Nuze for the purchase of the Old Stone House on January 28, 1795. PILGRIM’S PROGRESS: a novel by John Bunyon, first published in 1687, which chronicles a man named Christian and his journey toward heaven and the many distractions that he encounters along the way. This book was widely read in the American colonies and certainly would have been known by the Reverend Shackelford. POTTER: a person who makes many types of pottery including crocks, pitchers and jars among others. Jacob Foulk and John Thompson were two Morgantown potters who lived in the Old Stone House and were among the first to establish potteries west of the Allegheny Mountains. Together these two men, and eventually Thompson’s brother and sons, would leave a significant mark on American pottery history. Many of their pottery tools and pots are found in the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, DC. Among the technical terms used here are earthenware (slightly porous and coarser than the later stoneware, which was more refined), bisque ware (pots that have been fired once and will be fired again), slip (a mixture of water and clay often used to decorate pots), and roulette wheel (a potter’s tool used to create designs in the clay when rolled over the surface). QUEEN’S WARE: usually imported, a cream-colored table ware that is more refined and sophisticated than earthenware pottery. Typically, Queen’s ware is decorated with scenes of 82

the countryside or town and show an arrangement of trees, buildings, mountains, animals, people and rivers. QUEEN’S CAKE: also known as Fairy cakes. Dating from the 18th century in England, they are little cakes whose batter included butter, sugar, eggs, flour and currants, according to Robert Smith in his cookbook of 1724 entitled The Compleat English Cook. REEL AND JIG: The reel is a spirited country dance for couples. The jig is a lively folk dance. SAMPLERS: educated young girls in America learned to make samplers which usually featured the alphabet, numbers and a small picture done in either cross stitch or embroidery. SCHOOLING FOR AFRICAN AMERICANS: In Virginia, it was illegal for slaves to be educated. In Morgantown Frederick Augustus Dering, who was born in 1802 in the Old Stone House, taught school to slaves in the Monongalia Academy. By this action, he could have been jailed. SLAVERY: It is known that Rebecca Dering had a female slave named Sawney and two male slaves, Henry and Tim. In her will of 1844 she made provision for the freedom of Henry two years after her death and of Tim at the age of 21. STEWART HALL: Built between 1900 and 1902 in the Romanesque Revival style, it originally housed the library on the campus of West Virginia University. The dominant feature of the interior is a two-story, central arcaded rotunda. Plaster acanthus leaves articulate the capitals of the four columns on the outer corners of the rotunda. Peering out from these leaves are finely crafted mice.

SYLLABUB: a dessert drink made of wine, sherry, lemon and whipped cream TAILOR: In Colonial America, a tailor made clothing for men and women. All tailors sewed their garments by hand. (John Thompson) TANNER: a person who made leather from animal hides (John Stealy, Joseph Shackelford) TAVERNS: Taverns in Colonial America served as local gathering places where people met to discuss the news of the day, conduct business and chat over drinks and meals. They often provided lodging for guests as well. The state of Virginia required tavern keepers to apply for annual licenses. (Fauquir McRa, Zackquill Morgan, Henry Dering) TRAP BALL: a popular game in Colonial America which is the ancestor of baseball. It is played with a stick and a leather ball. WHARF: a docking area for small boats. A wharf is a substantial structure that projects into or runs alongside a body of water for the purpose of loading and unloading vessels such as the flatboats that docked here in Morgantown. The wharf was located at the foot of Walnut Street. WILLEY, WAITMAN T: Willey was one of the most distinguished citizens of 19th century Morgantown. He was elected one of the first United States Senators from the newly formed state of West Virginia in 1863. WILLIAMSBURG: the capital of the Virginia Colony in 1699 and remained so until 1781. During its time as capital, it flourished as the center of economic, social, educational and religious life in Virginia. Bruton Parish Church, established in 1674, is located in Colonial Williamsburg. The church was built between 1711-1715. 84

Morgantown Pottery and Tools in the Smithsonian Institution Below are examples of the tools and pottery that were collected at the turn of the twentieth century by Morgantown archeologist Dr. Walter Hough, who worked at the Smithsonian Institution. He excavated the basement and surrounding area of the Old Stone House. The initialed rib is from the Thompson family of potters. Additions to the Smithsonian collection were also made by Dorcas Thompson Haymond, the daughter of John Thompson.

Acknowledgments I could not have completed this tale without the help and support of countless people, especially Diana Claydon, who guided this project from its inception. Diana’s discerning editorial comments clarified the text throughout. I am also deeply grateful to Drs. David and Ann Wilkins, Dr. Laura McLaughlin, Dr. Joe and Carol Baim, Roger and Charlotte Dalton, Laura Savio, Joan Bissett, Joann King, Connie Erenrich, Mary Behling, Elaine Burrell, Susan Dotson, Barbara and Michael Brown, Margaret Matthews, Audrey Schwab, Susan Kerestzury, Joyce Lang, Judy Kelly Minor, Dr. Barbara Howe, Stewart Plein, Pam Ball, Kathy Hanko and Sue Carpenter each of whom contributed their professional expertise and added editorial comments and historical clarity to the tale. To recreate the world in which Tobias’ ancestors live, I am indebted to the scholarly works written by Earl Core, Charles Ambler, Samuel Wiley, James Callahan, Connie Rice, Norma Venable, Dr. Barbara Rasmussen, Dr. Walter Hough, Richard Duez, Don Horvath and Ron Chrislip. Previous histories of the Old Stone House were invaluable to me and I especially recognize the work of Iris Smith, Leoan Crowe, Anita Ball and Judie Dinsmore, author of the Bicentennial History of the Old Stone House. Bonnie Campbell Lilienfeld, Director of Curatorial Affairs at the National Museum of American History, Smithsonian Institution, graciously shared her professional knowledge and allowed me access to the museum storage rooms. William Kawecki kindly wrote an endorsement of this tale. I owe a special debt of gratitude to my daughters, Sara Rutledge and Stephanie Orloski, who provided their professional knowledge and unflagging technical support. My grandchildren Matt, Allie, Kate, Stephen and Molly have provided perceptive insights into the inventive minds of children. My sisters, Millie Ryan and Suzy Bock, have listened 86

patiently for years to my tales of Tobias, as did my sons-in-law Doug Rutledge and Steve Orloski, and my cousin Ann Pinna. My interest in local history was fueled by Ann Selinger, Jane Labys and Dr. Jack and Alice Frost whose memories and friendship are always with me. I am especially grateful to Ashley Teets, who illustrated my first book, The Headline Kids Book Group who illustrated this book, and to publisher Cathy Teets, President of Headline Books. Finally, for more than 35 years, I have relied on the counsel and love of my dear husband Bernie Schultz who took on the voices of all of the characters and, most especially, of a curious cat named Charlie.

Mary Louise “Cookie” Soldo Schultz, recently retired from the Honors College at West Virginia University, has enjoyed more than a forty-year career in primary, secondary, and higher education. She is the recipient of numerous teaching awards and has received prestigious grants, including fellowships from the National Endowment for the Humanities, the West Virginia Humanities Council and a Quarry Farm Fellowship from the Center for Mark Twain Studies at Elmira College. Cookie holds undergraduate and graduate degrees in French Language and Literature and Art History. Her publications include a chapter entitled “Studies in France” in Blanche Lazzell: The Life and Work of an American Modernist (2004), the essay on Blanche Lazzell in the West Virginia Encyclopedia (2006) and a children’s book entitled Tobias: The Mouse in the Old Stone House (2015) which is the first in this series and has received an honorable mention in the London Book Festival and a Mom’s Choice Gold Award. She coauthored, with her husband Bernie, the Instructor’s Manual for the sixth edition of H.W. Janson’s History of Art (2001) and a chapter entitled “Cass Gilbert and the Classical Tradition” in Cass Gilbert’s West Virginia State Capitol (2014). Cookie authored the essay on Blanche Lazzell in Central to Their Lives: Southern Women Artists in the Johnson Collection (2018). Her most recent activity is the cocreation of a podcast on a canto from Dante’s Divine Comedy for the Dante Society of America (2020). Cookie lives in Morgantown with her husband. 88

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Mary Louise “Cookie” Soldo Schultz

Tobias: Tales from the Past at the Old Stone House

Mary Louise “Cookie” Soldo Schultz