VERITAS
By Deborah Grant
January 2003
Chapter 1
The small group of passengers gathered
on the deck of the clipper, Surprise, to watch the
approaching harbor while the cries of the gulls circling overhead
mixed with the orders being barked at the crew. One middle-aged
man turned to the youth standing next to him. “That’s Boston
Harbor. Won’t be too much longer before I’ll be home with my
family and you’ll be on the road to Harvard College.”
“I can’t wait. I’ll bet you can’t either,”
the boy, who was tall and slim with curly black hair and the
long, slender legs of a colt, replied with a grin. He gazed
at the activity going on at the fast approaching harbor. “It’s
been fifteen years since I was last in Boston.”
“You never mentioned you’d been here before,”
the other man remarked in surprise.
“I guess I didn’t,” the younger man said with
a shrug. “I was born here and I lived here until I was
between two and three. My mother’s father still lives here.
He’s going to meet me when we dock. I’m looking forward to
seeing him again as much as I am attending Harvard.”
The dock was crowded with people, mostly sailors
and longshoremen. The tall, dark-haired young man looked
around trying to spot anyone who might be his grandfather.
Suddenly he heard, “Adam Cartwright?” spoken in a deep, gruff
voice and spun around to face a portly man with a neatly trimmed
white beard.
“Grandfather,” he queried uncertainly.
“Aye, Adam, I’m your grandfather. It’s
good to see you again, lad.” Adam held out his hand but
Captain Stoddard took it and pulled him into a hug. Then
he stepped back and asked briskly, “Are those two valises all
your luggage?” Adam nodded, picking up the valises, so the
Captain added, “Right now we need to get you on your way to Cambridge.”
Adam followed Captain Stoddard, who effortlessly
threaded his way through the beehive of activity on the dock,
to the cab waiting to drive them across the Charles River to Cambridge.
As they rode along, Adam noticed his grandfather couldn’t seem to
keep his eyes off him. Captain Stoddard suddenly realized
he was making Adam uncomfortable and said apologetically, “I’m sorry
for staring, but I’d forgotten how much you resemble your mother.
I’m pleased that you’ve your father’s height however.”
“My mother was small?” Adam asked arching one
eyebrow quizzically.
“She was a tiny little thing,” Captain Stoddard
answered wistfully, “just like her mother. I remember she
didn’t stand any higher than your father’s shoulder. She
never let her lack of inches stop her from speaking her mind though,”
the Captain said with a fond smile. He shook himself out of
his reverie and said seriously, “I am glad you were still able to
come after your family’s tragedy.”
“Pa insisted,” Adam replied in a flat voice.
“Marie wanted me to attend college and he wanted to make sure
her wish came true. It was really hard on Joe though.
I think he’s afraid that I am going away forever just like his
mother. I tried to explain and so did Pa, but he’s just
too young to understand. Hoss didn’t cry in front of me,
but I know he’s not happy about me going either.”
“I know from your letters that the three of
you are very close,” the Captain said slowly.
“Yeah. I’m going to really miss them,
but I promised that I’d write often and they said they’d write
me.” He smiled a little. “Hoss hates to write so
I don’t know how many letters I’ll get from him, and Joe’s just
learning to write so he’ll have to have help from Pa.”
“Your father is an excellent correspondent
so I can assure you that you’ll be receiving plenty of letters
from him,” the Captain said encouragingly. “You didn’t
mention it, but have you decided what you intend to study?”
“Yes, I have,” Adam replied. “I’ve been
accepted at the Lawrence Scientific School. It’s the newest
professional school at the college. I considered the Medical
School and Paul Martin, our doctor, recommended it; but I don’t
think I have the temperament to be a physician.”
“Did you consider the Law School?” the Captain
queried, feigning disinterest.
“Not seriously. My two passions are mathematics
and understanding how things work so I am confident that I made
the right choice.”
“It’s your decision,” the Captain agreed although
privately he was disappointed that Adam had no interest in pursuing
a career in law, which was often a steppingstone into a career
in government. “Now, you know where you’ll be staying, correct?”
“Yes, sir. The college wrote me,” and
he pulled out an envelope stamped with Harvard’s seal—a shield
with the Latin motto, Veritas , written on three books,
“that I would live at Massachusetts Hall. My tutor told me
what he knew about Harvard. He said it was designed to be
like Oxford and Cambridge in England. Two students share a suite
of bedroom and study, and the suites open onto long hallways.
Students eat their meals at the Commons.”
The Captain nodded and then said, “Your father
had already sent me money and had me open a bank account for
you in Cambridge long before you sailed, so that is taken care
of.” He smiled tentatively and then said, “I know you’ll
be busy settling in, but I hope you can visit me this weekend.”
Adam shyly returned his grandfather’s smile.
“I would love to, Grandfather.” He paused and then said
hesitantly, “I’d like to talk with you about my mother if I may.
It still hurts Pa to speak about her, so I don’t ask, but I’d really
like to know more about her.”
“You can talk with me, Adam,” the Captain replied,
blinking back the moisture in his eyes. “Talking about
her makes her come alive for me.”
Adam arrived at Harvard College with his two
large valises in hand. He took in the red brick buildings
that formed a quadrangle. But which was Massachusetts Hall?
He saw another young man walking by so he said loudly, “Excuse
me.”
The other young man stopped and asked, “Yes?”
in a brusque tone.
“Could you tell me which building is Massachusetts
Hall?” Adam asked diffidently.
The other student took in the valises in each
of Adam’s hands, his too-long hair curling over his collar, and
his unfamiliar accent. “Freshman, huh?” he said in a condescending
tone. “You’re rather late.”
“I know,” Adam replied evenly. “My ship
didn’t arrive in Boston until this morning.”
The other raised his eyebrows at that but pointed
and said, “That’s Massachusetts Hall. If I were you, I’d
hurry.”
Adam set off with long strides in the direction
indicated. He had to endure a lecture on his late arrival
but eventually he was told his room number. He hurried up
the stairs and walked down the long corridor carefully reading the
numbers on the doors. Finally, he saw the door he was looking
for. It was closed so he set down one valise and knocked lightly.
“Come in,” said a slightly nasal voice.
He opened the door, picked up his other valise, and stepped inside.
The small room had two desks and chairs and
each desk had a lamp. Sitting at one of the desks was an
extremely thin young man Adam’s age with mousy brown hair parted
down the middle, large amber eyes under heavy brows, and a beak
of a nose. His face reminded Adam of a raptor’s.
“Hello,” Adam said warily. “I’m your
roommate, Adam Cartwright.”
“Aaron Wharton,” the other young man said standing
up and holding out his head. “I was beginning to think
you wouldn’t show up.”
Adam shook his hand firmly saying, “I had a
long way to travel.”
“Where are you from?” Aaron asked curiously.
“My family owns a ranch in western Utah.
I traveled over the Sierra Nevada mountains to San Francisco
and from there I traveled by clipper ship to Boston.”
Aaron whistled. “I guess you did travel
a long way. Up until now I’ve never met anyone who lived
further west than the Berkshires.”
Adam smiled tentatively and then said, “How
about you? Where are you from?”
“My family owns a farm near Shelburne Falls,”
Aaron replied. “That’s in western Massachusetts.
We’ve farmed there since 1699. I’m the first in my family
to attend college.” He grimaced a little adding, “My father
doesn’t see what use a farmer has for a college education, but he
finally said if it meant that much to me, he wouldn’t stand in my way.”
“He sounds like my father,” Adam said with
a wry grin. “My stepmother helped me convince him to
let me attend college.” He stopped then and arching one
thick black eyebrow asked quizzically, “What are you studying?”
“I convinced my father I could learn practical
things if I enrolled in the Lawrence Scientific School.”
“I’m enrolled there, too,” Adam said dimpling.
“I can hardly wait for classes to begin.”
“Right now you’d better get unpacked,” Aaron
said with an answering grin. “The bedroom is through here.”
Adam went through the connecting door and saw
a small room with two identical beds (except that one had a bare
mattress), two washstands and shaving mirrors, and two battered
and scarred wardrobes and chests of drawers. He quickly unpacked
his other frock coat and trousers and hung them in the wardrobe with
the pair of canvas work pants he’s bought at Levi Strauss & Co in
San Francisco. (Since he could pack only a minimum of clothing,
his father had given him extra money and told him to visit a tailor
in Boston.) Then he carefully placed the linen dress shirts
Marie had sewn for him along with two work shirts—one of red flannel
and the other of blue calico—and his socks, handkerchiefs, ties, kid
gloves, and second waistcoat in the chest of drawers along with his
drawers, undershirts, and nightshirts. Next he took out towels,
sheets, blankets, and a rather squashed pillow from the larger valise.
He placed one set of sheets in the chest of drawers with the towels, and
then he began to make his bed with the other set while Aaron perched on
his narrow bed and watched.
As Adam finished his bed, Aaron spoke up.
“I have one piece of advice.”
“What’s that?” Adam asked.
“It may be the fashion to wear one’s hair that
long out West, but I recommend you visit a barber as soon as
possible. In the meantime, I can at least trim it for you.”
Adam looked skeptical but Aaron said with a smile, “I cut my younger
brother’s hair, and I would only trim the back, honest.”
Adam took another look at his reflection, noting
how long and how curly his hair was, and said with a self-deprecating
grin, “I think I’ll take you up on your offer.”
“Take off your coat then and sit down,” Aaron
replied with a matching grin. “We have just enough time
before supper.” He rummaged in his chest of drawers and pulled
out a pair of scissors. “I knew they’d come in handy,” he
added with a lopsided grin.
As he snipped at Adam’s hair he asked, “So
what classes are you taking this term?”
“First, I have analytic geometry,” Adam replied.
“I’m taking that. We can go together,”
and they shared a smile, both relieved that they would be able
to enter their first class with someone they knew and could sit
with.
“Then I have English literature,” and Aaron
shook his head at that. “Greek?”
“I’m taking Hebrew,” Aaron replied. “How
about history?”
“Yes, I’m taking history,” Adam said.
“Do you know which building is which?”
Aaron nodded and said, “I’ll show you after
supper.” He grinned broadly then. “Say, do you even
know where “university minor” is?”
Adam frowned. “I don’t even know what
it is.”
“I didn’t either so I can save you from embarrassment.
It’s what they call the privies,” and Adam rolled his eyes.
“Finished.” Aaron pulled out his pocket watch, saying,
“We’ll have to hurry to make it to the Commons on time.
Hope you like cod because I’m told that’s what we’re having tonight
along with baked beans. I have a wager with myself that we’ll
be served baked beans at every meal but breakfast.”
When they walked into the Commons, Adam felt
overwhelmed for a moment. He’d never seen so many boys
his own age before in a single room. They were as noisy
as a herd of stampeding steers. He and Aaron got their food
and found a place to sit, introducing themselves to the others at
the table.
“I can tell you’re not from around here, Cartwright,”
said one of the other students at the table—a thickset young
man with protuberant blue eyes and a weak chin named Winchester.
“I’ve never heard an accent like yours.”
“I’m from Western Utah,” Adam replied.
“My family owns a ranch near Lake Bigler.”
“You’re joking,” Winchester sneered.
“I’m surprised that you had even heard of Harvard out on the
frontier, let alone were able to pass the entrance examinations,”
and Adam clenched his jaw to keep from making a retort. “We’re
on our way to one of Boston’s finest brothels. You’re welcome
to come along with us and sample the delights civilization has to
offer.” He turned to his friends with a leer. “I’ve
heard Indian squaws are all that’s available on the frontier.”
“No thanks,” Adam said quietly and Aaron said
the same
“It looks like the farm boy and the cowboy
are a pair of prudes,” Winchester jeered. The others got
up from the table laughing.
“I’d rather be a prude than a rake,” Aaron
said quietly.
“I suppose I was naïve to think I wouldn’t
find that attitude here at college,” Adam added reflectively.
“Uh-yup, you were naïve,” said another
voice behind them and they both turned around to see that one
of the other students had returned. “Thomas Collingsworth,
if you didn’t catch my name before,” he said extending his hand.
He was short and slender with patrician features and very fine, silvery-blonde
hair. Adam and Aaron exchanged a look and then they each shook
Thomas’s hand. “Don’t be too hard on Winchester and the
others,” Thomas added, sitting back down at the table. “They
were taught the same manners you were but they look on Harvard as
a chance to escape the parental eye. Also,” he added, “they
aren’t scholars; they are only here because their fathers, grandfathers
and great-grandfathers are alumni and I’m afraid they plan on spending
their time drinking and whoring.”
“They’re friends of yours?” Adam asked arching
an eyebrow.
“We all attended Governor Dummer Academy,”
and seeing their blank looks he added, “It’s a preparatory
school—prepares you for college.”
“I studied with a tutor,” Adam replied and
Aaron added, “I had extra tutoring from our schoolmaster, who
was a Harvard graduate.”
“I was considered an oddity at the academy
because I actually enjoy learning. I’m planning on studying
the classics here and literature is my real love. What
about you two?”
“Mathematics is my passion,” Adam answered.
“I’m enrolled in the Scientific School.”
“As am I,” Aaron added. “I’m more interested
in biology and botany. Hope to be able to use what I
learn to improve our farm.”
“And I want to learn how to use mathematics
to solve engineering problems. I can think of lots of
uses for that on our ranch.” Adam stopped then and said,
“Aaron and I have two classes together—history and analytic geometry.”
“I’m taking history,” Thomas said with a smile.
“Are either of you taking Latin or Greek?”
“I’m taking Greek,” Adam replied and Thomas
said, “Well, maybe we can sit together. I think we’re going
to be studying The Odyssey . Should be interesting
reading it in the original language.” He grinned at them
both saying, “I should caution you that the history professor is
appalling. My older brothers warned me to be prepared to die
of boredom.” As they finished eating, Thomas shared some of
the stories he had about life at Harvard from his father and older brothers.
Since he’d visited the college several times, he took Adam and Aaron
on a tour of the Yard. They finished the evening at a tavern
in Cambridge drinking beer and playing billiards.
The next morning Adam and Aaron both woke at
dawn to a dormitory that was as silent as a tomb.
“I think we’re the only ones awake,” Aaron
said softly as he managed to light the lamp on his chest of drawers.
“I have a feeling these city boys aren’t used
to getting up and feeding and watering stock every morning before
breakfast,” Adam replied in an equally soft voice.
“Not to mention milking cows,” Aaron added
with a grin. “Well, at least “university minor” should
be empty.”
The two young men quickly slipped on trousers,
socks and Balmorals, but they decided since there was no one
else up they would just go in their undershirts. After they
returned, they made their beds, shaved and finished dressing, but
there was still no sound of anyone else stirring.
“I’m thinking this will be a good time to study,
but what will we do now to while away the time?” Adam asked.
“I packed my chess set. Do you play?”
Aaron asked.
By the time they finished their game, which
Aaron won, they could hear the other students beginning to wake
up and make their way to the privies. Aaron checked his watch
and said, “Another half hour until breakfast. I’m starting to
feel a little nervous.”
“Yeah, me too,” Adam replied. “Nervous
and excited. I’ve waited so long to begin attending college.
It’s hard to believe it’s really going to happen.”
Classes proved to be anticlimactic. Adam
found the lecture in English literature interesting and was
eager to begin studying The Canterbury Tales .
However, Thomas’s brother had been correct in his estimate of their
history professor and the geometry professor wasn’t much better.
Fortunately, Adam found the subjects more interesting than the lectures.
He was dismayed to learn that a good part of his time would be spent
giving recitations. It was one thing to talk about assignments
with his tutor and another entirely to discuss them in front of the entire
class. Still, they all had to endure it.
“I’m hitting the books after dinner,” Aaron
said as he and Adam and Thomas headed for the Commons after their
history class ended.
“I’ve a couple of errands to run first,” Adam
said, “so I guess I’ll be spending my evening studying.”
“Save a little time for a couple of beers,”
Thomas said. “And maybe we could play some cards.”
“Sure,” Adam replied with a grin. “Do
you play poker?”
“No, but I’d be happy to learn. Are you
game, Aaron?”
“We’ll be playing for matchsticks. That’s
all I can afford,” Adam interjected hastily, not wanting to embarrass
his friend. “Even if I had the money, my pa would skin me
alive if he knew I was gambling.”
“Sure, I’m game,” Aaron said and Adam saw the
gratitude in his eyes.
“Say, Thomas, do you know where there’s a barbershop
in Cambridge? And a tailor?” Adam asked, changing the
subject.
“You should visit a tailor in Boston, but I
can tell you where my brothers got their hair cut here in Cambridge.”
“I’m going to visit my grandfather in Boston
this weekend so I guess I could wait and visit the tailor then,”
Adam replied.
“You have family here?” Thomas asked.
“My mother’s father, Abel Stoddard. He
owns a chandlery on Commercial Street and he lives on Unity
Street. He invited me to visit; we hadn’t seen each other
since I was around two, but we’ve corresponded over the years.
I’m his only grandchild. I think my being able to visit Grandfather
was one of the reasons my father agreed I could come back east and
attend Harvard.”
Saturday morning Adam and Aaron were awakened
by deafening claps of thunder and the steady beating of raindrops
on their windowpanes. “Oh no,” Adam groaned, “I forgot
all about an umbrella.”
“You can borrow mine and then buy one while
you’re in Boston.”
“But what will you do?”
“I’ll stay in and study like a good boy,” Aaron
replied with an impish smile. “I’m not going to bother
with an umbrella going to university minor. I’m not made
of sugar and I won’t melt. Let’s just get our towels out
before we go and then we can dry off when we get back,” and Adam grinned
his assent.
A couple of hours later he was on his way to
the ferry that would take him across the Charles to Boston.
Aaron’s umbrella kept him reasonably dry above the waist but the
driving rain left his long legs soaked. He knew he must present
a bedraggled site as he walked the streets. Even with the directions
Thomas had given him, he still had to ask for assistance from passersby
before he found Unity Street. Once he had found Unity, it wasn’t
difficult to find his grandfather’s house. Like most of the others
on the street it was made of untreated cedar shingles, now gray with
exposure to the salt air. He used the knocker on the front door,
and it was answered by a plump middle-aged woman with graying brown hair.
“May I help you?’ she asked politely.
“I’m Adam Cartwright—“ he began but the woman
cut him off.
“You’re little Adam! Why, the last time
I saw you, you were only this high,” and she gestured to a level
below his knees. “Oh, you were the prettiest little boy
with those enormous eyes and those pretty curls.” She suddenly became
aware of Adam’s discomfort and bewilderment. “Oh, I am going
on, aren’t I? I worked for the Captain when you and your father
lived here before you went west. I’m Polly Stone and I’m your
grandfather’s housekeeper now. Oh my goodness, I’m keeping you
on the doorstep. Come in, come in, and I’ll let your grandfather
know you’re here. Give me your umbrella.”
She suddenly seemed to notice how wet he was.
“You’ll catch your death in those wet clothes. Your grandfather’s
clothes won’t fit, but you could use his dressing gown.
Then I could put these by the fire to dry. Come with me.”
Bemused, Adam followed her up the stairs and
down a narrow hallway. She opened a door revealing a cozy room
with flowered wallpaper and a large window with lace curtains.
A lovely four-poster bed of walnut covered by a brightly-colored
quilt dominated the room. On one side of the window was a large
highboy while a small combination bookcase and writing desk was on
the other side. There was a large wardrobe opposite the highboy
and an armchair by a bedside table on one side of the bed with another
by the window, while in one corner was a lady’s vanity.
“This was the room you and your father shared
when you were little, and the Captain thought you could stay
here when you visit.” She paused and then said hurriedly,
“I’ll go get the dressing gown and then you can change out of those
wet clothes.” She suddenly noticed his valise. “You’d
better give me that because those clothes will most likely need to
be dried as well.” After a moment’s hesitation Adam handed her
the valise and she bustled out the door.
Adam glanced around the room and walked over
to the vanity and picked up the hairbrush and comb and the little
bottle of cologne. Could they be Mother’s?
He moved to the wardrobe and opened it, finding an old-fashioned
gown of cream silk printed with sprays of pink roses and violets.
“Your mother’s wedding dress,” a gruff voice
stated, and Adam turned to find his grandfather watching him.
“Your father and I couldn’t bear to give this one away.
This was her room when she was growing up and when she and your
father married, it was their room. Then Benjamin shared it
with you. Your trundle bed is still there.” His eyes raked
over Adam’s wet trousers. “Polly said she’s bringing you my
dressing gown so you can get out of those wet clothes. Don’t
want you catching a cold. Wasn’t sure if you’d come in this
downpour.”
As if on cue, Polly appeared carrying a dressing
gown of plum brocade and a pair of thick wool socks. “Here
you are. Just bring me the wet things after you’ve changed,”
and then she and the Captain left him alone. He slipped off
his Balmorals, socks, trousers and frock coat and then put on the
dressing gown, which was several inches short of his ankles, and the
warm socks. As he fastened the dressing gown, he heard a discreet
knock.
“If you’ve changed, I’ll give your things to
Polly to dry and we can visit in here. Don’t imagine
you want to be sitting in the parlor in my dressing gown,” the
Captain said through the door.
“No, I wouldn’t,” Adam replied opening the
door and handing his grandfather his wet clothes and the Captain
chuckled.
“I’ll be right back. Like a cup of tea
or coffee?”
“A cup of coffee would be wonderful,” Adam
replied.
“I thought you’d think so. I’ll bring
it up.”
When he returned, he found Adam examining the
books in the bookcase. He looked totally absorbed so the
Captain cleared his throat before saying, “Your mother loved to
read. I sent you two of her books— Pilgrim’s Progress
and Robinson Crusoe . Didn’t know if a
boy would be interested in the others—thought they might be too
girlish.”
“My tutor had me read Pride and Prejudice
, but I’d like to read Persuasion and Emma
, if that’s all right?”
“Of course. Read any of her books you’d
like.”
“It looks as though she enjoyed Jane Austen,”
Adam commented. “And here’s the collected poems of John
Donne. Marie liked Donne. The first poem she ever had
me read was Death, Be Not Proud .”
The Captain saw the sadness in his grandson’s
eyes and said gently, “He must have been a good poet if they
both enjoyed him.” Then he said briskly, “Well, our coffee
is getting cold, so we’d best drink it.”
The Captain sat in the armchair by the window
while Adam perched on the bed, and as they drank the Captain
asked, “Settling in at the college?”
Adam nodded and added, “I like my roommate.
His family lives on a farm in western Massachusetts. Farming
and ranching are somewhat similar so it gives us something in
Commons.”
“Besides the fact you’re not Boston Brahmins,”
the Captain interjected with a sour smile.
“That’s right,” Adam replied with a wry grin
of his own. “However, we have made friends with one.
You know, it would be just as fair I’m beginning to think to divide
the students up into those who came to learn and those who came
to carouse.”
“That reminds me. I hope you planned
on coming to church with me tomorrow,” the Captain interjected.
“I attend the church where your parents were married, the Park
Street Church. It’s also where you were christened,” and Adam
cocked an eyebrow at that. There’d been no minister on the wagon
train to christen Hoss, and they’d had to travel to Sacramento to find
a priest to baptize Joe and there had been difficulties since Pa was neither
Catholic nor willing to convert. Adam had never even attended
church regularly until he’d stayed with the Townsends in San Francisco
while he was preparing for college. However, Pa had always made
sure they respected the Sabbath and every Sunday they would read from
the Bible, pray and sing one of the four hymns Pa knew by heart:
Amazing Grace, O For a Thousand Tongues to Sing, Love Divine, All Loves
Excelling, or Jesus Lover of My Soul . Suddenly the name Park
Street Church teased at his memory.
“That’s where William Lloyd Garrison
gave his first anti-slavery speech, isn’t it?” he asked and Captain
Stoddard saw the intensity in his gaze.
“That’s right,” the Captain agreed. “I
was away at sea then, but your grandmother and mother were
there, and they wrote me about it. He really stirred them
up, let me tell you. But it’s a good cause and I was proud
that they supported abolition.” Adam was elated to learn that his
mother had supported Garrison, for abolition was a cause he ardently
espoused. It was all well and good to talk about States’ rights,
but the rights of individuals—individuals who were treated as nothing
more than chattel—had to take precedence. The two were both
silent for a few moments drinking their coffee, and then the Captain
said, “I was going to take you to the chandlery but that will have to
wait.”
“I was planning on visiting a tailor; I had
to pack light and so Pa gave me money and told me to have some
clothes made here. Now I’ll have to put that off as well,”
said Adam. “Does it rain like this often? I didn’t
even think to pack an umbrella and I’m borrowing Aaron’s.”
“I’m sure I have a spare you can have,” the
Captain replied. “You’ll need one because it rains quite
a bit here. Now, the rain might slacken so you could still
run your errand. That’s one thing about the weather; it’s
very changeable. Of course a storm on land doesn’t compare with
one on the sea.”
“I know,” Adam replied, hi lips quirking up
in a hint of a smile. “As we were approaching Cape Horn,
we were caught in a blizzard of snow worse than I’d ever seen
in the mountains back home and there were waves the sailors said
were sixty feet high. One of them told me they call them “Cape
Horn snorters.”
“I’ve heard of them,” the Captain said with
a nod. “I never sailed the southern seas, always the North
Atlantic packets sailing between the United States and Europe.
We’d sail regardless of weather. Ice was our greatest danger.”
He stopped and said casually, “I forgot to ask before, but how
did you like your first sea voyage? Were you sick?”
“It was wonderful,” Adam replied and his grandfather
heard the delight in his voice and saw the light in his hazel
eyes. “I can certainly understand why you spent so many
years at sea. And no, I was never seasick. Got a
bit queasy when we went around the Horn I have to admit.”
He smiled shyly at his grandfather. “When I was little, Pa
used to tell me stories about when he sailed on The Wanderer
with you. He said you were the best captain he ever served
under.”
“He was the best first officer I ever had,
but don’t tell him I said so. Wouldn’t want to give him
a swelled head. Did he ever tell you about the time ” and
grandfather and grandson spent the next hour swapping stories about
voyages.
After dinner the rain slacked off a little
and Captain Stoddard insisted on ordering a hansom cab to take
Adam to the tailor’s. He returned in time for supper and
after they ate, he and the Captain played chess.
Sunday morning the sky was a brilliant blue
so Adam and the Captain walked to church, the Captain pointing
out historical sites such as the Old North Church and Paul Revere’s
house. (Since the Old North Church was so close to the Captain’s
house, Adam asked why they weren’t going there. “Because we’re
Congregationalists, boy, not Episcopalians,” his grandfather replied
brusquely. Adam decided he wouldn’t mention that he’d attended
a Methodist church in San Francisco. He didn’t understand
why people made such a fuss about different denominations; they were
all Christians, weren’t they?) They arrived at the church just a few
minutes before the service was to begin so they quietly slipped into
one of the back pews. Adam found the sermon interesting and
he enjoyed hearing the choir sing. After the service, a number
of people approached them, but the first to hurry over was a plump,
pretty woman with just a few silver strands in her ash-brown hair.
Before the Captain could even open his mouth, the woman got out in
a choked voice, “Adam Cartwright. I would know you anywhere;
you look so like your mother, God rest her soul.”
“Adam, this is your mother’s good friend, Margaret
Baldwin,” the Captain said. “When you were a little
baby, she helped Mrs. Calahan care for you.”
“I was your wet nurse,” Mrs. Baldwin added
and Adam’s cheeks flushed scarlet while the Captain hid a grin
behind his hand. “I want you to meet my children,” she said
and motioned forward two boys a few years younger than he was.
There wasn’t time for more than an introduction for several other
people were crowding around wanting to meet the young man who had
traveled back to Boston from the western frontier. Aside from
Mrs. Baldwin, Adam paid particular notice to several lovely girls, particularly
one with a heart-shaped face framed by silky, golden-brown curls named
Julia Quincy. He hoped another Sunday he would have an opportunity
to say more than hello to her. The family in the pew in front
of them, the Flemings, after being introduced, came back a few minutes
later with the choir director.
“We told Mr. Reed that you have the loveliest
baritone voice and he should recruit you for the choir,” Mrs.
Fleming stated.
“We can always use more baritones and basses,”
Mr. Reed said with a smile. “We practice on Sunday mornings
before the service so it shouldn’t interfere with your studies.
I hope you’ll consider it, Mr. Cartwright.”
Adam looked sideways at his grandfather who
said in his customary gruff manner, “I think you should, lad.
I don’t have much of an ear, but even I can tell you have a fine
voice.” So Adam told Mr. Reed he would be at next Sunday’s
practice. Just then he spied Aaron walking away from the church.
“Excuse me,” he said hurriedly and broke away from the crowd surrounding
them.
“Aaron,” he called and Aaron stopped and turned
his way. “Come meet my grandfather,” he said when he’d
caught up with his friend, and placed his hand on Aaron’s arm and
moved him back toward Captain Stoddard. “Grandfather, this
is my roommate, Aaron Wharton. Aaron, my grandfather, Captain
Abel Stoddard.”
“Pleased to meet you, my boy,” the Captain
said extending his hand and Aaron took it with a shy smile.
“Next Sunday, why not stop by my house and walk to church with me?
Adam here is joining the choir and so he’ll be leaving earlier.”
“Unless you would also like to join the choir?”
Mr. Reed asked hopefully.
“You wouldn’t want me,” Aaron grinned broadly.
“I can’t carry a tune in a bucket,” and Mr. Reed shrugged ruefully.
“Aaron, I hope you’ll have dinner with Adam
and me,” the Captain interjected quickly.
“I would love to, thanks so much, Captain Stoddard,”
Aaron replied agreeably.
After dinner, Aaron excused himself but Adam
said he would return to the college later. When his friend
had gone, Adam turned to his grandfather and asked, “Could you
give me directions to where my mother is buried?”
The Captain started to say he would take him,
but he saw something vulnerable in his grandson’s normally veiled
eyes and only provided him with directions. Adam walked
the streets, oblivious to the lovely Indian summer, and soon stood
before his mother’s granite headstone in the shade of a weeping willow.
He couldn’t stop the tears from filling his eyes and running down
his cheeks as he read the dates of her birth and death.
“Oh, Mother, no one told me you weren’t even
twenty when you died. Pa says it’s not my fault, that
sometimes it just happens that way, but it’s hard not to think
that if it hadn’t been for me, you’d still be alive. Some
people would say I have been very unlucky to lose you and Inger and
Marie, but I know I’ve been blessed to have the three of you as mothers.
It’s just that I have so many memories of Marie and a few happy ones
of Inger, but I have none of you. Pa has talked to me a little—I
know it was you that chose my name—but even after all these years,
it still hurts him to speak of you. I hope that by reading the
books you loved and talking with Grandfather that I’ll finally have
a chance to know you. Pa did tell me that you’d be pleased at
my attending Harvard, and I plan on making you proud of me.”
“Pa,” Hoss said around a mouth full of eggs
and bacon as the three Cartwrights gathered around the breakfast
table, “when will we get a letter from Adam? He’s been gone
a long time.”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full, son,” Ben
corrected automatically. “I hope we receive one soon.
It takes longer for mail to arrive from Massachusetts than from
San Francisco. He should have arrived at Harvard by now.
I imagine he’s been busy but I’m certain he’ll write us as soon
as he can.” He paused and then said thoughtfully, “Tell you
what, why don’t we each write Adam a letter? I’m sure he misses
us and he’d like to hear from us just as much as we want to hear from
him.”
“Joe don’t know how to write,” Hoss remarked.
“Doesn’t know,” Ben corrected. “But he
can tell me what he wants to say to Adam and I will write it
for him.” He turned to his youngest. “Would you
like me to help you write a letter to Adam?”
“Yeah,” Joe said with a big grin.
“All right. Tonight after supper, we’ll
write our letters to Adam.”
They all gathered around the kitchen table
with paper and ink. Ben held Joe on his lap and said
quietly, “Tell me what you want to say to Adam.”
“Tell him to come home,” Joe said firmly.
“Joe, he won’t be coming home for some time,”
Ben said gently. “Why don’t you tell him about Susan the
cat?”
“Okay,” Joe answered with a grin. “Tell
Adam we gots a cat to catch the mice, an’ her name is Susan, an’
she’s black with white feet like socks. Her tongue tickles
when she licks me. I like her,” he added watching his pa’s
hand make squiggly marks on the paper.
“I was gonna write ‘bout Susan,” Hoss complained.
“You still can,” Ben replied. “Tell him
how I paid fifty cents for her because we needed a cat so badly.
And you can tell him how Susan shares the mice she catches with
us.” Hoss grinned and began writing. Ben turned back
to Joe. “Do you want to say anything else?” Joe nodded
and Ben saw his huge green eyes begin to swim with tears while his
lower lip and chin began to quiver.
“I miss him. I want him to come home
now.”
“I know you do,” Ben replied softly kissing
his cheek, “and Adam misses you, too. Now let’s get you
ready for bed and then Pa will tell you a bedtime story.
Okay?” and Joe nodded but he still looked so mournful it broke
Ben’s heart. If only there had been a way to allow Adam
to fulfill his dream without hurting Joe and Hoss and me.
“Pa,” Joe said as Ben tucked him into bed,
“tell me a story about Adam. About Adam when he was little
like me.”
“All right,” Ben agreed, understanding his
youngest son’s need to feel close to his older brother.
He sat on the edge of the bed and Joe reached for his hand linking
their fingers. “When Adam was about your age, he and Hoss’s
mama, Inger, and I were traveling west in a covered wagon from
Illinois to St. Joseph, Missouri.”
“What about Hoss?” Joe interrupted.
“Hoss wasn’t born yet,” and Joe frowned in
concentration, trying to imagine a world without Hoss.
“Most of the time,” Ben continued, “Adam rode in the wagon with
Inger, but sometimes he got tired of sitting and wanted to get
down and walk. We told him he mustn’t wander off but one day
he saw some raspberries growing along the side of the road.”
“Adam likes raspberries,” Joe stated emphatically.
“Yes, he does, and when he saw them he forgot
all about not wandering off. He went from bush to bush
and ate so many raspberries that his stomach began to hurt and
he looked around and realized he couldn’t see the wagon any more.”
“I bet he was scared,” Joe said, his own eyes
big and round.
“Yes, he was,” Ben replied, “but he wasn’t
any more scared than Inger and I were when we stopped to rest
our oxen and realized Adam was nowhere in sight.”
“What did you do?” Joe demanded.
“We called and we called for him, but got no
answer so we decided to turn around and go back and look for
him. We kept calling for him until we were both hoarse, but
there was no sign of him. We were so scared and so worried.
Inger was in tears, and so was I,” and for a moment he relived the utter
terror he had experienced when he feared his young son would die of
exposure or dehydration before he could be found.
“Really, Pa?” Joe asked. “You was cryin’?”
“Yes, I was, Joe. That’s how scared I
was that something had happened to my little boy.” He
hid a small smile at the skepticism on Joe’s face on hearing his
oldest brother referred to as his father’s little boy. “But
then we saw someone riding up on a horse. As soon as he got close
enough the rider shouted, ‘Did you folks lose a little boy?’”
“’Yes!’ I shouted back. ‘Is he all right?’”
“’He’s pretty scared and he’s got a bellyache
from eatin’ too many berries,’ the boy riding the horse told
us, ‘but we took him to our farmhouse and my pa sent me to see if
I could find his folks. Come on, I’ll show you the way.’
When we got to the farm, Inger jumped down from the wagon and I leaped
off my horse and we ran inside. The farmer’s wife had seen us
coming and opened the front door for us. ‘He’s all right,’ she
told us. ‘I had him lie down in our bedroom and he’s cried himself
to sleep.’ We hurried into the bedroom and there he was.
His eyes and his nose were red and swollen from crying and he was all
curled up in a ball. He woke up when we came in and started crying
again holding out his arms, sobbing, ‘Papa. Mama.’ Inger sat
on the bed and took him in her arms and hugged him and kissed him.”
“Did you have a necessary talk with him?” Joe
asked curiously.
“I would have except he had been so frightened
that I really thought he’d learned his lesson. Besides,
with Inger hugging and kissing him, it was pretty hard for me
to spank him. I just waited my turn and then I hugged him
and kissed him. He had to stay in the wagon from then on though
unless Inger or I walked with him.”
“I’m glad you found him,” Joe said in a sleepy
voice, his eyelids drooping.
“So am I,” Ben said softly and leaned over
and kissed Joe’s honey-blond curls that were so like Marie’s,
thankful again that his oldest and youngest sons resembled their
mothers so strongly.
When Ben returned, Hoss put his pen down and
wriggled his fingers. “Did you finish your letter?” Ben
asked as he sat back down at the table.
“Yup,” Hoss answered. “I told him about
Susan and about Lucy’s new piglets and about Beauty gonna have
a foal and Hop Sing’s new rooster.”
“That sounds like a wonderful letter,” Ben
said smiling at him and adding, “I know Adam will enjoy it.”
Hoss beamed at his father’s praise and decided
he’d best finish those pesky arithmetic problems his teacher
had assigned him. I shore wish Adam was here to help
me with these problems, he thought sadly .
Late in the afternoon a few days later while
Hop Sing was preparing supper, Hoss was doing his evening chores
and Joe played with the Noah’s Ark he’d inherited from Adam and
Hoss, Ben returned from a visit to Mormon Station for supplies,
calling, “There’s a letter from Adam!”
“A letter from Adam! Yahoo!” Hoss shouted
running out of the barn. “What’s he say?”
“I haven’t read it. I thought we’d wait and
read it after supper,” Ben replied.
Hoss opened his mouth to argue, but caught
himself. “Shore hope we eat fast.” He looked longingly
at the letter in his pa’s hand.
By unspoken agreement, they did all eat as
quickly as possible and Ben insisted Hop Sing join them as
he read Adam’s letter aloud. Ben sat on the Windsor settee
he and Adam had made for the cabin and Joe crawled on his lap,
while Hoss sat Indian-style on the floor facing his father and Hop
Sing stood behind Ben. Ben opened the letter carefully and began
to read in his mellifluous bass.
— 1854
Dear Family,
I have been here at Harvard for almost a week
now and I realized I needed to write and let you know how things
are going with me. My roommate is a young man named Aaron
Wharton from western Massachusetts. He has never been to
Cambridge or Boston before, so I guess you could say we are both
like fish out of water, but we are managing. I know you would
all like Aaron. He is serious, but he has a great sense of the
ridiculous. I am not certain how Hop Sing would feel about him
because he doesn’t have much of an appetite and he is skinny as a rail
just like Ross. (Only
Hoss could see the cook’s lips twitch in a smile
at those words.)
I thought that I would describe my typical
day. Aaron and I are both up with the sun. First
thing, we put on some clothes and visit “university minor,’
which is what everyone calls the privies.
(Ben had to smother a chuckle before continuing but
Hoss guffawed loudly and even Joe giggled.)
Then we go to the Commons for breakfast. I must tell
you that the food they serve in the Commons is nowhere near as
good as Hop Sing’s. (In this instance I guess Aaron is lucky
that he doesn’t care much about food; he just eats whatever is put
before him.) Another freshman, Thomas Collingsworth, whose father,
grandfather, and great-grandfather all attended Harvard, told us that
in the past there have actually been riots about the quality of the
food served at the Commons. I don’t know what it was like back
then, but I don’t think the food is that horrible.
After breakfast I attend recitations and lectures
and then it is time for dinner at the Commons. Most of the
afternoon I study although I have managed to do a little exploring
in Cambridge, sometimes with Aaron and sometimes on my own.
One of the first things I did was to visit a barber and a tailor.
I can’t afford the sartorial splendor of some students, but in
some ways, I am glad of that. Aaron’s family is not wealthy
and I wouldn’t want to lord it over him. We are becoming good
friends. We are both in the Lawrence Scientific School so we
are taking some of the same classes. He’s been telling me about
growing up on a small farm with his parents and siblings and I’ve been
telling him about life on a ranch.
Hoss interrupted. “What’s siblings?”
“Brothers and sisters,” Ben replied and then
he continued reading.
This term I attend lectures and
recitations in analytic geometry, Greek, English Literature, and
history. (Freshmen are expected to take an ancient language
and I have had enough of Latin, and between Hebrew and Greek, I
chose Greek.) Even though the instructor is a dreadful bore, I am
still enjoying analytic geometry. The history lectures are
the worst. The instructor speaks in an appalling monotone,
which makes it difficult to remain awake and the more so because at intervals
he will stop speaking and close his eyes as if in prayer. Aaron
and I have heard he is notorious for boring his students to death.
I dread the recitations. We have
to stand before the instructor and the other students and talk
about assigned passages of the text. (In a language class,
you translate the assigned passages.) The instructor and
the other students ask you questions. I just hate having to stand
up in front of everyone to talk. My palms always sweat and
I feel like I am going to be sick. Aaron hates them, too.
In fact, I haven’t met anyone who likes recitations. Thomas Collingsworth
said that his father told him that in his day, all the instruction
was done by recitation. All I can say is, “Thank God for progress!”
Aaron and I have both joined the Speakers Club.
Many freshmen join and it is proving to be a good way to make
friends. (When we are upperclassmen we hope to be invited
to join the Hasty Pudding.) Some of the wealthy students
are very snobbish, but not all. Thomas comes from a very wealthy
old family but he is friendly to everyone. Like Aaron and me,
he is interested in learning, which I was surprised to discover is
not true of all the students. He is studying the classics and
the only class all three of us have together is history. (He and
I are both taking Greek though.)
I miss all of you very much, but mostly I am
enjoying myself. Grandfather invited me to visit him
this weekend. (I see I forgot to mention that he was there
to meet me when the Surprise docked. We talked a little
on the way to Cambridge, but we’ll have more opportunities to
visit this weekend.)
Affectionately yours,
Adam
“I just don’t understand how Adam would rather be in Boston
studyin’ than home with us,” Hoss said sadly and Joseph added belligerently,
“Me neither.”
“Boys, your brother has a thirst for learning
that none of us has,” Ben replied quietly. He hugged Joe
and reached over to squeeze Hoss’s shoulder. “It’s the way Adam
has always been since he was a little boy and if we love him, then
we just have to accept it.”
“I want him to come home,” stated Joe in an
angry tone that ended in a sob.
“We all do, Joseph, but we’re just going to
have to be patient until he earns his degree,” Ben said quietly,
kissing Joe on the cheek and ruffling his curls. “Now that
we have a letter from Adam, why don’t we each write him one in
reply? Okay?”
Aaron walked into the room to find Adam sitting
at his desk bent over a book. When Adam looked up, Aaron
could see his eyes were suspiciously bright. “Still no letter
from home?” he asked quietly.
“No,” Adam replied, hiding his face behind
his book. He took a deep breath and said slowly, “I told
you it’s not that surprising. It takes forever for a
letter to get from Western Utah to Massachusetts. And
sometimes they get lost.” He glanced quickly at his friend
and said softly, “I’m all right, Aaron.”
“I know you are,” Aaron protested, just a touch
too firmly. “I also know you’ve spent enough time on geometry.
How about we go drink some beer and play a couple of games of
billiards? Be a different way to study geometry.”
“Sure,” Adam replied with a smile, but Aaron
saw it didn’t reach his eyes.
Adam was in better spirits when they returned
a few hours later. As soon as they entered Massachusetts
Hall, a voice called out, “Cartwright! Wait.” Adam
and Aaron halted and a classmate ran over to them. “I have
a gift for you, Cartwright. An elderly gentleman dropped this
off for you. Said to tell you it was mailed to his address,”
and he handed Adam a large bulky envelope addressed in his father’s
handwriting.
“I guess patience really is a virtue,” Aaron
said, grinning hugely. “I’ll go on over to the Commons
and I’ll see if I can smuggle some food back to you. Happy
reading,” and he slapped Adam on the back.
“Thanks, Aaron,” Adam replied, and Aaron saw
the joy in his friend’s eyes before he turned and ran up the
stairs to the privacy of their suite.
When Aaron returned, he found Adam sitting
at his desk writing with a huge grin on his face. “So
I take it everything is all right back on the Ponderosa?”
“Sure is. Pa bought a kitten for 50 cents
to cut down on the mice,” Adam said and Aaron whistled.
“No, she’s worth the money, believe me. Cats are scarce on
the frontier and the mice get in the grain for the horses and they invade
the kitchen as well. Joe drew me a picture of Susan. See,”
and he held up a pencil drawing.
Aaron admired the drawing and then said, “So
what other news did you get?”
“Pa said he sold 50 head of beef at Placerville
at $15 a head. They started a school in Mottsville and
Hoss is attending. He doesn’t like it at all; says he wishes
I were back home so I could help him with his schoolwork.”
“I take it Hoss is not a scholar.”
“No, not at all. He’s not stupid; in
fact, he’s smarter than I am about some things. They just
don’t happen to be academic,” Adam said a little defensively.
“He’s got a way with animals that makes him invaluable on a ranch.”
“He’d be welcome on a farm, too,” Aaron said
quietly and Adam relaxed and smiled at his roommate.
“He can put himself in another person’s shoes
and see things from his point of view; he’s very empathetic.”
Adam then added with a huge grin, “He’s big and he’s strong.
He’s only 12 but he’s already 5’5” and he has a stocky, powerful build.
Last time we got in a fight was a few of weeks before I left to come
here. I ended up with a black eye, a split lip and various bruises
and, as the pièce de résistance , he
knocked me out cold with a roundhouse punch. That kinda scared
him because he didn’t know how strong he really is. Heck, I didn’t
know either or I wouldn’t have fought with him, that’s for sure.”
“Almost forgot,” Aaron interjected. “I
did manage to smuggle some food for your supper. Crab
cakes”
“Thanks, Aaron. I’ll finish this letter
to Hoss, and then I’ll eat,” Adam replied smiling warmly at his
friend.
“Hey, Pa, I hear someone ridin’ up,” Hoss said
just after putting a forkful of steak in his mouth as the Cartwrights
gathered for supper.
“Hoss, how many times do I have to tell you
not to talk when you have food in your mouth,” Ben said sternly.
Hoss looked so crestfallen that he relented and said with a smile,
“Why don’t you go see who it is?”
“Me, too!” Joe said jumping up and running
to the door before his father could even open his mouth.
“Hey, Doc,” Hoss said smiling his gap-tooth
grin at Dr. Paul Martin as he drove his buggy into the yard.
“Ain’t no one sick here.”
“Hello to you too, Hoss,” Dr. Martin said with
a friendly smile as he stepped out of the buggy. “Hello
Joe,” and he tousled the little boy’s honey-blond curls.
“Ben,” he said as the oldest Cartwright stepped onto the front porch,
“I knew I’d be headed out this way so I offered to deliver your
mail.” He paused to heighten the suspense before adding, “It’s
from Cambridge.”
“From Adam?” Joe asked excitedly.
“That’s right. I have a letter for Master
Eric Cartwright, one for Master Joseph Cartwright and one for
Mr. Ben Cartwright,” Dr. Martin answered with a beaming smile.
“Can you stay for supper, Paul?” Ben asked.
“We’ll read Adam’s letters aloud.”
“Thanks. I’d love to,” Paul replied.
“Be good to hear how Adam is getting along.”
“Hoss, put up Dr. Martin’s horse, please.
Then come finish your dinner.”
After they finished eating, they all gathered
in the front room that Marie had called her parlor. While
the others looked at him expectantly Ben opened his letter and
began to read.
— 1854
Dear Pa,
First, I got your letter and Hoss’s and Joe’s.
I enjoyed hearing about Susan and getting Joe’s picture of
her; I hope she is able to cut a swath through the Ponderosa’s
rodent population so you will get a good return for your fifty cents.
Sounds like you already have from what Hoss wrote.
“What’s he mean by cut a swath through
the rodent population?” Hoss interrupted.
“He means he hopes Susan will kill lots of
mice and rats,” Ben replied. “Now hush and let me continue.”
“Susan ain’t big enough to tackle no rats,”
Hoss added and then his voice trailed off as he saw his father
glaring at him.
…Tell Hoss not to feed her too many
scraps. She’ll hunt better if she’s a little hungry.
It was good to hear you got such a great price
for the cattle, Pa. I know you’ll find it hard to believe,
but I missed the drive. It’s the wide-open spaces and the
vast sky full of stars that I miss, not those ornery steers.
There are many advantages to living in a city, but they certainly
are crowded and dirty and loud. Sometimes it’s hard to think
in the hubbub. Aaron feels the same way, but even he says a
cowboy like me probably would find his family’s farm too confining,
and I have a feeling that he’s right.
I visit Grandfather every weekend. He
is rather frail now (although he’ll never admit it) but I suppose
that is to be expected. We spend much of our time talking
about my mother. I do understand that it is difficult for
you to talk about her, Pa, but after listening to Grandfather,
I really feel I am beginning to know her.
Ben had to break off then and blink
back the tears that threatened. “Pa,” Joe said fearfully.
“It’s all right, Joe,” Ben said in an unsteady voice.
“I’m just feeling sad about Adam’s mama and Adam never having
a chance to know her.”
“Like I never knew mine,” Hoss said sadly and
Ben gave his shoulder an affectionate squeeze. Joe didn’t
completely understand about his brothers having different mothers
than his, so he sat quietly looking at Ben with anxious eyes.
After a few moments Ben collected himself and continued reading.
…On the weekends, I stay with Grandfather
Saturday nights. He has me sleep in Mother’s old room.
He said when I was a baby you and I slept there. He even showed
me the trundle bed where I used to sleep. I feel very close
to Mother there. On Sundays, I go to church with Grandfather
and I’ve joined the choir. The first time I attended church I felt
like the Prodigal Son, or maybe the Lost Sheep would be a better analogy.
I met some of Grandfather’s old friends and friends of Mother’s
and of yours. I am afraid I can’t remember the names of everyone
who asked to be remembered to you, but I do remember Mrs. Baldwin.
(Grandfather told me that she had been my mother’s dearest friend and
she informed me that she had been my wet nurse. I rather wish she
hadn’t mentioned that!)
Neither Ben nor Paul could hide a
grin at those words but Joe asked, “What’s a wet nurse?” wrinkling
his nose in puzzlement.
“Would you like to answer that, Paul?” Ben
queried with a teasing gleam in his eyes.
Paul raised his eyebrows but then turned to
Joe, who looked at him expectantly. “Well, Joe, you know
how baby animals drink their mother’s milk when they are very small?”
“Sure. Everyone knows that,” Joe replied.
“Well, human babies are the same. But
sometimes, the mother dies and so another woman who is nursing
her own baby will volunteer to nurse the other baby as well.
Your father has told me that Adam’s mother died when he was born so
he needed to find a woman who would nurse him, and Mrs. Baldwin was
that woman.”
“We fed Lucy’s extra piglets with a bottle,”
Joe said frowning.
“And if your father couldn’t have found a wet
nurse for Adam, that’s what he would have done. But it
is better for the baby to have human milk rather than cow’s milk.”
Joe looked unconvinced but Ben forestalled
any questions by saying, “Let’s get back to Adam’s letter,
all right?”
I met her two sons; one is a couple of years
younger than I am and the other looks to be about Hoss’s age.
Grandfather said she had a daughter who was my first playmate.
I asked if I could meet her but he told me she died of diphtheria
when she was very young. Told me I had it as well. I can
remember measles and the mumps, but I guess I was too young to remember
diphtheria.
Some of your old friends have daughters about
my age who are very pretty, and I am hoping to further an acquaintance
with one of them. Her name is Julia Quincy. I haven’t
worked up the courage yet to do more than speak to her after the
church service, but I don’t have much time for courting anyway.
Usually after church I visit Mother’s grave. It is so peaceful
there and brings to mind Gray’s lines: “Beneath those rugged elms,
that yew tree’s shade/Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering
heap,/Each in his narrow cell forever laid ”
Aaron and I are both learning to adjust to
college life and we have so much work to do that we really haven’t
had time to explore much of Cambridge or Boston. Many of
the other students are from very wealthy old families and they
have little use for a pair of country boys like us. There is
a jingle I heard recently. You may have already heard it, and
it pretty much sums up many of my classmates:
I come
from the city of Boston,
The home
of the bean and the cod,
Where
the Cabots speak only to Lowells,
And the
Lowells speak only to God.
Of course, not everyone is so arrogant; Thomas
Collingsworth, whom I mentioned in my last letter, has been
very friendly to us. The three of us are going to supper
in Boston this Friday evening. Since Thomas is a native
Bostonian, we are letting him choose the restaurant. I hope
to hear from all of you soon.
Affectionately yours,
Adam
“Well, Hoss, how about yours?” Ben
asked as he carefully folded the letter.
“No, read mine next, Pa!” Joe shouted.
“There is no need to shout, Joseph,” Ben said
firmly. “All right with you, Hoss?” he inquired and Hoss
nodded. He was torn because he wanted to keep Adam’s letter
private, so it would be something just between the two of them, but
he knew his family was curious about what Adam had written him.
After all, they were sharing their letters.
— 1854
Dear Joe,
Thanks for the picture of Susan, Little Buddy.
I showed it to Aaron and we both thought that it was wonderful.
He tells me that they have lots of cats living on their farm
to get rid of mice, but none of their cats is as amazing as Susan.
Yes, Little Buddy, I do miss you an awful lot,
but I am enjoying school and making new friends here and spending
time with my grandfather. Autumn is really beautiful in
New England. The trees turn scarlet, orange, gold, and purple
and it’s great fun to walk through the piles of fallen leaves and
listen to the crackling and crunching noise they make. Sometimes
I go to the harbor in Boston and watch the tall clipper ships and the
seagulls soaring overhead and smell the sea air. I’ve been to
Bunker Hill and imagined what it must have been like to see the colonists
and the redcoats fighting there. I’ve also seen the Old North
Church and Paul Revere’s home and the site of the Boston Massacre.
It’s just so exciting to actually see where so many of the events
in our history took place. Maybe someday when you are grownup, you
and I and Hoss can come to Boston and I can show you all those wonderful
places.
Affectionately yours,
Adam
“It does sound like Adam is having
a wonderful time,” Paul said with a smile. “I have to admit
I envy him the libraries and booksellers he can visit.”
“I still wish he’d come home. It’s more
fun here than in old Boston,” Joe said with a scowl. “I
guess it’s a good thing he can visit his grandfather,” he added
dejectedly. He turned to look at Ben quizzically. “How
come Adam has a grandfather and Hoss and I don’t?”
“You and Hoss have grandfathers,” Ben replied
placing his arm around Joe’s shoulders. “You, Hoss and
Adam have a Grandfather Cartwright, my father, but he died when
I was about Hoss’s age. Your mother’s father and Hoss’s
mother’s father are also dead. Only Adam’s mother’s father
is still living. He’s an old man so I am glad he has this chance
to spend time with Adam and they can get to know each other.”
He turned to Hoss then with a smile. “Ready to read your letter,
son?”
“Okay, Pa,” Hoss replied and carefully opened
his letter and unfolded it.
— 1854
Dear Hoss,
That Lucy is really amazing! I told Aaron
about the size of her litter and he was astounded. He said
none of their sows had ever had more than eight piglets in a litter.
I knew I could count on you to take good care of Beauty, Little Brother.
You tell Pa I’d be pleased to give you her foal to raise.
With that quarter horse of Mr. Marquette’s as the sire, I think
there’s a good chance the foal could be a good mount for you.
I can hardly believe you’ve grown an inch just in the time I’ve been
gone. Guess I won’t be able to call you “Little Brother” much
longer.
Last weekend was the annual football contest
between the freshman and sophomore classes. The sophomores
won, but we gave a good account of ourselves. I have a feeling
Pa, Grandfather, and Dr. Martin wouldn’t have approved of my
participation since the game can be really brutal.
(Hoss glanced nervously at Ben and
saw he was frowning, but plunged ahead. He would have to
let Adam know that he would be reading his letters aloud and to send
anything really private on a separate sheet.)
The object of the game is to
move the ball across a goal line. You can do it by kicking,
running or throwing it. The opposing team will try to tackle
you so you can’t score a goal. I never had possession of
the ball so I only got a few bruises. Aaron didn’t ever have
the ball either but he got a black eye along with bruises. One
of the boys who was tackled got two broken ribs and others had broken
collarbones, broken arms and teeth were knocked out. One sophomore
was knocked unconscious but he’s all right now. If I had your build,
maybe I would have done better.
“Probably would have ended up in a
hospital,” Ben muttered angrily.
“It’s part of college life, Ben,” Paul said
soothingly. “That football match has been going on for
years; the college keeps threatening to stop it, but they haven’t
done it yet.”
Ben saw Hoss was looking at him nervously and
said, “Go ahead, Hoss.”
Wish I could be there to help you with
your arithmetic, but I know Pa will help if you ask. At least
your teacher sounds nice and I hope you’ll make friends at the school.
I am so glad I was given Aaron as a roommate because we are really
becoming good friends. To some people here a cowboy like me is
sort of a freak; I think they expect me to be totally uncivilized.
It makes me angry but sometimes it works to my advantage. I
can tell some of the girls I meet find me a little dangerous.
Unfortunately, I think their parents view me the same way and they
don’t want their daughters to have anything to do with me.
Oh well, as I wrote Pa, I don’t have any time for courting now anyway.
Give Beauty an apple for me and take good care
of her. Let me know if she has a filly or a colt.
Affectionately yours,
Adam
“It sounds as though Adam is finding
libraries and booksellers are not the only advantages Boston has
over Mormon Station,” Paul commented as Ben glared at him.
Paul chuckled and then said cheerfully, “Don’t glower, old friend.
Adam is not one to allow his heart to rule his head. You
know that.”
“Don’t know why he wants to write about girls,”
Joe complained. “What did he mean they think he’s dangerous?
Adam ain’t dangerous,” he snorted.
“I think he means he’s different from the young
men they know and women are always intrigued by someone who’s
different,” Paul answered with a teasing smile at Ben.
“He’s not gonna marry a girl there, is he,
Pa?” Hoss asked apprehensively.
“I certainly hope not,” Ben stated emphatically.
“He is only eighteen years old; that’s much too young to be
thinking of marriage. Besides, he wrote us he doesn’t
even have time to court now, so I don’t think we need to worry
about him getting married.”
One rainy afternoon in late September, Adam
and Aaron were in their study while the rain beat against the
windowpanes and occasionally a flash of lightening would light
up the sky followed almost immediately by an enormous clap of thunder.
Aaron slammed his geometry textbook shut and threw his pencil down
in disgust. Adam looked over raising one eyebrow. “Euclid
should have been hanged before he could invent geometry,” Aaron answered
the unspoken question, scowling at the textbook.
“What’s the problem? I finished our assignment
so maybe I can help,” Adam said getting up from his desk to
stand behind Aaron so he could see what he was working on.
He frowned as he looked intently at Aaron’s work and then his face
lightened. “Look, this is where you went wrong,” he said
pointing. “You just miscalculated. If you correct that
error, then you’ll have the correct solution.”
Aaron looked carefully where Adam was pointing,
frowning at the problem. Then he broke into a broad grin.
“I see. Thanks, Adam.” He looked sideways at his friend
before saying, “You really like geometry, don’t you?”
Adam nodded. “I’ve always liked mathematics.
No one else in my family does though.”
“Sounds like the rest of your family is normal,”
Aaron said with a grin and Adam playfully punched him in the
arm before going back to his own desk. Aaron was finishing
his geometry when he heard Adam whistle and looked up inquiringly.
“You won’t believe this, Aaron,” Adam said
shaking his head. “If I used this kind of language my
pa would have washed my mouth out with lye soap.”
“What’s it say?” Aaron asked curiously.
“Here, see for yourself,” Adam said handing
Aaron the book.
“I thought you were studying English Literature,”
Aaron said in a puzzled tone.
“I am. The Canterbury Tales was
written in Middle English. Here, this is the part I was
talking about,” and he got up and put his finger on the passage.
“Oh my word!” Aaron said, his eyes opened wide
and a faint blush on his cheeks. “I always thought of
people in medieval times as being more refined. The code of
chivalry—you know.”
“The Knight’s Tale is like that, but
not this one. This one makes you realize people haven’t
really changed that much over the centuries. It may be ribald,
but it’s funny.” He smirked a little but then quickly sobered
up. “I hope I’m not called on for a recitation on The Miller’s
Tale ,” he said swallowing nervously.
The next day as the students filed in and took
their seats, Adam noticed nearly everyone looked nervous and
he understood that they all dreaded being called on to discuss
this assignment. The professor entered and Adam dropped his
eyes and nervously rubbed the back of his head and smoothed down
his hair. The professor looked around the room and made his selection.
“Mr. Cartwright, please favor us with your
observations on The Miller’s Tale,” the professor said
briskly.
Adam rose slowly to his feet and faced the
professor. “ The Miller’s Tale is a fabliau;
however, the four characters in it are unique individuals and
not merely caricatures as is usually the case. The plot is
extremely convoluted, and part of the fabliau’s joke lies in the
plot’s absurdity. I think The Miller’s Tale is
a parody of The Knight’s Tale. Both tell o both tell
of two young men who are rivals for the hand of a woman. As we
discussed in our last class, the woman in The Knight’s Tale
is passive—willing to be the prize of whichever young man wins
the fight. The woman in The Miller’s Tale is not at
a shy virgin but the young wife of an old man and she is not at all
passive; she chooses which young man will be her lover. The
language of The Knight’s Tale is very refined while the
language in The Miller’s Tale is,” and Adam stuttered slightly, “v-very
earthy.” He hurried on, eager to finish. “I think that the
juxtaposition of these two tales indicates that Chaucer wanted to show
that underneath the refined and flowery language, the behavior of the
two aristocrats is not really that different from the bawdy actions of
the student and the parish clerk.”
“Interesting thesis, Mr. Cartwright.
Does anyone else have anything to contribute?” the professor
stated as Adam let himself relax.
“I think Mr. Cartwright is taking the tale
too seriously. After all, Chaucer himself said it was
a joke,” one of the snobbish students stated condescendingly
“I found the language vulgar and offensive.
I was particularly offended by Chaucer’s treating adultery as
a joke and making a fool of the wronged husband,” added another
piously.
Adam became so involved in defending his analysis
that he forgot to be nervous and the class passed quickly.
This recitation had gone much better than the one in his Greek class.
In fact, he’d actually enjoyed it.
A few afternoons later Thomas came by Adam
and Aaron’s suite asking if they’d care to go for a walk.
“Today is so glorious and I’m tired of study. Some exercise
would do us all good.”
“Sounds like a fine idea to me,” Aaron said
enthusiastically, throwing down his pen and jumping up.
“I’ve finished my geometry and the rest of my lessons won’t take
that long. Come on, Adam,”
“I can’t,” Adam replied brusquely. “I’ve
got to finish this passage from The Odyssey.”
“I’ll help when we get back,” Thomas said winningly.
“I’ll manage,” Adam snapped.
“There’s no need to bite my head off,” Thomas
said in an affronted tone and Adam realized he’d been rude.
“Sorry, Thomas,” he said sincerely and Thomas
smiled slightly. “I guess I could use some help,” he admitted
reluctantly.
“After our walk. You’ll think more clearly
after you’ve gotten out of this stuffy room.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Adam replied with a wry
grin as he closed his book, straightened his papers and put them
neatly in a drawer before standing.
“You know, Adam, you need to work on accepting
assistance gracefully,” Thomas said teasingly as they strolled
through the Yard toward Old Cambridge.
“He may have grown up out west, but he’s still
got that hard-headed Yankee stubbornness,” Aaron laughed.
“Uh-yup,” Thomas agreed. “You can take
a Yankee out of New England, but he’s still a Yankee.”
“Oh, shut up,” Adam laughed as they sauntered
down Cambridge Street.
Chapter 2
The trees lost their leaves and only their
stark, bare branches were raised to the sky; the temperature
dropped and there was a damp chill perpetually in the air while
the sky seemed always to be gray and overcast. Often the icy
wind blowing off the Atlantic seemed to penetrate every layer of Adam’s
clothing to his very bones. He had never minded winter in the
Sierras, but the cold damp of a New England winter he found difficult
to take.
The last Saturday of October was unseasonably
cold so he put on his overcoat, jammed his broad-brimmed felt
hat on tightly and headed for the ferry. He realized he must
find Christmas gifts for the family and send them on their way if they
were to reach the Ponderosa by Christmas. First, he headed down
Boylston Street. He found a tobacconist shop where he bought some
fine Virginia tobacco for his father. He purchased a superbly crafted
new bridle for Beauty’s foal as a gift for Hoss. He couldn’t find
anything suitable for Joe or Hop Sing so he headed over to Newbury Street
where he found a toy store and wandered around happily trying to decide
which toy his little brother would enjoy the most. He finally settled
on a set of toy soldiers, some of which wore the redcoat of British
army during the Revolution while the remainder wore the either the blue
of the Continental army or were dressed as militiamen.
The set even included a couple of artillery pieces and George Washington
on a white stallion. By the time he’d completed the purchase, it
was noon and so he headed over to his grandfather’s for dinner and hoped
inspiration would strike him. On the way he passed The Old Corner
Bookstore at the corner of School and Washington. As he was browsing,
he discovered the latest novel by Herman Melville. His father
had enjoyed Redburn and so Adam thought he would like this
new work, Moby Dick , and bought a copy to send with the tobacco.
It occurred to him that his grandfather might also enjoy Melville so
he bought another copy for him. With great difficulty he resisted
buying a copy of Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter for himself but
couldn’t resist buying the latest of James Russell Lowell’s satirical
Biglow Papers .
As he and Captain Stoddard devoured large bowls
of clam chowder, he discussed his purchases and his difficulty
finding a gift for Hop Sing.
“I don’t think I can be much help, lad,” the
Captain said, taking a swig of cider. “No idea what a
Chinaman would like as a gift.”
“Excuse me,” Biddy, the Captain’s maid-of-all-work,
said nervously as she cleared away their bowls.
“Yes, girl?” the Captain growled.
“I was j-just thinking,” Biddy stammered.
“This Chinaman is your cook, isn’t he?”
“That’s right,” Adam agreed smiling at the
red-faced young woman.
“Well, I was thinking maybe you could find
some spices here that would be hard to get at your ranch.
I’ll bet he’d like those.”
“He would,” Adam replied, dimpling. “That’s
a wonderful idea, Biddy. If it’s all right with you, Grandfather,
I’ll go shopping again right after dinner. Then I’ll need
to get all the gifts ready to mail.”
“I’ll take care of mailing them for you,” the
Captain said with a smile. “I’m certain they’ll reach your
family in time for Christmas.”
Over the past months a routine had developed
where Aaron would stop by Captain Stoddard’s home and walk
with him to church and then have dinner at the Stoddard home with
the Captain and Adam. Polly and Biddy considered it a challenge
to put some meat on the bones of two young men they considered much
too skinny and the Captain enjoyed the company of both young men.
(He also noticed that Adam was less reserved in his friend’s company.)
The first Sunday in November, as the Captain,
Adam and Aaron gathered around the dining table for Sunday dinner,
the Captain announced, “Adam’s birthday is coming up on the
fourteenth. I’d like to have a birthday supper for him.
You’re invited of course, Aaron, and I thought, Adam, maybe you’d
like to invite a few others—your friend, Thomas, for example.”
“You don’t have to, Grandfather,” Adam replied
quietly and Aaron looked at him in surprise.
“I want to celebrate the birth of my only grandchild,”
the Captain said in an equally quiet voice. “Moreover,
I know it’s what your mother would want. Believe me, Adam.
She rejoiced at your birth,” and he paused, gazing unwaveringly
into Adam’s veiled eyes, “even knowing what it had cost her.”
Aaron remained silent, keeping his eyes focused
on his plate, but he didn’t have any difficulty deducing the
cause of the tension between the two men. The Captain saw
the dawning joy in his grandson’s often-unfathomable golden-brown
eyes and said gruffly, “So you invite your friends for supper
at seven. Just send me word so Polly and Biddy will know how
many to cook for.”
Adam’s birthday supper was a great success.
Along with Aaron and Thomas he invited two other freshmen enrolled
in the Scientific School: Fred Thompkins and Rob Fisher.
Polly and Biddy outdid themselves preparing a huge meal, which the
five young men consumed like a horde of ravening locusts, much to the
women’s delight. They toasted Adam with a vintage Burgundy the
Captain had kept for a special occasion. When the meal was over,
they all adjourned to the parlor where the Captain had Adam sit in his
armchair.
“I have a gift for Adam, and if what his father
writes me is true, it’s a gift we can all enjoy with him.”
He reached behind the settee and pulled out a guitar. “Thought
you could play some songs and we could all sing.”
Adam nodded, truly touched by his grandfather’s
present. “Thank you, Grandfather, it’s a wonderful gift,”
he said smiling warmly and the Captain was pleased he had selected
something that Adam truly appreciated. “Just let me tune
it and then we can sing.” They all waited patiently and when
he was ready Adam asked, “What shall we sing first? Do
you all know Oh Susanna ?”
Rob had a beautiful sweet tenor voice so he
and Adam led the singing with Adam sometimes singing harmony.
Oh Susanna was followed by Pop Goes the Weasel,
Green Grow the Lilacs and Wait for the Wagon .
Then with a teasing smile Adam said, “I have one I’d like to play
for my grandfather. If you don’t know it, you’ll pick it up,”
and he began singing What Shall We Do with a Drunken Sailor
? The others soon joined in. After all twelve verses, Adam and
his friends thanked the Captain for his hospitality and regretfully said
their good-byes. “Your grandfather is a capital fellow,” Fred remarked
as they walked toward the ferry. “Mine is a regular tartar.”
“Uh-yup, and it was splendid of him to invite
us to visit again,” added Rob. “The food is certainly better
than it is at the Commons, and there’s more of it.”
Adam replied with a grin, “That’s because Polly
and Biddy think Aaron and I need fattening up.”
“Which you certainly don’t, Rob,” Thomas said
poking him in the ribs, for Rob was definitely a bit stout.
“Do ya think there’ll be a letter from Adam?”
Little Joe asked for what Ben was sure was at least the 1,000th
time. He was definitely regretting his decision to take
both boys with him on his trip to Mormon Station for supplies
and the mail.
“Joseph, I have told you repeatedly that we
won’t know until we get to Mormon Station. Don’t ask me
again, young man!” Ben barked, his irritation obvious. He saw his
youngest son’s big green eyes, so like his mother’s, begin to fill with
tears and even his middle son looked downhearted. “I’m sorry, Joe,”
he said in a gentler tone. “I know you’re anxious to get a letter
from Adam—we all are—but you will just have to wait until we get to
the trading post. Understand?” and he gave the little boy’s
neck an affectionate squeeze.
Joe nodded and smiled just a little and Hoss
said wistfully, “Shore hope Adam got our gift in time for his
birthday.”
“I do, too, Hoss. I know he’ll be very
happy to get it,” Ben replied with a warm smile.
“Adam and me used to sing on the way.
Wanna sing, Joe?” Hoss asked his baby brother, who nodded his
head vigorously. Ben joined in, trying to keep them in tune,
but it was hopeless. Adam was definitely the musician in the
family and Ben missed hearing his rich baritone voice in the evenings,
leading the singing and accompanying them on the guitar.
Finally, they reached Mormon Station and Hoss
jumped off the wagon almost before Ben had stopped the team
and made for the trading post. While Ben and Joe were approaching
the building, Hoss came barreling out yelling, “There’s a letter
from Adam!” and waving it in the air. “Can we read it now,
Pa? Please,” and those pellucid blue eyes looked so pleading
that Ben bit off his refusal.
“All right. Is there just one?”
“Yeah, it’s addressed to the Cartwrights of
the Ponderosa Ranch,” Hoss replied handing the letter to his
father while Joe was literally jumping for joy.
“Joseph, stop that jumping or we’ll wait until
we get home to read Adam’s letter,” Ben said severely and Joe
immediately stopped. He and Hoss waited impatiently as
their father tore open the letter.
— 1854
Dear Family,
I hope you’ll forgive me for writing one letter
to all of you, but I just didn’t have time to write individual
letters and I figured you’d rather have one than wait until I had
time to write three.
First, I want to thank you so much for my gift.
I’ve put the daguerreotype of the three of you on my chest of
drawers so it’s the first thing I see when I wake up and the last
thing I see when I go to bed. I had a marvelous birthday.
Grandfather hosted a birthday supper for me and let me invite some
of my friends. We had a wonderful time and after the dinner, Grandfather
gave me his birthday present—a guitar. I played and we all
sang songs; it reminded me of all of you and the evenings we spent singing.
That really made me miss all of you, but I don’t think anyone else
knew I was sad. Grandfather wanted it to be a happy occasion
for me; he told me it was what Mother would have wanted. I wouldn’t
have disappointed him for anything. The fellows all liked him
very much. Maybe after I graduate, I can convince him to come back
home with me for a visit. I know you would like him, Hoss and
Joe, and he always asks me about you. I took the daguerreotype
with me to his house this weekend so he could see all of you. He
said he could see Joe was a little devil (What a perceptive man,
right, Pa?) He was surprised by how tall Hoss is, and he said you’d
gotten old, Pa, and wanted to know if I was responsible for your gray
hair. I said no; Hoss and I never caused you any problems.
All your gray hairs were caused by Joe.
Ben and Hoss laughed at this but
Joe looked confused. “What’s Adam mean, Pa?”
“Never you mind, Joe. Your brother is
only teasing.”
“But what’s he mean I made you have gray hair?”
“He means that you are mischievous and don’t
always do as you’re told.” Seeing Joe frown he added,
“Remember Adam is only teasing, Joe. He knows he caused
plenty of my gray hairs. Hoss even caused a few although not
as many as you and Adam, I’ll admit. Let’s get back to Adam’s
letter, okay?”
As much as I enjoy geometry, I
would have to say my English literature class is my favorite.
We finished The Canterbury Tales and now we’re studying
The Faerie Queene . Next we’ll study Hamlet
and King Lear . I’m also finding studying
The Odyssey in the original Greek challenging.
Thomas has been a real help when I’ve struggled with some passages and
I’ve been able to help Aaron with geometry. I think I would
enjoy history if it weren’t for the instructor.
I guess that’s all my news for now.
Affectionately yours.
Adam
“I’ll jest never understand how Adam can enjoy
all that studyin’,” Hoss said shaking his head in wonder.
“Pa, ain’t Adam too big to be readin’ fairy
stories?” Joe asked in genuine puzzlement.
“I think The Faerie Queene is written
for grown ups,” Ben replied. “I haven’t read it but I think
it’s really about Queen Elizabeth of England and her court.”
“Well, why didn’t he jest write about them?”
Hoss asked wrinkling his nose in puzzlement. “Why’d he
put fairies in the story?”
“I’m afraid I really don’t know,” Ben said
with a chuckle. “Why don’t you write Adam and ask him?”
“I guess I will,” Hoss said. “I still
say it beats me how he could rather read about queens and fairies
instead of bein’ here workin’ on the ranch.”
Just then Joe broke in with an engaging grin.
“Can we get some candy, Pa? Please?” and Ben nodded his
assent.
“There’s a package from Boston as well, Ben,”
Will Cass said while Hoss and Joe decided what kind of candy they
could get for the penny Ben had given each of them. “It got
here a week before the letter. I didn’t mention it to Hoss because
I thought it might be Christmas presents from Adam.”
“I appreciate it, Will. Think we could
load it with the supplies so the boys won’t notice it?”
“I think it’ll fit in an empty crate that used
to have canned peaches,” Will said with a wink. “Now,
let’s see your list of supplies.”
“So, Aaron, are you planning on traveling home
for Christmas?” Captain Stoddard asked one December afternoon
as the three men were roasting chestnuts in the parlor after a
huge meal topped off by apple brown betty with heavy cream.
“I’d like to, but I know it’s not practical
since I might get caught in a snowstorm,” Aaron replied dejectedly,
popping a chestnut in his mouth.
“Well, I’d like to invite you to spend Christmas
here with Adam and me. Thought we’d get one of those newfangled
German Christmas trees since Adam and his father have written me
that they always have one at their ranch.”
“That would be wonderful, Grandfather,” Adam
replied enthusiastically.
“I’ve heard of Christmas trees but we never
had one,” Aaron commented reaching for his mug of coffee.
“They’re lots of fun to decorate,” Adam stated
enthusiastically. “We can tie apples on the lower branches
and string popcorn, walnuts, and cranberries to wrap around
the entire tree. Marie,” and he paused for a moment suddenly
overwhelmed with sadness and had to blink back scalding tears,
“Marie and Hop Sing would bake gingerbread men cookies and tie them
on the branches. Maybe Polly and Biddy would bake some for
us. Hoss and Joe and I would cut snowflakes out of white paper
and hang them on the littlest branches. Finally you tie on
lighted candles. We only left the candles lit for a few minutes
because Pa thought they were too dangerous, but they are a lovely sight.”
“Putting lighted candles on a tree seems like
a sure way to start a fire, but I guess we could have a bucket
of water close by,” Captain Stoddard harrumped and the two young
men tried to hide their grins. “Polly and Biddy will cook
us a fine Christmas feast—roast turkey with oyster dressing and
giblet gravy, mince pies and plum pudding.”
“Stop, Grandfather. Have mercy.
It’s hard enough enduring the food at the Commons,” said Adam
with a wry grin.
The next Sunday Adam walked hurriedly from
the Stoddard home to the Park Street Church, wool scarf wrapped
around his neck and overcoat collar turned up against the northeaster
Boston was experiencing. As he was slipping into his choir robe,
two of the young female choir members approached him shyly.
“Um, Emma and I were just wondering if you
were planning on caroling on Christmas Eve,” Julia Quincy said
in a shy, rather breathless voice, and Adam felt his breathing quicken
at the sight of her soft brown eyes. He was only peripherally
aware of Emma Hastings’ small, plump figure standing beside her.
“Most of the other choir members do every year,” Julia continued.
“We meet at the Boston Common with other church choirs and anyone else
who wishes to participate right at sundown. After the caroling, we
all meet at Reverend Stockton’s house for hot chocolate and gingerbread,
and we play Snapdragon and Truth.”
“Truth?”
“It’s a game. The person who is It
has to answer any question truthfully. It’s great fun,”
Julia answered.
“All right. I’d like to go caroling,”
Adam replied. “And my friend Aaron can come as well?”
“Of course,” Emma Hastings interjected.
“We’ll look forward to seeing you both.”
“We’re going to practice this afternoon, and
you and your friend are welcome to come,” Julia added with
a shy smile.
“I’d like to come, but I’ll have to check with
Aaron," said Adam with a shy smile of his own.
When Adam told Aaron about the caroling on
their walk home from church, he was skeptical. “Adam,
you know I croak like a bullfrog,” he protested.
“Nonsense, my boy,” the Captain spoke up before
Adam could even open his mouth. “You can’t have a worse
voice than mine, but I used to enjoy caroling when I was your age.
Who knows, you might get a chance to steal a kiss from a pretty
girl under the kissing ball afterward,” and he laughed loudly at
their red faces.
Then the Captain said, “I received a letter
from your parents, Aaron, thanking me for inviting you to spend
Christmas with me and Adam. Said I should be receiving a package
from them between now and Christmas,” and he chuckled as he saw
the boy’s eyes light up. “A package all the way from Utah Territory
arrived back on Wednesday,” he added winking at his grandson and was
rewarded by the sight of Adam’s deep dimple.
“I think I’ll just pretend to sing,” Aaron
said as they walked to the church carrying the lanterns they’d
need for the return journey. “You know, just move my lips
but not make any sound. What do you think?”
“You could just stand by me and sing softly,”
Adam suggested. “You don’t sound any worse than Hoss does.
Of course, that isn’t saying much,” he smirked.
“Very funny,” Aaron retorted, giving him a
shove. Then he looked up. “It’s snowing Adam!”
“Yeah, we’d best hurry,” Adam replied looking
at the sky.
Aaron was relieved to see that he wasn’t the
only person there who was not part of the choir. He stuck
by Adam and sang very quietly. Adam was very glad he’d come because
in addition to traditional Christmas carols such as Hark the
Herald Angels Sing, Joy to the World, God Rest YouMerry Gentlemen
and Silent Night , there was one new carol he’d never
heard: It Came Upon a Midnight Clear, which had been
written by an American a few years earlier. When the practice ended,
they all stepped outside to discover the snow was still falling and
everything was covered by and inch or two of pure white snow, looking
like frosting on a cake. The young men (and even some of the older
ones) couldn't resist scooping up the fresh snow and packing it into
snowballs while the women began building a snowman. Only the setting
of the sun broke up the fun. Adam and Aaron lit their lanterns and
made their way back to Captain Stoddard’s house where they planned to
spend the night. They would then catch the first ferry across the
Charles and be back at the college in plenty of time for their geometry
class.
“Aaron, look!” Adam exclaimed the next morning,
running into his friend’s bedroom, carrying his trousers over
one arm, and flinging open the shutters. “There must be
over a foot of snow!”
“I guess we’d better hurry and shovel your
grandfather’s walk for him,” Aaron said shivering as he stood
barefoot by Adam at the window.
“Yeah, but I hope he stays home today.
He shouldn’t be out in that snow,’ Adam said worriedly as he
pulled his trousers on over his long woolen drawers. “I’ll
get our shaving water,” he said over his shoulder as he slipped out
the door. He returned a few minutes later with a pitcher of
hot water and the two young men proceeded to lather their faces and
sharpen their razors before shaving. As they shaved they could
smell the aroma of fresh-brewed coffee and knew that Polly and Biddy
must have arrived.
“Think we can get a cup of coffee before we
start shoveling?” Aaron asked and Adam replied, “I don’t see
why not.” Biddy poured them each a cup, which they drank
hurriedly before putting on their scarves, gloves and overcoats.
They shoveled quickly, their noses and ears growing red from the cold.
“Wish I had one of those caps with earflaps
I used to wear as a boy,” Adam commented.
“Me, too,” Aaron replied. “Or a wool
stocking cap. Hats don’t keep your ears warm, that’s for
sure.”
As soon as she heard the boys on the mud porch,
Biddy began dishing up plates of sausage, eggs and popovers.
“Thanks, Biddy,” they said as they came into the dining room
rubbing their cold hands, their ears and noses cherry-red from the
cold. “We’ve got to eat fast because it’s going to take longer
than we planned to get to the ferry,” Adam added.
The Captain came in then and overhearing the
remark said, “With this much snow, the ferry may be running
late. You might do better to just walk over the West Boston
Bridge.”
“Let’s take our popovers with us and eat them
on the way,” Adam suggested and Aaron nodded his agreement, his
mouth being occupied with chewing his breakfast.
Adam and Aaron gulped down their breakfast
and a second cup of coffee before hurrying to put their overcoats
and scarves back on and then tromped into the dining room and
grabbed their popovers.
“We’ll see you on Christmas Eve, Grandfather,”
Adam called as he and Aaron hurried out the front door.
“Wish I’d worn my boots instead of Balmorals,”
Adam muttered as he and Aaron fought their way through wet,
heavy snow and a driving wind. “Even wearing two pairs
of socks, my feet are cold.”
“You can say that again,” Aaron agreed.
“I’m afraid my toes are going to freeze before we get to the Yard.”
They were so cold when they arrived at the
college that they went back to their room to warm up.
They missed their first two classes but made it to the third.
After dinner the underclassmen had snowball fights and built snowmen
until their fingers and toes grew numb with cold.
The days until Christmas Eve passed quickly
and Adam and Aaron packed their valises and set off for Captain
Stoddard’s home. Biddy was waiting and insisted on taking
the bags upstairs so they could leave with the Captain to get their
Christmas tree. The Captain and Aaron deferred to Adam’s
expertise and let him select the tree while Polly and Biddy began
popping popcorn. (At Adam’s request they’d already purchased
a large amount of cranberries and walnuts.)
“You two rascals are putting more popcorn in
your bellies than you are on the string,” Captain Stoddard
scolded half in jest and half in earnest as the three gathered
in the Stoddard parlor in their shirtsleeves, sans neckties,
to decorate the Christmas tree. Polly and Biddy sat in another
corner busily tying red ribbons on apple stems so they could be tied
on the branches.
“Don’t scold the lads, Captain,” Polly said
sternly. “Biddy can easily make more popcorn,” and Biddy
nodded vigorously.
“No, Grandfather is right,” Adam replied with
a sheepish grin. “I always tease Hoss about eating more
than he strings.” His smile dimmed then replaced by a wave
of homesickness.
“I’m certain they’re missing you as well,”
Captain Stoddard said quietly. “I suppose they are decorating
their tree about now.”
“Yeah,” Adam said quietly. He made an
effort then to smile for his grandfather’s sake. “I’ll
have to write them all about our tree.”
“Why don’t you draw them a sketch of us working
on the decorations,” Aaron suggested. “The Captain and
I can string on our own.” He was feeling homesick as well
but also didn’t want to disappoint Captain Stoddard.
“I think I will, and I’ll make a copy for your
family” Adam said enthusiastically. He went and got his
sketchbook and perched on the stairs where he could view the
entire parlor. His pencil flew over the sheet showing the
bare fir tree in front of the bay window, the two women in the
corner each with a bowl of apples in her lap and bright red ribbons
draped over her chair, and the sofa where the Captain and Aaron sat
at either end with bowls of popcorn, cranberries and walnuts on the
table in front of them and a growing string piled on the floor.
“After you finish, I’ll add you to the sketch,”
Aaron said with a grin and Adam nodded. He was lost in
his drawing when he heard Aaron say, “We’re almost done here.
Let’s trade places.” When Aaron finished, he held up the
completed sketch and they all admired it. Then he suggested
sketching them as they wound the string around the tree and tied on
the apples, and he moved into the parlor so that he could concentrate
on Adam as he directed the others.
“All right, enough sketching,” the Captain
commanded after they finished wrapping the string and had most
of the apples tied on. “You and Adam can sketch the finished
tree for your families. Right now we need to finish hanging
the apples and add the gingerbread men.”
“Then we need to cut out snowflakes to put
on the smallest branches and a star to place on the top,” Adam
stated. “This tree will be as fine as any I’ve ever seen.”
“And if we’re to finish before you two leave
to go caroling, we’d best get back to work,” the Captain added.
He had to admit the tree was a beautiful sight
when it was finished. “I think it’s time to put the gifts
under it,” he said with a broad smile. “I expect you can
be trusted to keep your hands off them until tomorrow morning.
Right?” and they nodded eagerly.
“Actually, we have some gifts to go under the
tree as well,” Adam said with a smirk. “Come on, Aaron,”
and they headed upstairs to their bedrooms, while the Captain
headed for the cellar where he’d stashed the gifts their families
had sent.
“Now, you lads need to bundle up; don’t want
you catching your deaths,” the Captain said as Adam and Aaron
were at the front door ready to go caroling.
“Grandfather, we are each wearing two pairs
of socks, two pairs of drawers and two undershirts. We’ll
be fine,” Adam replied, rolling his eyes while Aaron smirked.
“Just make sure you wrap your scarves around
your necks and wear your hats,” the Captain replied gruffly.
He remembered Benjamin writing him that Adam was susceptible to
chest colds.
“Yes, Grandmother,” Adam replied ducking
as the Captain reached up to playfully box his ears.
“Off with you lads and have a wonderful time.
Give the girls a kiss from me, eh?” he called as they set off
for Boston Common.
Adam enjoyed the caroling tremendously and
even Aaron felt brave enough to actually sing, albeit softly.
When the caroling was over, they adjourned with the rest of the
Park Street Church choir to the parsonage. Adam was standing
with Aaron drinking hot chocolate when he noticed Julia Quincy and
two of her friends were staring at him and giggling. He started
to ask Aaron if there was anything wrong with his appearance when the
three girls walked over to them. Emma Hastings (who barely stood
as high as Adam’s shoulder) walked right up to him, stood on tiptoe,
and placing her hands on his shoulders and pushing him down, kissed him
right on the mouth. No sooner did she kiss him than auburn-haired
Louisa Phelps walked over and kissed him. Adam’s cheeks were beginning
to burn but he waited to see if the lovely Julia was also going to kiss
him. She smiled shyly before she too placed a quick kiss on his
lips.
“All right, Cartwright. Let someone else
stand under the kissing ball,” one of the other men laughed
and Adam’s face flushed scarlet when he looked up and saw he
was indeed standing directly under the kissing ball. He had
to put up with a lot of good-natured teasing until everyone was absorbed
with playing Snapdragon. Adam burned his fingers but Aaron
turned out to be a champion.
“I’ve played Snapdragon since I was a nipper,”
he told Adam grinning. “It just takes practice.”
Next it was time to play Truth. Julia
was the first chosen as It. “Who is the handsomest
man here?” Emma asked with a saucy grin. Julia’s cheeks
burned but Emma only said insistently, “You must answer truthfully.”
“Adam Cartwright,” Julia whispered but Adam
heard and felt himself grinning exultantly. He had hoped
Julia felt the same attraction for him that he felt for her,
and now he knew!
When it was his turn to be It and Aaron
slyly asked which girl he thought was the prettiest, he answered
without hesitation, “Julia Quincy.” He was gazing
into her eyes, so he didn’t see the disappointed looks on some of
the other faces. He was startled when Julia asked him a question.
“After you graduate, what do you plan to do?”
“Go back home and use what I learned to improve
our ranch,” he replied and thought he saw a look of chagrin
on her face.
“D’ya think Adam has a tree as beautiful as
ours at his grandfather’s house?” Joe asked as the three Cartwrights
stepped back to admire their newly decorated tree.
“I don’t know,” Ben answered, giving Joe’s
shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “When Adam and I spent
Christmas at his grandfather’s, we didn’t have a tree.”
“You spent Christmas with Adam’s grandfather?”
Hoss asked in surprise.
“Your brother and I spent his first two Christmases
in Boston with his grandfather.”
“Tell us about it, Pa,” Joe said excitedly,
tugging on Ben’s hand. “Please,” and he smiled his most
winning smile.
“There’s not much to tell,” Ben replied evasively
but seeing the disappointment on both his sons’ faces he managed
a faint smile. “All right, let’s sit on the settee and
I’ll tell you what I remember.”
Joe climbed on Ben’s lap and Hoss sat right
next to Ben. This is going to be a difficult Christmas
, Ben thought as he put an arm around Hoss’s shoulders and
hugged Joe with the other, with Marie gone and Adam far away
in Massachusetts.
“Tell us about Adam’s first Christmas,” Joe
demanded.
“Adam was just a little baby then, not even
two months old. He was too little to understand about Christmas
or Christmas stockings or Christmas gifts. About all babies
do at that age is sleep and eat.”
“And dirty their diapers,” Hoss added wrinkling
his nose as Ben smiled.
“If you didn’t have a Christmas tree and Adam
didn’t have a Christmas stocking or Christmas presents, what
did you do?” Joe asked in a puzzled tone.
“We went to church on Christmas Eve.
Not Adam though,” Ben added hastily. “His grandfather
and I didn’t want to take him out in the cold so we left him
at home with the housekeeper.”
“It doesn’t sound like Adam had a very merry
first Christmas,” Joe said dejectedly. Then he looked
curiously at Ben and said, “What about Adam’s mama? Didn’t
she do anything for him at Christmas?’
Hoss looked anxiously at his father’s face
then, knowing he always became very sad when he thought about
Adam’s mother. Ben was silent for a few moments and then
he said quietly, “Adam’s mother was dead, Joe. She died
right after Adam was born, remember? She never got to spend
a Christmas with him.”
“Never?” Joe said, his emerald eyes enormous.
“Not even one?’
“Not even one,” Ben replied and the two boys
heard the pain in his voice. “Hoss and his mother never
got to spend a Christmas together either, but Adam and I had
one Christmas with her.”
Joe’s eyes were bright with unshed tears as
he said in a quavering voice, “I guess I’m lucky ‘cause I got
to spend lots of Christmases with my mama.”
“You are lucky,” Ben said gently, kissing his
soft cheek, “but Adam, Hoss and I had lots of merry Christmases,
didn’t we?”
“Shore did,” Hoss replied feeling happier and
smiling his gap-toothed grin. “I remember the Christmas
Adam got his rifle.”
“Oh yes,” Ben said with a straight face.
“That was the Christmas he was twelve, wasn’t it?”
“Just like Hoss is. Think Santa Claus
will bring Hoss a rifle?” Joe asked brightly.
“I don’t know,” Ben replied aiming a huge grin
at his middle son. “I’m afraid I’m not privy to Santa
Claus’s secrets.” And he winked broadly at Hoss.
“Pa,” Hoss said his expression now serious.
“That Christmas you and Adam and my mama had together—did you
have a Christmas tree and stockings and presents?’
“Adam had a stocking full of nuts, an apple
and even an orange. First one he ever had if I remember
right. His eyes were as big and round as saucers when he
woke up Christmas morning and saw his stocking and his gifts sitting
on his chest of drawers. He got a present from your mama and
me, one from his grandfather and one from Santa Claus. He was
so happy, happier than I’d ever seen him before,” and a wistfulness
crept into Ben’s voice.
“What did you and Hoss’s mama give him?” Joe
asked curiously.
Ben smiled fondly as he answered, “Inger knitted
him a new pair of mittens, and a scarf. Santa brought
him a new cap with earflaps and his grandfather sent him a picture
book—Beauty and the Beast I think it was that year but
it might have been Puss in Boots.”
“Poor Adam always gets books for presents,”
Joe said wrinkling his nose.
“Shucks, Adam loves gittin’ books, Joe,” Hoss
chuckled. “I bet there’s nobody else in the whole world
who loves books like Adam does.”
“Well, as much as Adam liked his Christmas
gifts, I think your mama was the best gift I could have given
him. He loved her so much.”
“He loved my mama, too, didn’t he?” Joe asked
in a troubled voice.
“Of course he did,” Ben replied with a reassuring
smile. “But he was the same age Hoss is now when I married
your mama and he didn’t need a mother in the same way he did when
he was your age and I married Hoss’s mama. But, to get back to
that Christmas. We didn’t have a tree. Your mama, Hoss,
told us about how Christmas was celebrated in Sweden when she
was a little girl. She explained that a couple of weeks before
Christmas, on St. Lucia’s day, the youngest daughter in a family
puts on a white dress and a crown of evergreens with lighted candles
attached, wakes her parents and serves them Lucia buns. She was
the only daughter so she had done that ever since she could remember.
On Christmas Eve, she fixed us a Christmas ham, pickled pigs’ feet, and
a special kind of rice porridge with an almond hidden in it. Whoever
finds the almond is supposed to marry during the coming year. Adam
got the almond and he was quite insistent that he was not getting married,”
Ben said with a chuckle. “Let me see Your mother also made
a special kind of gingerbread cookie shaped like a goat.
“We never had a Christmas tree until we were
living here in this cabin. A German immigrant family that
traded with us told us about Christmas trees and Adam wanted to
have one,” Ben said reminiscently.
“Didn’t I want one?” Hoss asked.
“You were only about two then and anything
your big brother thought was a good idea was good enough for
you,” Ben replied smiling at Hoss, who smiled back. “Adam
and I strung popcorn and you ate it faster than we could string
it so I kept having to stop and pop more. I remember Adam took
most of the apples we’d gotten in Placerville and hung them on the
branches. Santa Claus brought you each a present and you each
had a stocking full of nuts and an orange.” He smiled warmly
at Hoss and reached over and squeezed his neck affectionately.
“I will never forget the expression on your face and Adam’s when you
came out and saw your gifts under the tree.”
He stopped and ruffled Joe’s honey-blond curls
then. “Your mama introduced us to some French Christmas
customs. She began baking the Three Kings Cake; we’d never
done that before.”
“That’s right. It was Mama who showed
us that,” Hoss said smiling.
“And she was the one who began hanging cookies
on the tree,” Ben added. “And now Hop Sing has baked
us cookies to hang on the tree and he’ll bake a Three Kings Cake
just like your mama did,” Ben said to Joe. “If we could find
someone who had a recipe for your mama’s rice porridge, then Hop
Sing would make that as well,” he said to Hoss.
“And we’ll still read The Night Before Christmas
, right?” Joe asked.
“Of course we will,” Ben replied, hugging him.
“That’s been a tradition since Adam and I spent our first Christmas
traveling west. And I’ll read the Christmas story.
But right now I think we’d better get started on our evening
chores so we’ll be ready for supper.”
The weather kept the Cartwrights confined to
the ranch for much of January. Hoss was happy that he
couldn’t attend school. He and Joe spent much of their
time playing in the snow although he still had his regular chores
such as chopping kindling and helping to feed and water the stock
and muck out stalls. Joe was responsible for feeding the chickens
and pigs, filling the wood box and, with assistance from Hoss,
he cared for his little dun pony, Buttermilk. Adam’s mare,
Beauty, and his own little blue roan mare, Sugar, were Hoss’s special
responsibilities. Beauty was nearly ready to foal so he
spent extra time with her, brushing her and talking to her.
He was hoping her foal would be a colt, one that he could raise
as a replacement for Sugar, who at twenty was ready to be put out to
pasture. Beauty and the foal’s sire were each over fifteen hands
high so Hoss was sure the foal would be big enough to be his mount.
Poor Sugar was only a little over fourteen hands high, which was another
reason Pa agreed that he would need another mount soon.
“Guess you miss Adam, too, don’t ya, girl?”
he said one morning as he curried the pretty chestnut mare.
The mare whickered as if in answer and Hoss chuckled. “Guess
he probably didn’t get my last letter yet tellin’ him that I got
a rifle for Christmas. That and the purty bridle he got for
yer foal were my fav’rite gifts. And Joe shore likes those
soldiers he got. It was real nice of Adam’s grandfather to
send us that daguerreotype of him and Adam. You wouldn’t recognize
Adam, Beauty, in those city clothes. Pa says he dressed like
that every day when he lived in Boston. Jest cain’t picture
it though.
“Adam sounds so happy in his letters that sometimes
I worry that he’ll decide to stay there in Boston. We’d
really miss him, wouldn’t we, girl? Pa misses him a lot,
too. He don’t say much, but I can see it in his eyes.
Things jest ain’t the same with Adam and Mama gone. Now we
never sing in the evenings like we used to and Pa’s so busy with the
books that he ain’t hardly got time to read Joe bedtime stories like
Mama and Adam used to do. I tried but I’m jest not a good reader
and I could tell Little Joe’d rather have Pa. I cain’t even help
Pa with the books ‘cause I’m not good at cipherin’ like Adam. I’m
not sayin’ Adam’s smarter than Pa, but he shore could do the books lots
quicker.
“Oh, he could, could he?” and Hoss jumped at
the sound of Ben’s voice causing Beauty to toss her head back
and roll her eyes. “Didn’t mean to startle you, son,” Ben
said with a friendly smile. “And you’re right. Adam could
balance the books in half the time it takes me. He gets it from
his mother; she was also good with numbers.”
“I didn’t think girls was good at arithmetic,”
Hoss said in surprise.
“It depends on the girl,” Ben replied.
“Your mother was pretty good at it, too.” He chuckled
then saying, “I think you must take after me when it comes to
arithmetic,” and he was pleased to see his son’s huge grin.
“Now, young man, Hop Sing says he’s taking the next boat to China
if we don’t sit down at the table immediately.”
“Okay,” Hoss replied putting up the curry brush
and comb. “I’d like to check on Beauty after breakfast
though. I think her time is real close.”
“All right,” Ben said with a sigh as they walked
back to the cabin. “Maybe Joseph will play quietly with
his soldiers while Hop Sing cleans up. But you know your brother
expects you to play with him since you’re not going to school.
If you think Beauty might foal today, then I’ll have Jose work
on getting the tack room in order so he’ll be close by,” and he was
rewarded by his son’s grateful smile.
That evening when Ben returned from taking
hay to the stock in the south pasture, two excited boys greeted
him. “Beauty had her foal!” Little Joe hollered before Hoss
could even open his mouth. He glared at his unrepentant younger
brother before adding, “It’s a colt, Pa. He’s a dark bay with a white
blaze on his face. Want to see him?”
“Sure,” Ben replied with a grin. “Go
put your coat on.”
“Me, too,” Joe announced but Ben said firmly,
“No, Joseph. Beauty won’t want a lot of people near her
foal just yet. You can see the colt in a few days.”
“No! I want to see the foal today!” and
Joe stamped his foot defiantly.
“Joseph,” Ben said in the voice all his sons
recognized.
“Please, Pa,” he begged and his green eyes
began to swim with tears.
“No, Joseph, and if you ask me again, we’re
going to have a necessary talk. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” Joe replied sullenly and stomped
over to where his soldiers were spread on the floor in battle
formation. Ben sighed. Sometimes his youngest son
reminded him very much of his eldest.
“I already wrote a letter to Adam so I can
mail it the next time we go to Mormon Station,” Hoss said happily
as they walked to the barn.
“If the weather holds, I plan on going tomorrow.
Hop Sing says we need flour and baking soda and salt.”
“Some o’ them canned peaches ‘d be mighty nice,”
Hoss suggested. “And maybe some lemon drops?”
“Maybe,” Ben agreed with a twinkle in his eye.
They approached Beauty’s stall and Ben saw a fine looking colt
nursing.
“I told Beauty she done good,” Hoss said beaming
proudly.
“She did well indeed,” Ben said. “I think
the colt will make you a fine mount. Thought of a name
yet?”
“Not yet. It’s got to be the right name.”
They stood side by side in companionable silence marveling at
the miracle before them. Ben was surprised when Hoss broke
the silence. “Pa, do ya ever think that maybe Adam might
decide to stay in Boston?”
Ben started to offer an empty reassurance but
something in Hoss’s face stopped him. “Yes, Hoss, I think
that might happen.”
“Then why’d ya let him go? I mean, I
know Mama wanted it but ” and his voice trailed off.
“You know your older brother and you know how
much he wanted to go to college. If I had forbidden him,
what do you think would have happened?”
Hoss was silent, considering. When he
replied it was in a quiet, troubled voice. “I think when
he was twenty-one, he would’ve left, and there’d ‘ve been no way
to stop him. He most likely wouldn’t never come back neither
except maybe for a visit.”
“You are very wise for a boy that’s only twelve,”
Ben said looking into the clear, trusting blue eyes that reminded
him so much of Inger’s. “And you know your older brother
very well, for that’s exactly what I thought. You see, Hoss,
when you love someone—really love him—you want what is best for him.
It was best that Adam have an opportunity to expand his education
and to meet his grandfather. I hope and pray that your brother
will come back to us, but it has to be because it’s what he wants.
It would be terrible if he came back out of a sense of duty and all
the time he were wishing he was back East.”
Hoss slowly exhaled and then said sadly, “Yeah,
you’re right, Pa.” Then his face brightened and he said,
“Adam loves the Ponderosa and he loves us. I think he’ll
want to come back.”
A few weeks later Paul Martin dropped by with
another letter from Adam. “I was hoping I’d be invited
to stay and hear what Adam has to say,” he said grinning at Ben as
he handed him the letter.”
“Of course, Paul, of course. We’re just
getting ready for dinner and then we’ll read the letter.”
“Aw Pa, can’t we read Adam’s letter first?”
Joe whined.
“Joseph,” Ben said sternly but he was surprised
when Hop Sing spoke up saying, “Dinner can wait until read Mista
Adam’s letter, Mr. Cartwright.”
“All right with you, Paul?” and the doctor
nodded with a slight smile, for he was as surprised as Ben by
the cook’s words.
— 1855
Dear Family,
Next time I’ll try to write letters to each
of you but I wanted to get this letter off as soon as possible.
Thank you so much for my Christmas presents. Hop Sing’s gingersnaps
were still delicious even after traveling all that distance.
Aaron and I have just about finished them off now. We were
greedy and we didn’t share them with anyone else. Joe, I really like
my new shaving mug. My doeskin gloves are the envy of all
my friends, Hoss. It was clever of you to find a pair of my
old gloves to use as a pattern. Pa, I’ve begun keeping my journal.
It will be interesting years from now to go back and read my thoughts
when I was a student. Grandfather got Aaron and me each a copy
of Webster’s Dictionary—a most useful and appreciated gift. I thought
he might also enjoy Moby Dick so I got him a copy as well and
we are reading it aloud when I visit. Aaron bought him a bottle
of port and his mother sent him a pair of slippers that she’d made.
(Aaron and I had managed to trace a pair of his boots and sent the
pattern to her.) Grandfather was really touched by her gift but
he tried to hide it.
We had a wonderful Christmas. Grandfather
and Aaron had never seen a Christmas tree before, but they enjoyed
decorating ours and Aaron says he’s going to write his family
and suggest they have one next year. Christmas Eve Aaron
and I went caroling and then there was a party afterward.
I forgot to watch where I stood and was surprised when three girls walked
up and kissed me. Then I found out I was standing under the
kissing ball. I was embarrassed but I enjoyed the kisses, especially
Julia’s.
“Ewww, Adam kissed a
girl!” Joe said in horror while Hoss blushed, Paul and Hop Sing
grinned and Ben looked discomfited.
“Let’s get back to Adam’s letter,” he said
huffily.
Christmas Day Polly and
Biddy cooked us a regular feast. (Grandfather had them
each take a third of the turkey home to their families as his Christmas
gift to them.) We served ourselves and Aaron and I did the
washing up as our Christmas gift to Polly and Biddy.
This term is completed. (The final examination
is just before summer vacation, and I’ll know my standing then.)
My new classes have started and I’m happy to report that none
of these professors is as boring as my history professor was.
This term I am taking trigonometry, English grammar, astronomy, and
Spanish. (I am glad modern languages are offered; if I am going
to learn a language, I want to be able to actually use it.
I am at a bit of an advantage since thanks to Jose I already know a
little Spanish.) English grammar isn’t as interesting as English
literature, but I’m sure I’ll do just as well.
Thomas has managed to obtain invitations for
Aaron and me to a ball in Boston where we can dance and flirt
with the young ladies. Aaron is nervous and I guess
I am just a little. I am certain that polite society here
is stricter than it was in San Francisco, but I am looking forward
to dancing with some pretty girls. (And I won’t forget Marie’s
instruction to be sure and dance with the girls no one else asks.
I don’t know which is worse: Having to screw up your courage and ask
a girl to dance or having to wait and pray that someone will ask you.)
I am hoping that Julia Quincy will be at the party. She is very
pretty and from the brief conversations we’ve had she seems more interesting
than many of the girls I’ve met, who have nothing on their minds but
clothes and who is getting married.
Affectionately yours,
Adam
“I’m glad Adam liked my
present. What’s a dicshunry?” Joe asked.
“Dictionary, Joseph. It’s a book that
lists all the words in a language and tells you what they mean
and how to spell them. A very appropriate gift for two young
scholars.”
“Huh?” and Ben and Paul had to smile at the
puzzled looks on the two boys’ faces.
“Your father means a dictionary was an excellent
gift for Adam and his friend.”
“That was real nice of Aaron’s mother to make
slippers for Adam’s grandfather,” Hoss commented.
“Yes, it was. I imagine Aaron’s parents
were very thankful to the Captain for inviting him to spend Christmas
with them since he couldn’t travel home.”
“Hey, Pa!” Hoss said excitedly, “there’s more
pages in the envelope!” He pulled out three additional
sheets of paper and read, “Here are some sketches Aaron and I made
for our families of our Christmas tree.” He unfolded the other
sheets and said with delight, “Look! They did have a tree and
they’re stringin’ the popcorn jest like we do!”
“Lemme see!” Joe demanded. “Lookee, Pa,
that’s Adam! And that must be Aaron and that’s Adam’s
grandfather!” Ben, Paul and Hop Sing crowded around the boys
to see the drawings.
“Mista Aaron too skinny,” Hop Sing said shaking
his head. “When Mista Adam come home, he need bring friend
so Hop Sing can fatten up,” and Ben and Paul hid their smiles behind
their hands.
“It’s a nice tree, but not as nice as ours,”
Joe decided.
“Remember, Adam wrote that it was the first
Christmas tree Aaron and his grandfather had ever seen,” Paul
commented.
“I reckon that’s why in the picture Adam is
tellin’ everyone where to put things. Course,” Hoss added
with a big grin, “Adam does enjoy bein’ bossy.” He only laughed
when his father playfully cuffed his head.
Adam did his best to examine his appearance
in his shaving mirror. He’d grown three-quarters of an
inch since he’d been at Harvard and now stood 6’ ¾” and
he was pleased to observe he had a man’s physique rather than
a boy’s. He’d chosen the black dress coat and trousers that
he’d had made since he arrived in Cambridge, a dove-gray silk waistcoat
and a black silk tie. After straightening his tie, he decided
his appearance was satisfactory and turned to see how Aaron was
progressing. Poor Aaron’s dove-gray dress coat didn’t hang as
well on his thin angular frame but that was probably because Shelburne
Falls’ tailors were not as skillful as Boston’s. He’d chosen
a waistcoat of scarlet brocade embroidered in emerald and gold.
A bit too colorful for Adam’s taste, but probably perfectly acceptable.
He only wished Aaron had not used quite so much pomade on his hair.
There was a knock on their door and Thomas
walked in, wearing a dress coat of charcoal-gray with gray-striped
trousers and a waistcoat of silvery gray embroidered in black.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“Just let us get our gloves,” Adam answered
and he slipped on a pair of white kid while Aaron put on a pair
of gray kid.
“Uh, Aaron, only white are acceptable at a
formal occasion, but I have a spare pair you can use,” Thomas
said kindly. Aaron stared at Thomas’s small slender hands
and then his large ones in dismay.
“I think it would be better if I loaned Aaron
a pair,” Adam interjected quickly and was rewarded by a smile
from his friend.
Thomas had rented a carriage so the three of
them could arrive at the ball in style. As soon as he
entered the room, Adam looked for Julia Quincy. He spotted
her, looking lovely in a gown of dark green taffeta that bared
her milky white shoulders. Her golden-brown hair was done
up in a knot at the back while long ringlets framed her heart-shaped
face. She seemed to sense his regard for she looked his direction
and their eyes locked before she looked away, a faint blush on her
cheeks. He quickly made his excuses to his friends and walked
over to Julia.
“I see our Romeo has found his Juliet,” Thomas
murmured to Aaron.
“He’s been worrying all week about whether
he’d have a chance to dance with her and talk with her,” Aaron
replied with a grin. “There would have been no living
with him if she hadn’t been here.”
“Well, let me introduce you to our hostess
and then some of the young ladies,” Thomas said with an answering
grin.
Julia was speaking with two other young men
so Adam had to wait his turn. “I hope you saved room on
your dance card for me, Miss Quincy,” he said softly.
“I believe I do have some openings, Mr. Cartwright,”
she replied looking at him through half-lowered lashes.
“Yes, I see you have a waltz and a polka.
May I?” he asked a little nervously. His apprehension
transformed to joy when she nodded her assent. He had no chance
to say more because there were other young men wanting to speak
with her, so he looked about at the other young ladies. There
was a lovely blonde—just a little plump but very well endowed—to whom
his grandfather had introduced him. He searched his memory
for her name. Sophie, that was it. He strolled over and
claimed her as a partner for the Virginia reel. He spied Thomas,
who introduced him to a slender, sloe-eyed brunette named Mae and
a jolly girl named Harriet with curly ash-brown hair and bright blue
eyes that reminded him of Hoss’s. He signed Mae’s dance card
for a mazurka and Harriet’s for another reel. He was free for
the opening dance and as the music began, he glanced around for girls
with no partners. He decided to ask a tall, skinny, freckle-faced
girl with flaming red hair.
“Excuse me, miss,” he said bowing slightly.
“I know we haven’t been formally introduced, but I’m Adam Cartwright.”
“Elsie Wilder,” she said breathlessly, her
face as red as her hair. Surely, this handsome young
man won’t ask me to dance, will he?
“May I have the honor of this dance?” he said
displaying his deep dimple.
“Oh yes!” she replied positively beaming at
him and revealing two dimples of her own.
It was a quadrille, not one of Adam’s favorite
dances, but he managed all right and was pleased to see how
happy his partner was. He was even more pleased when Aaron
approached them afterward and asked Miss Wilder for a dance.
He had to hide a smile because they were both so tall and thin that
he thought it would be like seeing two beanpoles dance.
This was his dance with Mae, who proved to
be a graceful and energetic dancer. However, he found
himself watching for Julia and he felt a twinge of jealousy when
he saw her smiling at her partner. He forced himself to concentrate
on his own partner, who really was quite lovely.
Next was his dance with the buxom Sophie and
he was sorry he had her for the Virginia reel, which didn’t
allow him to be close to her although he still managed to steal
glances at her abundant charms. He decided he wanted a break
from dancing but he saw several wallflowers so he approached a chubby
girl dressed in a very fussy gown that was most unflattering, introduced
himself and asked her to dance. It was the first waltz of the
evening and he definitely regretted his choice for the young woman had
applied her cologne liberally and in the heat of the ballroom it was
overwhelming. She also tried to be closer to him than was proper,
managing to brush her bosom against his chest. He disengaged
himself as soon as politeness permitted and headed for the punchbowl.
“It looks like you are determined to dance
with every wallflower,” Thomas told him with a grin.
“I’m just trying to be polite,” Adam replied.
“And you don’t care who your partner is if
it’s not the fair Julia, right?’
Adam grinned sheepishly then asked, “Is Aaron
enjoying himself?”
“He was pretty stiff with the young ladies
I introduced him to, but he seems to enjoy Elsie Wilder’s company.
They’ve danced twice. I may need to remind him that he
can’t dance every dance with her. It just isn’t done.”
“Aside from that last dance, I’m enjoying myself.
Thanks again for getting us invitations,” Adam said smiling
warmly.
“We all needed a break from studying,” Thomas
replied with an answering smile. “Do you have dances like
this in Utah?”
“No,” Adam chuckled. “There are very
few white women in Western Utah and the few settlers are widely
scattered for the most part. There aren’t any cities or towns—just
some scattered trading posts and our only real settlement, Mormon Station.
I did attend balls and parties in San Francisco, however, during the
year I was there studying with my tutor, and my stepmother made sure
I read Advice to Young Gentlemen on Entering Society.” He
smiled at his friend. “Were you afraid you’d invited an uncouth
savage?”
“Hardly. Truthfully, I was more worried
about Aaron fitting in. It is obvious that you’ve had
previous exposure to polite society.” He paused and asked
curiously, “What do you do for amusement out on the frontier?”
“First, we don’t have a lot of time for amusement,”
Adam replied seriously. “We’re busy from sunup to sundown
breaking horses, herding strays, cutting hay, chopping firewood,
mucking out stalls, and doing some hunting and fishing. The
women are just as busy with their chores. On the Fourth of July,
everyone in the area tries to get together and have a celebration.
The women cook and bake and then we play horseshoes or have contests—shooting
or hatchet throwing—that sort of thing. Year before last,
one of the men played the fiddle and there was some dancing—mostly
married couples like my father and stepmother. Since there
were so few women, the men had to take turns tying a bandana around
their arms and being a ‘lady’.”
Thomas raised both eyebrows saying, “How rustic.
Tell, me did you take a turn as a ‘lady’?”
Adam shrugged. “Sure. So did my
father. My stepmother was very beautiful so she was in
great demand and Pa only got to dance with her a couple of times.
I danced with her once, which didn’t make some of the other men very
happy with me.” Just then the dance ended and Adam went to claim
his waltz with Julia.
He was careful not to hold her closer than
propriety allowed, no matter how much he longed to. She
was so light and graceful in his arms that they actually seemed
to be floating just above the parquet floor.
“You look awfully serious, Adam,” she said
as they whirled around the dance floor.
“I’m sorry. I was just thinking how very
beautiful you look tonight. ‘She walks in beauty, like
the night/Of cloudless climes and starry skies;/And all that’s
best of dark and bright/Meet in her aspect and her eyes,’” he quoted.
“Why, Mr. Cartwright,” she replied with pink
cheeks, “I didn’t know that you were a flirt.”
“I’m not, Miss Quincy,” he said, his own cheeks
reddening slightly. “It just seemed to me that Byron was
describing you.”
“I wasn’t complaining,” she said with a little
smile. “I hope I’m not vain, but I certainly don’t mind
being described as beautiful. Especially by you,” and she
looked at him beneath her lashes.
He smiled then revealing his dimple and daringly
held her a little closer. He could smell her light, sweet
perfume and it was intoxicating. The waltz ended much
too soon and he had to give her to her next partner before claiming
his own.
“Mr. Cartwright,” Harriet said, fanning herself
vigorously. “Would you mind if we sat this dance out?
I need to catch my breath, and I’d love a glass of punch.”
“I don’t mind,” he said quirking his lips in
a hint of a smile. “I’ll be right back with your punch.”
“So how are you liking Harvard?” she asked
as she sipped her punch. “It must be quite different
from life on the frontier. Pretty dull I would imagine.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. There’s
a lot of routine on a ranch, you know. Every morning without
fail the stock has to be fed and watered, stalls have to be mucked
out,” and he smiled inwardly at the way she crinkled her nose at that.
“Every spring and fall we have a roundup and the calves have to be
branded. Strays have to be hunted down and then some of the cattle
have to be driven over the Sierras to Placerville. Plus every
summer we have to cut hay for the stock to eat and enough wood to last
us during the long winter.” He paused and said with a hint of
a smirk, “I’m afraid you’d find life on a ranch dull.”
“But the Indians,” Harriet protested.
“We get along all right with the Paiutes and
the Washoe,” Adam said dismissively. “One of my friends
was an Indian.”
“I notice you use the past tense.”
“We used to go hunting and fishing when we
were boys, not always with our fathers’ approval I should add.
When I return home we’ll be grown men and I doubt our paths will
cross.”
“Even if you were friends, wasn’t your mother
scared?’ Harriet persisted.
“My stepmother wasn’t fond of Indians,” Adam
admitted reluctantly. “However, if you picture life on
our ranch as a series of endless battles with Indians, you are
far off the mark. Our struggle is with nature, not Indians.”
Harriet made a little moue of disappointment.
“So you are telling me life is as dull on the frontier as it
is in Boston?”
“Life is what you make it. I don’t find
it dull here and I didn’t find it dull back home.”
“I suppose you’re right, but I crave excitement—adventure!”
“You might not like it once you found it,”
Adam replied with a sardonic smile. “Ah, the dance is
over so we need to find our partners for the next.” Easterners
had such strange ideas about life in the west, but he quickly forgot
all about Harriet since this was his second dance with Julia.
The polka didn’t allow much opportunity to
talk but after it ended Adam said quickly, “Miss Quincy, may
I call on you?”
“I’d like that very much, Mr. Cartwright,’
she replied causing Adam to smile. Then she looked at
him under her lashes and added, “If my father approves.”
“I’ll speak to him Sunday after the service,”
Adam stated, feeling a knot of anxiety beginning to form in
his gut.
Adam remembered little about the rest of the
evening. His mind was focused on the best method of approaching
Julia’s father and gaining his permission to call on her.
When he arrived at his grandfather’s house Saturday morning, the
Captain immediately noticed his abstracted air.
“Did you have a good time at the ball?” he
asked, watching his grandson’s face carefully.
“It was marvelous,” Adam replied dimpling.
“I take it that you did get to dance with Miss
Quincy then?” the older man said teasingly.
“Twice,” Adam replied with a jaunty grin.
“And one a waltz.”
“Ah, yours is a decadent generation,” the Captain
said with a twinkle in his eye. “In my day, no decent young
woman would have allowed a young man to hold her in his arms
while they danced,” he said in a pompous manner belied by his
teasing expression. “Would’ve liked to have waltzed with
your grandmother though.”
“Oh, they danced back in the olden days?” Adam
asked with a cheeky grin and ducked when his grandfather pretended
to box his ears. He hesitated before deciding to confide
in his grandfather. After all, if he were successful, then
everyone would know he was courting Julia. “I, uh, asked Julia
if I could call on her,” he announced diffidently. The Captain’s
eyebrows lifted fractionally at this but he remained silent.
“She said I could if I got her father’s permission.”
“Very proper,” Captain Stoddard said.
“Your father asked my permission before courting your mother.
Of course, I already knew him and I knew your mother liked him.
The little minx had dropped plenty of hints that his suit would
be welcome to her.”
“How old were my parents when they began to
court?” Adam asked nonchalantly, but he didn’t fool his grandfather.
“Let me see. When he first asked if he
could come calling, he was my second mate; I think he was twenty-one
then or maybe twenty-two. Your mother was only seventeen
but she was old enough to know her own mind. Now, I wouldn’t
have agreed to her marrying at age seventeen, but a courtship was
another matter. I knew I could trust your father, knew that he
would always treat her with respect. And I knew your mother
wouldn’t give me any peace until I did agree he could come calling,”
he finished with a grin.
“Pa always said I inherited my stubbornness
from Mother,” Adam said with a faint smile.
“Your father was being too generous.
I’m sure you inherited half your stubbornness from him,” the
Captain said with a snort.
“That’s what I figured,” Adam replied with
a smirk.
During the church service Sunday, Adam had
difficulty concentrating when the choir sang, and he found
his thoughts wandering during the sermon. Finally the service
was over and he began working his way toward the Quincys.
He waited patiently as Mr. Quincy chatted with friends and colleagues
but finally he saw his chance.
“Hello, Mr. Quincy,” he said, hoping he didn’t
sound as nervous as he felt. His palms were sweating profusely
he was so nervous at approaching Julia’s father.
“Hello, Cartwright, isn’t it?”
“Yes, sir. Adam Cartwright. Uh,
Mr. Quincy, I wanted to ask for your permission to call on your
daughter, Julia.”
Mr. Quincy looked at him appraisingly.
“I need to know you better before I make my decision. Would
you be free to join us for dinner today?”
Adam hesitated for a moment before replying,
“My grandfather is expecting me to dine with him, and I wouldn’t
want to disappoint him.”
“I understand. You would be free for
supper?”
“Yes, I would,” Adam answered gravely.
“All right, then we’ll look forward to seeing
you around seven,” Mr. Quincy said politely.
Adam rejoined his grandfather, who was speaking
with Mrs. Baldwin. “Did he give you permission to call
on Julia?” Mrs. Baldwin asked with a twinkle in her eye. She
saw Adam glare at his grandfather and said in a tart voice, “Don’t
be sulky. I forced the Captain to tell me.” She smiled
at him then and asked, “Well, do you have permission?”
“He said he wanted to get to know me better
first so I’m to have supper with the Quincys tonight,” Adam replied
apprehensively.
“That’s only natural,” Captain Stoddard assured
him placing a comforting hand on his shoulder and giving it
a squeeze. “A father always wants to know the young men who
are interested in courting his daughter,” and Mrs. Baldwin nodded
her head in agreement.
“You have excellent manners, Adam, so you have
nothing to be nervous about,” she said encouragingly.
When Adam knocked on the door of the Quincys'
impressive townhouse on Beacon Street, the door was answered
by a parlor maid who took his hat and escorted him to the drawing
room where the rest of the family were gathered. Adam noted it
was a large room, but cluttered with bric-a-brac and the heavy maroon
velvet drapes added to the dark, cramped feeling.
“Would you care for a glass of sherry, Mr.
Cartwright?” Mr. Quincy asked him.
“No, thank you, sir,” Adam replied and Mr.
Quincy motioned for him to take the side chair opposite him.
“Well, Mr. Cartwright, I know you are Abel
Stoddard’s grandson and I believe I met your father when he
and Captain Stoddard were partners in the chandlery.”
“And I knew your mother,” Mrs. Quincy interjected.
“But we would like to know more about your
life in Well, in the west.”
“My father owns a ranch in Western Utah by
the shores of Lake Bigler. We raise cattle and sell them
across the Sierras in Placerville. We have lots of timber
on our land and, just recently, we’ve begun doing some logging.
I think that operation will probably expand in the future.”
“I assumed your father must be doing well if
he could afford to send you to Harvard,” Mr. Quincy commented.
“He must miss you very much,” Julia’s younger
sister, Hannah, added.
“I know he does, but he has my two younger
brothers to look after,” Adam replied.
“Oh, your father remarried?” Mrs. Quincy queried.
“Yes ma’am. He remarried when I was around
five and my brother, Eric, was born the next year.” (Adam
knew instinctively that the Quincys would find his brother’s nickname
very odd, so he decided not to mention it.) “My stepmother
was killed in an Indian raid while we were traveling west, and so for
several years it was just the three of us.”
“Your father raised two small boys on his own?”
Mrs. Quincy said in surprise, her eyebrows nearly reaching her
hairline.
“Yes, my father pretty much raised us on his
own. At least until I was twelve. He came back
from a trip to New Orleans with a new stepmother for Eric and
me. Eric was thrilled. I wasn’t. But she was
very patient with me. She was the mother of my youngest brother,
Joseph.”
“Was?” Mrs. Quincy asked.
“About three months before I came to Harvard,
she died in a riding accident.” Adam’s voice was a little
unsteady and he took a deep breath. “I wasn’t going to come
because I thought my family needed me there, but my father convinced
me that I should come because my stepmother had wanted me to attend
college.” He paused to collect himself before continuing.
“My going was hard on Joe. He was not quite five and he was
afraid I wasn’t coming back—like his mother. Eric misses me,
too, but at least he understands.”
“But what is the point of a college education
if you are going to return to a ranch in the middle of a wilderness?”
Mr. Quincy inquired in what Adam thought was a supercilious tone.
“The science and mathematics I am learning
have many practical uses on a spread like ours,” Adam answered
very earnestly. “I should be able to design bridges and flumes,
for instance, that would be invaluable in our expanding timber operation.
I would like to design a new house for us. Right now, we are still
living in the cabin my father first built, although we’ve added some
additional rooms.” He reined in his enthusiasm then, not wishing
to appear gauche.
“Do you attend concerts and the theater?
Or the opera?” Julia asked, speaking up for the first time.
“We have to travel to across the Sierras to
Sacramento or San Francisco for those, I’m afraid. However,
as more settlers arrive I’m certain we’ll have those things eventually,”
he replied a little apologetically.
Just then the maid announced that supper was
served, but once they were eating, Mr. Quincy resumed his interrogation.
“Just how many towns are there on your side of the mountains, Mr.
Cartwright?”
“There’s Mormon Station, Mottsville and Eagle
Station,” Adam replied a little defensively. “My father
wrote me that the Carson Valley now has about 200 permanent residents.
What with the gold strike in California and the land we got after
the war with Mexico, more and more people are settling in the valley.”
“I mean no offense, but coming from that environment,
I am surprised that you were able to pass the entrance examinations
for Harvard,” Mr. Quincy commented contumeliously.
Adam had to bite back a scathing reply, reminding
himself how important it was that he make a good impression
on Julia’s father. “My parents taught me at home and I spent
a year in San Francisco staying with some family friends being
tutored to prepare me for the entrance examinations,” he replied
evenly.
Mrs. Quincy apparently decided she’d heard
enough about Western Utah and decided to change the topic.
“I notice that you’ve joined the church choir. Are you
musically inclined?”
“I love to sing and while I was living in San
Francisco I took singing lessons. I also play the guitar.”
“Julia plays the piano. Perhaps after
supper she could accompany you and you could sing for us,” Mrs.
Quincy suggested.
“Y-yes, if you’d like, ma’am,” Adam managed
to get out while his stomach began to churn.
Julia sensed his discomfort and steered the
conversation to his experiences at college and Adam began to
relax again until the meal was over and Mrs. Quincy asked them all
to adjourn to the music room.
“Let’s look at the music and see if we can
find anything,” Julia said with a smile, and their fingers just
happened to brush more than once as they scanned the sheet music.
“How about Early One Morning?” Adam suggested and she nodded.
Adam closed his eyes, remembering the happy
evenings his family had spent singing together, before beginning.
He was surprised when the song ended to hear applause. “That
was beautiful, Adam,” Julia said with shining eyes and her mother
and sister added their praise.
“I hope you’ll sing us another,” Mrs. Quincy
suggested.
“Do you know Drink to Me Only with Thine
Eyes ?” Adam asked and Julia nodded. He was a little
self-conscious singing a love song, but he had practiced it many
times with his music teacher and knew he could sing it well, and again,
his performance was greeted with applause.
“It’s clear you are a young man of many talents,
Mr. Cartwright,” Mr. Quincy said after his womenfolk had finished
complimenting Adam. “If you wish to call on Julia here,
you have my permission.”
“I was hoping to take her to the performance
of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony in two weeks,” Adam said cautiously.
“We were planning on attending and you are
welcome to join us,” Mr. Quincy replied.
Adam gave a small sigh and then said politely,
“Thank you very much for the invitation. I would be happy
to be part of your party.”
“Well, Mr. Cartwright—or may I call you Adam?”
Mrs. Quincy began the next Sunday when Adam called and was
shown into the drawing room. He was relieved that Mr.
Quincy was absent and only Julia’s mother was there to chaperone.
“Adam, please, ma’am,” he replied seriously.
“Well, Adam, you were telling us that you have
two younger brothers. I imagine you must miss them.”
“Yes, I do. Very much.”
“Why don’t you tell us something about them.
That would help us get to know you better.”
“Very well,” he replied then paused for a moment
considering where to begin. “Eric is six years younger
than I am and I remember the day that he was born vividly.
We were traveling west to Oregon in a wagon train. Mama had
gotten so big that everyone was saying she must be carrying twins.”
He saw Julia’s cheeks turn pink at that so he hurried on. “We’d
camped for the night and Pa had gone somewhere—I don’t remember
where or why—when Mama asked me to go get Mrs. Simon. (That was
another woman on the train.) I ran over to the Simon’s wagon
and Mrs. Simon told me to tell Mr. Simon that she would be with Mama
and he’d need to fix supper and I was to help him. It turned out
that I knew more about cooking supper over a campfire than Mr. Simon,”
and he smiled a little remembering.
“But you were only six,” Julia interrupted.
“How could you know about cooking?”
He smiled at her to show he was not offended
by her question. “I knew because Pa and I had been traveling
west ever since I could remember. Much of the time we’d
camped out and I’d watched Pa cook food over our campfire. Mind
you, he wasn’t a very good cook, but from watching him I knew how to
mix up johnnycakes and fry them and how to cook beans and fry salt
pork. Between the two of us, Mr. Simon and I managed.
I was surprised when he said we should go ahead and eat without waiting
for Mrs. Simon, but he said we’d save some supper for her and for Mama,
and Pa, too, when he got back. After we finished eating, I wanted
to go back to our wagon, but Mr. Simon said he needed me to help feed
and water his oxen and ours. When we finished, I started to run
back to our wagon but Mr. Simon grabbed hold of me. ‘Adam, you gotta
stay here with me. Your little brother or sister is being born, and
that’s no place for us men,’ he said.
“I remember being surprised then and more determined
than ever to go to Mama, but I couldn’t break free of his hold.
‘Adam,’ he told me, ‘I’m tellin’ you, birthin’ babies is women’s
work. They don’t want any menfolk around.’ It was
starting to get dark then and he told me I could wait up until the
baby was born. We sat around the campfire and some of the
other men joined us and they told me stories. It seemed like
forever before Mrs. Simon ran over and asked where Pa was. When
she heard Pa wasn’t around, she turned to me with a big smile and
asked if I’d like to come see my baby brother. I ran over to the
wagon and there was Mama lying on the mattress in the wagon and she was
holding something all wrapped up in a little blanket. Now, I’d
seen a couple of babies as Pa and I had traveled west, but they were
no where near as big as the baby Mama was holding We didn’t have anything
to weigh him with accurately, but all the women said he weighed over ten
pounds.”
Mrs. Quincy’s mouth dropped open at that.
“Over ten pounds! My word! And she was all right?”
“Yes, ma’am. Mama was tall; I remember
she was almost as tall as Pa, but slender. At least she
was when I first knew her. Her brother, Gunnar, was a big
man and she said her father had been over six feet tall.
She told us that big babies ran in her family even if they weren’t
quite as big as Ho, uh, Eric. He was a happy baby, only cried
when he was hungry or needed to be changed. Quite different
from Joe.”
“That’s your younger brother?” Julia asked.
He smiled warmly at her. “Yes.
Now, I’m twelve—almost thirteen—years older than Joe so we
have a different relationship. After my memories of Eric
as a baby, Joe seemed really tiny, but I guess he was really pretty
much average. His mother, Marie, was small and slender and
Joe takes after her so I doubt he’ll grow to be as tall as Eric and
I are.”
“Your mother was very petite,” Mrs. Quincy
interjected.
“That’s what Grandfather said, that she didn’t
stand any higher than Pa’s shoulder, so she must have been
even smaller than Marie. I take after Pa that way but
he and Grandfather say I favor my mother.”
“Yes, you do,” Mrs. Quincy agreed quietly.
“She and I weren’t as close as she was to Mrs. Baldwin, but
we were friends. You do resemble her, especially your eyes
and your mouth.” Adam dimpled at that and she added with a
smile, “I see you also inherited her dimples.”
“Tell us more about Joe,” Julia requested,
feeling a bit left out and after all it was she Adam had come
to visit.
“As I mentioned, Ho, um, Eric is very easygoing.
Well, Joe is pretty much the opposite. When he is happy,
there is no one happier, and when he is sad or angry, there is
no one sadder or angrier. He’s quick-tempered, which Eric
and I aren’t. Of course, he and Eric both get over their
anger quickly.”
“And you don’t?” Julia asked hesitantly and
Adam was furious with himself for his indiscretion.
“Not as quickly as they do,” he admitted reluctantly.
Mrs. Quincy sensed his discomfort and moved
to change the subject. “Tell us, since you each have different
mothers, do the three of you resemble each other?”
“No, ma’am,” Adam replied gratefully.
“Joe and I each favor our mothers. We both have curly hair,
but Joe’s is blond like his mother’s. He has his mother’s
green eyes just as I inherited my mother’s eyes. Pa says
that Mama thought Eric was going to look like her father. He
is definitely going to be the biggest of us.”
“But you’re tall,” Julia protested for his
height and his build were two of the attributes that attracted
her to him.
“Yes, but Eric is going to be taller.
He’s only twelve, almost thirteen now, but he writes that the
last time Pa measured him he was already 5’ 6”. He’s grown
a whole inch since I’ve been gone.”
“Oh my,” Mrs. Quincy said. “He is a big
boy.” She looked thoughtful before asking, “Adam, I know
it must have been a lot of work doing the cooking and cleaning
for your family. Did your stepmother have help?
“We have a cook, Hop Sing. He helped
my stepmother with the cleaning and cooking and he did the laundry.
Now he does it all plus looking after Joe. Our cabin’s not that
big: just a kitchen, what my stepmother called her parlor, and two
bedrooms. Oh, and the washhouse is built off the kitchen.”
“How rustic,” Mrs. Quincy said with a slight
shudder.
“As I mentioned, when I return, I hope to design
and build a house—one large enough that each of us can have
his own bedroom—and a dining room and a great room with an enormous
fireplace.”
“It sounds as though you’ve already been giving
it some thought,” Julia said quietly.
“I have,” Adam replied with a faint smile.
“I wanted to study architecture, but you have to go to Europe
for that. However, I think I can use what I learn about engineering
and apply it to designing a house.”
“What sort of a name is Hop Sing?” Mrs. Quincy
asked. “Most servants here are Irish, but I know that’s
not an Irish name.”
“Hop Sing is Chinese,” Adam answered and was
disturbed by the disdain he saw on her face. “He is a
very special man. Why, if he hadn’t been there to help me
after my stepmother died—“ He stopped abruptly.
“I didn’t mean to cause offense,” Mrs. Quincy
said stiffly.
“Harriet Winston said you told her that life
on the frontier is dull,” Julia interjected.
“That’s not exactly what I said,” Adam contradicted
gently. “She seemed to feel that my family and I spent
all our time fighting hostile Indians, and that’s not the case.
I tried to explain that much of our life is routine and our struggle
is really with Nature, rather than the Indians. When winter
comes, wolves and mountain lions come down out of the mountains and
go after our cattle. Even though we cut hay to feed the cattle
during the winter, we still lose some to the freezing temperatures
and the snow. In the spring we sometimes loose a few head during
thunderstorms. Other times we lose cattle to disease. Winters
are long and cold in the high country and we may be snowed in for
weeks at a time so we have to make sure we have plenty of firewood cut
and plenty of supplies before the first winter storms or we risk freezing
or starving to death.”
“You make it sound so grim. I can’t imagine
why you’d want to go back,” Julia said curiously.
Adam sighed. “I guess I’ve overemphasized
the harsher aspects. There are advantages and disadvantages
to living on the frontier just as there are in a city like Boston.”
“What disadvantage is there living in Boston?”
Julia scoffed.
“Too many people living too close together.
The air is filthy because of all the smoke from chimneys, it’s
too noisy, and it’s easier for diseases to spread,” Adam answered
evenly.
The Quincys looked taken aback. “I suppose
you’re correct about the air and disease. But it’s not
that noisy,” Julia protested.
“You only say that because you’ve lived here
all your life. Trust me, it’s noisy.
“All right,” Julia said, but it was clear she
was unconvinced.
“There is one other disadvantage and I hope
you aren’t offended if I mention it.”
“Please,” Mrs. Quincy said.
“People’s manners here in Boston seem artificial.
Back home, if someone has something bad to say about you, they
say it to your face and not behind your back.”
Adam saw that both the Quincys were not pleased
with this comment. “Tell me some advantages of living on
the frontier,” Julia commanded.
“First, you are surrounded by beauty.
Oh, I know Boston is beautiful,” he added seeing the protest
in Julia’s eyes, “but it’s a man-made beauty and on the frontier
you can see the beauty God created. There is just no comparison.
Our lakes are as clear and blue as the sky above. The mountains,
reaching up to touch the sky, have a grandeur, a majesty, that no
edifice can match, no matter how beautiful. Then there are the
ponderosa pines our ranch is named for. They stretch proud and
tall against the sky. Many have been there for hundreds of years.
“Our air is healthy and invigorating, just
the opposite of what you find in a city. I like the fact
that I can step outside and not see my neighbors, but I concede
to some that would be a disadvantage,” he added with just a hint
of a smile quirking his lips. “I think we on the frontier are
more independent, more self-reliant. It’s probably because our
neighbors are few and far between that if something bad happens to
one of us, the rest all pitch in and help. Of course, the biggest
advantage, for me, is the Ponderosa is where my family is.”
“You said you have to travel over the mountains
to attend a play or an opera, so what do you do for entertainment?”
Julia inquired.
“At the end of the day after all the chores
are done is my chance to read. Books are harder to come
by—a disadvantage of life on the frontier—but I read my favorites
again and again. On moonlit nights I like to go for a ride
on Beauty, my mare.” His mouth curved up in an impish grin.
“I have to sneak out so Pa doesn’t know because he’d forbid me.”
Mrs. Quincy shook her head at him but Julia smiled. “When
my stepmother was alive we’d sing. She and I both play the guitar.”
His expression became somber. “Since she died, we haven’t done
any singing.”
“Do you have balls?” Julia asked eagerly.
“No,” he said regretfully. “But on the
Fourth of July everyone from miles round gathers at Mormon Station—that’s
our biggest settlement—and we have some dancing. Problem
is, there about four men to every woman so some of the men have
to dance together.” Both women giggled at that.
Just then there was a soft knock and Mrs. Quincy
called, “Yes?” The parlor maid entered pushing a small
cart.
“I brought tea, ma’am,” she said in a pronounced
Irish accent.
“Thank you, Bridget,” Mrs. Quincy said and
the young woman curtseyed and left. As they drank their
tea and ate dainty cakes the conversation moved to happenings
in Boston.
“Mail from Massachusetts, Boss,” Will Reagan,
the ranch foreman, called as he walked in the front door.
Hop Sing came in from the kitchen where he’d been working on the
week’s baking followed by a flour-covered Joe.
“Mr. Cartwright not back for dinner yet,” Hop
Sing said and Joe immediately piped up saying, “Is there a letter
from Adam, Mr. Reagan?”
“Yup. One for your pa, one for your brother,
and this one here’s addressed to Master Joseph Cartwright,”
he said holding out a letter.
“Thanks, Mr. Reagan,” Joe said snatching the
letter and ripping it open.
“Wait ‘til father come home,” Hop Sing said
reaching to take the letter.
“No, it’s mine. Adam wrote it to me,”
Joe replied stamping his foot and clutching the letter to his
chest.
“But you need your pa to read it to you,” Reagan
said kindly.
“No, I don’t. I can read good.
I can read it myself,” Joe said indignantly. He went and
climbed on the Windsor settee and unfolded the piece of paper
staring at the unfamiliar cursive writing. He looked at
the bottom and saw where Adam had signed his name. He knew how
Adam’s name was spelled so he knew what those three letters looked
like and he was sure he could figure out the rest.
Ben came in a few minutes later to find his
youngest sitting on the settee staring at a piece of paper, his
tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth as he concentrated.
Ben peered over his shoulder and recognized Adam’s familiar neat
handwriting.
“Joseph, did you open Adam’s letter?” he barked
causing Joe to jump.
“It’s my letter, Pa, that Adam wrote me. I
wanted to read it myself, but this writin’s funny. I can’t
read nuthin ‘cept Adam’s name,” he said looking perplexed.
“You’re used to reading printing, but Adam
writes in cursive,” Ben explained. “But, Joseph,” he
said sternly, “you know we always read Adam’s letters together.
You should have waited.”
“But it was mine, Pa,” Joe whined. “Adam
wrote it to me.”
Ben sighed. He couldn’t refute that logic.
“All right, but in the future remember that we read Adam’s
letters together.” Joe nodded reluctantly so he asked,
“Would you like Pa to read the letter to you?” Joe nodded
vigorously so that his curls bounced, and Ben sat down and let
the six-year-old climb up in his lap.
— 1855
Dear Joe,
I am so glad that you like your soldiers.
I had fun choosing them for you. We’ve had lots of snow
here in Cambridge and Boston so after lessons we have snowball
fights and Aaron, Thomas and I built a really tall snowman.
Pa writes me you are doing very well with your
lessons. I’m doing well with my lessons, too. My
two favorite classes are trigonometry and astronomy. At
night our class looks at the stars and planets through a telescope
at the observatory and I’ve seen the rings around Saturn and Jupiter,
the largest planet in our solar system. When I get home, Little
Buddy, I’ll show you all the constellations we can see just with our
eyes. I remember when I was your age, Pa showed me the North Star
and told me how sailors use it to help them navigate on the ocean and
how he used it to guide us as we traveled west. I’ll bet he’d show
you, too, if you asked him.
“Would you, Pa?
Would you show me?” Joe interrupted.
“Of course, I would. I’ll show you tonight,”
Ben said with a smile, remembering Adam’s serious face when
he had shown him, drinking in his explanation the way a sponge
soaks up liquid. “Right now, let’s finish Adam’s letter,” and
Joe nodded
I am going to the symphony
tomorrow night to hear Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony. Being
able to attend symphonies and concerts is something I am really
going to miss when I come home. Of course, now I miss being
able to ride and I miss Beauty. Aaron and I run and we are learning
gymnastics and boxing at a gymnasium in Boston since the College
doesn’t have one. (I know Pa is reading this letter to you, so
let me assure him that Aaron and I box under the tutelage of an excellent
teacher. We also lift weights to build up our muscles.)
“What’s Adam mean about
building up his muscles?” Joe asked.
“Well, he and Aaron aren’t doing all the hard,
physical work they did at home and that work is what made their
bodies strong. I’m glad your brother remembers it’s as important
to exercise his body as his mind.”
“Is that all?” Joe asked.
“No. Adam wrote a little more,” Ben answered
with a smile.
I guess that’s all I have
to write. I miss you, Little Buddy.
Affectionately yours,
Adam
“Now can we read
your letter?” Joe asked hopefully.
“No, we’ll wait until after supper when Hoss
will be here. Right now, we need to get washed up for
dinner.” As if on cue, Hop Sing walked in announcing that
dinner was ready.
When Hoss came home and learned that Joe had
already read his letter he muttered angrily, “It ain’t fair.
If I didn’t have to go to school, I coulda read my letter.”
“Hoss,” Ben remonstrated gently. “Joe
knows he was wrong not to wait and he won’t do it again.
Will you, Joe?”
Joe stuck out his lower lip in a pout but he
grudgingly nodded.
“You can read your letter first, how about
that?” Ben asked with a smile.
“Okay,” Hoss replied but Ben could see he wasn’t
totally mollified. “Let’s eat fast.”
After supper the three Cartwrights and Hop
Sing gathered around the fireplace and Hoss carefully opened
his letter and unfolded it.
— 1855
Dear Hoss,
That’s wonderful news about Beauty. I’m
sure glad to know she’s all right and the foal, too. So
he has an appetite to match yours, huh? I think Chubby is
the perfect name for him then. I sure miss Beauty and being
able to ride. You give her an apple every day and tell her
it’s from me.
I am still spending my weekends in Boston,
but Saturday afternoons I call on Julia Quincy and her family.
I’d rather just call on Julia but her mother is always there to
chaperone. I don’t mind too much. Mrs. Quincy was a
friend of my mother’s and she’s told me a few stories about Mother
when she was a girl. The daughter of a free Negro was enrolled
in their school and some of the other girls wouldn’t have anything to
do with her, or said nasty things right to her face. Mother
invited her to take the seat by her and she and Mrs. Baldwin always asked
her to eat her dinner with them even though it meant some of the girls
then said spiteful things to them. It made me proud to hear that
story. Mrs. Quincy also told me that Mother was sweet on Pa
right from the first time Grandfather brought him home to dinner
and she made up her mind he was the man she wanted to marry.
Hoss looked up then and
saw his father was smiling and Hoss smiled back before returning
to Adam’s letter.
I’m sorry you aren’t enjoying
school. I guess you and I are always going to be different
that way, Little Brother. You can’t understand how I can
enjoy studying and it’s hard for me to understand anyone not enjoying
it. But you shouldn’t think that you are a disappointment to
Pa, Hoss. As long as you do your best, Pa is proud of you.
Hoss stopped reading then,
feeling Ben squeezing his shoulder comfortingly. “Adam is
right, Hoss. I don’t expect you to be a scholar like him;
I just want you to do the best that you can. I’m sorry if I’ve
ever made you feel that I wasn’t proud of you.”
“No, you never did, Pa,” Hoss said earnestly,
his cheeks reddening. “It’s just that Adam is so smart
and I was afraid you was disappointed that I’m not like him and
I wrote an’ told Adam so.”
“You just remember that no one expects you
to be like your older brother. You each have your own
gifts and I love you equally.” Ben paused. “It’s
like the scriptures that we read last Sunday, where Paul writes,
‘If the whole body were an eye, where were the hearing? If the
whole were hearing, where were the smelling? But now hath God
set the members every one of them in the body as it hath pleased him.’”
“I’m not sure I understand,” Hoss said slowly
while Joe squirmed restlessly, bored with the conversation.
“Paul is using the parts of the body to explain
how God gives each one of us different gifts. Each part
of the body is important and has its function, and each gift or
talent God gives us is equally valuable to Him.”
“So Adam’s an eye and I’m an ear?” Hoss said,
his countenance brightening.
“I think you have the idea, son,” Ben replied
with a smile while Joe said indignantly, “Hoss you ain’t no
ear! And Adam ain’t no eye!”
“You’re right, Joe,” Ben said chuckling and
ruffling his curls. “Why don’t you finish Adam’s letter,
Hoss.”
Tonight I am going to
hear Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony with the Quincys. (I wanted
to take Julia, but Mr. Quincy just invited me to come with them.
I sure hope I get to sit by Julia.)
I guess that’s all for now. Take care
of yourself.
Affectionately yours,
Adam
“Now you read yours, Pa,”
Joe commanded so Ben opened his letter and began to read aloud.
— 1855
Dear Pa,
I had a wonderful time at the ball. I
danced twice with Julia. I did remember to ask the girls no one
else asked to dance. Maybe they weren’t as pretty as Julia,
but with one exception I enjoyed dancing with them. The first
girl I asked was named Elsie Wilder. After I asked her, Aaron
did. Now, he likes Elsie as much as I like Julia. I
asked Julia if I could call on her and she said yes, if I obtained
her father’s permission. I spoke with Mr. Quincy and
he has given me permission to call on Julia. When I first asked,
he said he needed to know me better and invited me to supper.
He really interrogated me, but I guess I passed muster. I
was already nervous and then Mrs. Quincy asked me to sing for them,
which made me even more nervous. Julia accompanied me on the
piano and she and her mother and sister told me that they liked my
singing. (I don’t know if Mr. Quincy did.) I was hoping
to take Julia to a concert but so far Mr. Quincy has only given me
permission to call on her at their house. At least he invited me
to attend the concert with them, and I sat next to Julia and she let
me hold her hand.
“Adam sure is writin’
a lot about this Julia. D’ya think he’s sweet on her, Pa?”
Hoss interrupted frowning.
“It does sound that way,” Ben answered.
“But it’s probably just calf-love,” he added, as much to convince
himself as Hoss, and he continued reading.
I enjoyed the symphony
so much. The music was simply sublime, especially the chorus
in the last movement. The Quincys have invited me to attend
a production of “The Marriage of Figaro” next Saturday night and
I am looking forward to it with great anticipation. Julia has
already seen one production and she says it is her favorite opera.
She is so beautiful, Pa, and she’s very accomplished.
She plays the piano beautifully; she sketches and embroiders.
She enjoys reading novels and has recommended two: Jane Eyre and
Vanity Fair. I have borrowed Vanity Fair from the library
and am reading it so we can discuss it when I call next. I
am enjoying Thackary’s satire and his excellent characterizations.
I’d better close now so I can get to work on
my studies.
Affectionately yours,
Adam
P.S. I’ve grown since I’ve been here,
and I’m now three-quarters of an inch taller than you are, Pa.
“Adam’s taller than you?” Joe repeated.
“I’m not surprised,” Ben replied. “He
was as tall as I am when he left, and I knew he hadn’t stopped
growing.”
“I forgot to tell Adam I grew another quarter
of an inch,” Hoss said proudly. “D’ ya still think I’ll
grow to be taller ‘n’ Adam?”
“You’re definitely going to be the biggest
Cartwright, Hoss. There’s no doubt of that. Your
older brother was only 5’ when he was your age.”
“No, I’m gonna be the biggest!” Joe cried,
jumping to his feet so he stood higher than the rest.
“Naw, punkin, you might grow as big as Adam,
but ya ain’t gonna be bigger than me,” Hoss said with a grin.
“Yes, I will!” Joe shouted, stamping his foot
on the wooden settee.
“Joseph, sit down and get your feet off the
furniture,” Ben commanded and still scowling, Joe complied.
Chapter 3
One morning in early April as Adam, Aaron and
Thomas were leaving the Common after dinner, Fred Thompkins approached
them. “Have any of you played baseball?” he asked hopefully.
“I have,” Thomas said with a grin and Aaron
added, “Me, too.”
“Well, Mike Browne and I are trying to form
a couple of teams to play each other. And we’re going to
see if there are any teams in town we could play,” Fred said enthusiastically.
“Would you be interested?’
“Sure,” Aaron and Thomas replied eagerly.
“What about you, Cartwright?” Fred asked.
“Even if you’ve never played before, it’s easy to learn and fun.”
“You’ll like it, Adam, and Aaron and I can
show you how to play,” Thomas added.
Adam shrugged. “Sure, I’ll play.”
“That’s great. I’ll let you three know
the details once Mike and I get them worked out,” Fred said
happily.
“You know, it’s too beautiful an afternoon
to waste studying,” Thomas said. “Let’s change and then
go over to the Delta and we can show Adam the basics.” The
other two agreed readily. There had been so many rainy days the
past two weeks that it did seem a crime to waste a beautiful sunny
day inside studying. “Fred, do you by any chance have a ball and a
bat you could loan us?”
“Sure,” Fred replied with a grin. “They’re
in my wardrobe. Help yourselves,” and he walked off whistling.
“All right, Adam,” Thomas said as the three
of them met at the Delta after having changed out of their frock
coats and white linen dress shirts into calico work shirts.
(Adam changed into the canvas pants he’d bought in San Francisco
from Levi Strauss & Co., thinking they’d be more suitable than
trousers made of broadcloth.) “The object of the game is to
be the first team to score one hundred tallies and a tally is a run
scored after the runner has touched all four bases and a Thrower without
being plugged.”
“Plugged means you’re hit by a ball thrown
by someone on the opposite team, a basetender or a scout” Aaron
interjected.
“Let’s start by practicing throwing and catching
the ball,” Thomas suggested and they spread themselves out
and began throwing the ball back and forth. “You’ve got
a good arm,” Thomas told Adam. “I think you’ll make an excellent
Thrower.”
“I do, too,” Aaron agreed. “Why don’t
we take turns as Striker so he can practice throwing.”
“Good idea,” said Thomas. “All right,
Adam, the idea is that you as the Thrower stand thirty-five feet
from the Striker and you throw the ball to the Striker, on whichever
side he tells you, and it must be within the reach of his bat.”
“I’ll be the first Striker,” Aaron said.
“I borrowed a stake from Fred that we’ll use for fourth base.”
Adam and Thomas watched as Aaron pounded the stake in the ground
until it was about four feet high. “Now, Adam, you need
to pace off thirty-five feet in a parallel line from the base.”
Adam paced off the distance and then called,
“Are you ready?”
“No, wait,” Thomas hollered. “I’m going
to be the Catcher so I have to get behind Aaron. I’ll signal
when I’m in position and then you can throw.”
“Throw on the right side,” Aaron yelled.
Adam’s first throw would have hit Aaron in
the head, except he jumped out of the way. “I thought
we were friends, Adam!” he yelled but Adam saw him grin.
“Not bad for the first time; but you don’t want to throw it so close
to the Striker,” he called as Thomas threw the ball back to Adam.
They let Adam practice throwing for about a half-hour and then Thomas
threw so Adam could have a chance to practice striking. He
hit the very first ball thrown to him, but Thomas ran backward and caught
it before it hit the ground.
“If we were playing a game, you would be out
since Thomas caught the ball. The basetenders and scouts
will try to get the Striker out by catching a ball he’s knocked,”
Aaron explained.
Thomas joined them and said, “I think that’s
probably enough for today. We don’t want to get too sore.
If it’s nice tomorrow, do we want to meet here again?” and the other
two agreed.
Adam began to get a better idea of how the
game was played when the two teams made up of freshmen and sophomores
began to practice. He practiced throwing with Aaron or
Thomas whenever they had free time and he really improved.
Aaron was one of the best Strikers on their team and he was a good
basetender when they were in the field while Thomas was a scout.
On one of his Sunday afternoon visits, Adam mentioned to the Quincys
that he was a member of a baseball team some underclassmen had formed
and their first match, which was against a Cambridge team, was scheduled
for the following Saturday afternoon.
“Could we go see Adam play?” Julia asked and
Hannah said excitedly, “Please, Papa. It would be fun.”
“I think it is an excellent idea,” Mr. Quincy
replied with a smile. “I used to play baseball when I
was a lad and enjoyed it very much. We’ll be there to cheer
you and your team on, Cartwright.”
The day of the first match was a bit overcast,
but all the young men were hoping that if there were any rain,
it would wait until after the game. Adam and Aaron were
especially wound up because Julia and Elsie and their families
were going to be watching the game, and they wanted to impress them
with their athletic prowess. Adam was scheduled to be the Thrower
for his team so he knew he must concentrate on the game, and once
it began, he gave it all his attention. He didn’t forget Julia
was watching; he just put that thought at the back of his mind.
He threw the ball as hard as he could, wishing the rules allowed him to
throw overhand so he could throw harder and faster. He struck
out the first Striker but the second made it to first base. Thomas
caught the ball hit by the third Striker so they only needed one more
out, and Fred provided that by plugging a runner on first base as he
ran for second.
The Harvard team managed to score five tallies
in the first inning while the Cambridge team had none.
By this time there was a gentle rain falling, but not enough to
stop the game. By the fifth inning the rain had slacked off
and the Harvard team led 50 to 35. Adam’s arm was growing tired
and in the sixth inning the Cambridge team scored 15 runs, tying
the score.
“Adam, we need to replace you,” Fred said as
their team moved off the field. “You did a good job for
an inexperienced Thrower, but I can see your arm is tired and
you aren’t throwing as accurately or as fast.”
“Yeah,” Adam said, trying to hide his disappointment,
but he knew it was better for the team if he was replaced.
He scored a tally when he was at bat, but then he had to watch the
rest of the game as a spectator. His team won, 100 to 90, and
his personal disappointment was forgotten in the excitement of his team’s
victory.
“Good game, lad!” his grandfather called, coming
over to greet him while the Harvard boys were thumping each
other on the back, their faces split by huge grins.
“Adam’s a good thrower and he’ll only get better
with experience, sir,” Fred said with a friendly grin.
“You coming, Adam?”
“In just a minute,” Adam replied. “Go
on; I’ll catch up.” He turned to the Captain. “We’re
all going to celebrate with a few beers. So you enjoyed the
game?”
“I did. Glad I brought my umbrella with
me.”
“I hope you don’t get a chill,” Adam said worriedly.
“I’ll be fine, lad. When you come Saturday,
you’ll have to explain the finer points of this game to me.”
“I’ll be happy to,” Adam grinned. “See
you on Saturday.” He started to run to catch up with his
friends when he heard his name. Surprised, he turned around
and saw Mr. Quincy.
“Just wanted to congratulate you, my boy,”
Mr. Quincy said, his expression friendlier than Adam had ever
seen before.
“I’m glad you enjoyed the game, sir.
I thought perhaps when it began to rain ”
“I sent the women home, but I stayed.
Hadn’t seen a game in years, forgotten how much I enjoyed them.”
He paused and then said warmly, “Congratulations on your victory.”
It was time for the spring roundup and all
three Cartwrights were unhappy. Initially, Hoss had been
delighted when Ben had told him that he didn’t have to attend
school during the roundup, partly because he was always glad to
miss school but even more because he thought he would be a part of
the roundup. He was bitterly disappointed when he learned he
was only staying home so Joe wouldn’t be alone.
Joe was miserable and frightened. Mama
had gone away to heaven and she would never come back.
Then Adam went away. He and Pa both said he’d be back, but
he’d been gone a long, long time and Joe was beginning to doubt
he’d ever return. Now Pa was going away and Joe was terrified
that he’d lose him as well.
By the morning Ben left on the roundup, Hoss’s
naturally sunny nature had overcome his surliness but Joe cried
as though his heart was broken, begging and pleading with Ben
not to go.
“Joe, Papa will be back,” Ben said gently as
he held the frightened little boy in his arms, rubbing soothing
circles on his back. “I’ve been away on roundup before, and
you know I always come back. Hoss is going to be staying here
with you to play with you, and Hop Sing is here. I’ve even
asked Mr. McKaren to stop by and check on you and Hoss since he and
Todd are back from their roundup. He’s going to get our mail when
he goes for his own, and if we get any letters from Adam, Hoss has my
permission to read them—even the one addressed to me.”
“How about that, punkin? We can read
Adam’s letters before Pa,” Hoss said smiling encouragingly at
his baby brother.
“Now, can you be a big boy for Papa and for
your brother?” Ben asked, taking Joe’s chin between his thumb
and forefinger and turning his face to his.
Joe sniffed and scrubbed at his eyes.
“’Kay, Papa,” he said in a quivering voice and Ben sat him on
his feet and Joe grabbed for Hoss’s hand.
“Hey, punkin,” Hoss said as Ben rode out of
sight, “how’d you like to learn how to play checkers? Adam
taught me to play when I was ‘bout your age, and now I can teach
you.”
“Okay,’ Joe replied, his expression brightening
a little.
The second time Andy McKaren and Todd stopped
by the Ponderosa, they brought three letters.
“Are they from Adam?” Joe asked eagerly, jumping
up and down in excitement.
“Well, I can’t think who else in Cambridge,
Massachusetts, would be writing to Master Joseph Cartwright,”
Andy said tousling Joe’s curls while Todd reached down and began
to tickle him so he giggled hysterically.
When Todd stopped tickling Joe, Andy said,
“I don’t suppose you’d let us stay while you read Adam’s letters?
We’d like to hear how he’s doing, wouldn’t we Todd?” and Todd nodded.
“Sure, Mr. McKaren,” Hoss replied with an enormous
grin. “Let’s sit on the porch, all right?”
Hop Sing had come into the yard when they heard
the McKarens ride up and said, “I bring pitcher of milk and cookies.”
“Thanks, Hop Sing,” Todd said grinning.
Hop Sing’s cooking was ten times better than his or his father’s.
“Sugar cookies?” and the cook nodded his head.
“I won’t start readin’ until yer ready,” Hoss
called after him.
“Open mine first, Hoss. Open mine!” Little
Joe commanded.
“Okay, I’ll read yers first,” Hoss replied
with a smile as Hop Sing brought out a tray with the milk and
a plateful of cookies, plus a cup of coffee for Andy. After everyone
was situated on the Cartwrights’ front porch—Andy, Todd and Hoss
sat on the bench Ben and Adam had made while Joe perched on the
rail and Hop Sing stood by Joe—Hoss cleared his throat and self-consciously
began to read.
— 1855
Dear Joe,
It’s springtime here in Cambridge. The
buttercups and the Queen Anne’s lace are blooming. I
think you’ll get this letter about the time Pa will be gone on
spring roundup. I know you’ll miss him, Little Buddy, but
he’ll be back before you know it. You be sure and give him a
hug for me, okay?
I hope you are studying hard just as I am.
I have to admit I am not enjoying English grammar as much as
I did English literature. Trigonometry is fascinating though
and so is astronomy. Did you know that people used to think
the sun revolved around the earth? That’s why in the story
I read you the boy drove the sun chariot across the sky; they thought
the sun moved across the sky while really the earth is rotating as
it revolves around the sun.
Hoss stopped then.
“Do you understand what he’s writin’, Mr. McKaren?”
Andy smiled at him. “I think so.
Since the sun always rises in the east and sets in the west,
people used to think it was moving. Really, it was the
earth that was moving, rotating or turning around the sun.
When the earth is turned toward the sun, then we have day and when
it’s turned away, then it’s night.”
“But we ain’t movin’, Mr. McKaren,” Joe said
belligerently.
“We don’t feel it, Little Joe, but we’re moving,”
Todd said quietly. “A man named Galileo proved it.
I remember Adam told Ross and me last summer before he went to Harvard.
There’s other planets—Mars, Venus and I forget who else—and they
all revolve around the sun and while they revolve they turn.
Here, I’ll show you. You go stand over there and be the sun;
I will be a planet.”
Joe stood expectantly and giggled as Todd walked
around him in a circle, slowly turning around as he walked.
“When I’m facing you, it’s day and when I turn away from you,
it’s night. See?”
“I wanna be a planet!” Joe shouted in excitement.
“Okay, we’ll switch,” Todd said with a smile,
but it wasn’t long before the “planet” began to stagger dizzily.
“That enough,” Hop Sing said and Andy added,
“That’s right, boys. We get the idea.”
Reluctantly Joe staggered over to the porch
while Hoss said in a puzzled voice, “Shore beats me why we ain’t
all dizzy with that turnin’.”
“I know what you mean, Hoss,” Andy said, “but
the Good Lord just didn’t arrange it that way. Now, is there
any more to the letter?” and Hoss nodded.
I know you want a horse
like Hoss, Little Buddy, but Buttermilk would be awful lonesome
if you stopped riding him. He needs you to take care of him
and love him. Remember, neither Hoss nor I had a horse when we
were only five. When I was five, I didn’t even have a pony.
We had an old draft horse named Molly and when Pa realized how gentle
she was, sometimes he’d put me on her back and let me ride.
I didn’t have a mount of my own until we settled here and Pa got me
a little cremello mustang pony. I loved Moonlight and it broke
my heart when she died of colic. Hoss wasn’t even six then
so I don’t know if he’d remember her, but I’m sure Pa does.
Hoss stopped reading then
a thoughtful expression on his face. “I do remember Moonlight.
She was an awful pretty pony. Adam cried when she died.”
“Buttermilk is a good pony,” Joe said slowly.
“He would be sad if he thought I didn’t want to ride him no more.”
“That’s right,” Andy said. “You’ve got
a fine pony, Little Joe.” What a good older brother
Adam is to write and convince Joe that he is better off with a
pony, he thought. I’ll bet Ben really misses having him around
to help with this young rapscallion.
“Yeah,” Todd chimed in. “I wish when
I was your age I’d had a pony as nice as Buttermilk.”
Seeing his brother’s pensive expression, Hoss continued reading.
Sorry, Little Buddy,
but I don’t think you’re going to grow up and be taller than Hoss.
Don’t feel too badly though because Hoss is going to be bigger than
I am, too. In fact, I think Hoss is going to be bigger than
most people.”
“Boy, ain’t that the truth,”
Todd said and Hoss turned beet-red.
“Hush, Todd, and let Hoss finish,” Andy said
sharply.
“Sorry, Hoss,” Todd said sincerely, for he
knew the younger boy was sensitive about his size, and Hoss
continued.
I guess that’s all for
now.
Affectionately yours,
Adam
“That was a very nice letter,”
Andy said. “I can see your older brother loves you very
much.” Joe's face positively glowed at those words.
“And now my letter,” Hoss said opening the
envelope and pulling it out.
— 1855
Dear Hoss,
It’s spring here in Cambridge and we are drowning
in mud. The weather here is certainly different from back home
and I guess the chief difference is the amount of rain, hence the
mud. It rains every three or four days, and the damp makes
it seem colder than I suspect it actually is.
Aaron, Thomas and I along with some of our
other friends have formed a baseball team. It’s a game
they play back east and I am really enjoying it. It’s not
as much fun as riding Beauty, but it’s a close second. You
play the game with wooden bats you use to hit a leather-covered
ball. You run around four bases, which are wooden stakes pounded
until they’re four feet off the ground. I’m a Thrower and that
means I want to throw the ball so the Striker (that’s the fellow with
the bat) swings and misses. (That’s called striking out.)
The Striker wants to hit the ball so that no one on the opposing team
can catch it in the air. Every time the team at bat has a player
run all four bases, that’s a tally, and the first team to earn one hundred
tallies wins the game. I don’t want to brag, but I’m getting
to be a pretty good Thrower. My team has won half the games we’ve
played and considering several of us had never played baseball before,
I think that’s pretty good. Grandfather attends all my games and
so do the Quincys. I don’t think Mr. Quincy really liked me before,
but it turns out that he is a big baseball fan, and so now he does.
He still won’t let me take Julia for a walk or to a play or concert.
“He’s writin’ about that
Julia again,” Joe interrupted. “He’s always writing about
her.”
“Sounds like your brother is sweet on her,”
Andy said with a smile.
“At least he gets to meet girls. I wish
some families with girls my age would move here,” Todd complained.
“You’re as bad as Adam,” Joe said. “Why
d’ya want to be around girls for anyway?”
“Just wait a few years, Little Joe, and you’ll
understand,” Andy said sharing a smile with Todd while Joe rolled
his eyes and Hoss cleared his throat and continued.
As I wrote Joe, my favorite
classes are trigonometry and astronomy. Being able to
use the equatorial telescope at the Astronomical Observatory
really allows me to see the wonders in the heavens. The telescope
is five feet in focal length and with it one can observe the planet
Saturn and its rings and even the nebula in Orion. (A nebula
is a mass of dust or gas between stars that can either appear as patches
of light or dark depending on whether it absorbs or reflects radiation
from the stars.)
“Do you understand what
that means, Mr. McKaren?” Hoss asked, totally bewildered by what
Adam had written.
“No, I’m afraid not,” Andy said scratching
his head. “I can’t believe there’s dust up in the heavens.
Did you follow what Adam wrote, Todd?”
“Not the part about neb, whatever he called
it.” He grinned. “Ol’ Adam must really be havin’
fun learnin’ all this stuff, but how in the heck is he gonna use
it here on a ranch?”
“Mista Adam a scholar. He love learning
for own sake. He not care if he use it,” Hop Sing said,
startling the others.
“That’s right,” Hoss said nodding. “Pa
always says Adam just loves to learn things. Fer him,
jest knowin’ is what’s important.
Little Joe was totally bored by all this talk
and spoke up. “C’mon, Hoss. Finish the letter.”
“Okay, punkin. Shore hope I can understand
the rest of it.”
Viewing the heavens is
certainly more interesting than diagramming sentences and discussing
how English grammar has evolved from Old English to Middle English
to Modern English. At least I won’t have to take any more
classes on grammar after this term.”
Take care of yourself and let me know how Chubby
and Beauty are doing.
Affectionately yours,
Adam
“Now we get to read
Pa’s letter!” Joe said excitedly.
“I don’t know about that,” Andy started to
say but Hoss interrupted.
“No, it’s okay, Mr. McKaren. Pa gave
us permission before he went on the roundup.”
“All right,” Andy acquiesced. “He didn’t
give me permission so I think Todd and I had better head back
home.”
“He won’t care,” Hoss said. “Besides,
I might need your help understandin’ what Adam wrote.”
With a smile Andy indicated he and Todd would stay.
Hoss opened the letter very carefully and smoothed
the pages before beginning to read.
— 1855
Dear Pa,
It’s spring in Cambridge and that means spring
flowers, rain and mud. I would say that you would not
believe the amount of mud we have to cope with every day, except
that you must have vivid memories of it when you lived in New England.
Spring also means final examinations for this year are approaching.
I have been studying hard and I am confident that I will do well.
I’ve even been doing better in my recitations. I still don’t
like speaking to groups of people, but it doesn’t terrify me as much
as it used to do. I’m even looking ahead to my classes next year
as a sophomore. I almost wish I had entered the School of Medicine
so I could study anatomy under Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes. I have
heard that James Russell Lowell has accepted a position as a professor
of modern languages and since I’ve read and admired “The Biglow Papers”,
I would really like to take at least one class under him.
I am not spending all my time studying.
Aaron and I still go to the gymnasium to exercise. I still visit
Grandfather on the weekend and I still call on Julia every Saturday
afternoon. I’ve seen Richard III and Hamlet with the Quincys
and I’ve also attended symphonies by Mozart, Beethoven and Brahms
with them. I’ve even been to a few balls where I could dance
with Julia. Dancing is the closest I can get to being alone
with her. Grandfather tells me to be patient even though he
admits he allowed you take Mother for walks. I wish I could convince
Mr. Quincy that my intentions are strictly honorable. I mean,
there’s nothing dishonorable in a few kisses, and that’s all
I want.
“Ewww! Adam wants
to kiss a girl!” Joe yelled making a face. He glared at
Todd. “Do you wanna kiss a girl?”
“Not just any girl, but I wouldn’t mind kissing
a pretty one,” Todd said with a smirk while Joe squeezed his
eyes shut and stuck his tongue out to demonstrate his revulsion.
“All right, that’s enough from both of you,”
Andy said. “Let Hoss read.”
We’ll have our summer
break in a couple of months. I wish I could come home because
I miss you all so much. Aaron has invited me to stay with his
family on their farm and I’ve accepted. It will be interesting
to see how much farm life and ranch life have in common.
Affectionately yours,
Adam
“Well, we’ve got to be
going,” Andy said as Hoss carefully re-folded Ben’s letter and
put it back in the envelope. “Thanks for letting us hear
Adam’s letters, boys. I’ll be by in a couple of days to see how
you’re doing.”
Adam and Aaron had been calling on Julia and
Elsie at their homes every Saturday afternoon for three months,
but still the Quincys and the Wilders resisted any suggestion
that their daughters accompany their beaus on an outing. They
were bemoaning their situations to Thomas, who had recently begun
spending time with a young woman named Amy Cabot, when Thomas’s face
assumed a crafty expression.
“Perhaps if you suggest to Mr. Quincy and Mr.
Wilder that the six of us—Adam and Julia, Aaron and Elise and
Amy and I—go on a picnic they might be more agreeable. And,
after all, we don’t have to stay together the entire time.
We could play a game of croquet so we could honestly say we did that,
but we could spend the rest of the picnic paired off as couples.”
“I think that would work!” Aaron said excitedly
shaking Thomas’s hand while Adam clapped him on the back.
Sure enough, the Quincys and the Wilders were
entirely amenable to the group outing. Each of the girls
would bring a hamper so there would be plenty of food and all the
young people prayed that the following Saturday would be sunny.
“This will be my first opportunity to steal
a kiss from Julia,” Adam stated excitedly as he dressed Saturday
morning, which was as clear and sunny as they had hoped for.
“I was beginning to think I’d always have to court her with her
family in the room there with us.” He raised one eyebrow speculatively.
“Are they as strict in Shelburne Falls”
“No,” Aaron said candidly, “not as strict as
Boston. The young men are allowed to take the young
women for buggy rides or to go for walks. Or at least some
fathers allow it. Once I asked my father why it was so hard
to be alone with a girl you liked, and he told me that when I was
the father of a daughter, I’d understand. I do in a way.
I know how I’d feel if anyone disrespected my little sister.”
Adam said slowly, “My pa told me that one kiss
usually needs to another and if you’re not careful, you’ll
find yourself in a compromising position. But I’d never
behave that way with Julia and I don’t see how one kiss could
hurt.”
By mutual agreement, the three couples separated
when they reached the river. Adam and Julia picked a
spot beneath a willow tree by the riverbank for their picnic.
Julia shook out the blanket and seated herself and Adam dropped
beside her with the picnic hamper. They ate and conversed comfortably.
She had packed them each a cherry tart and as she was eating hers,
he watched her pink tongue slowly slide around her lips, making sure
she got all the sweet filling. She saw something different in
his eyes and blushing she asked softly, “What are you thinking?”
“About a poem,” he replied softly:
There is a garden in
her face,
Where
roses and white lilies grow;
A heavenly paradise is that
place,
Wherein
all pleasant fruits do flow.
There cherries grow which
none can buy,
Till ‘Cherry-ripe’ themselves
do cry.
Those cherries fairly
do enclose
Of orient
pearl a double row,
Which when her lovely laughter
shows,
They
look like rosebuds filled with snow.
Yet them nor peer nor prince
can buy
Till ‘Cherry-ripe’ themselves
do cry.
He gently traced the outline of her lips with
one finger. “Do they cry ‘Cherry-ripe?’” he whispered.
In answer, she moved her lips to his. When they broke apart,
she said in a breathless voice, “I can quote poetry as well: ‘Let him
kiss me with the kisses of his mouth; for thy love is better than wine.’”
Their kisses grew bolder but when his hands
moved to caress her breasts, she reluctantly pulled away from
him. “I think we’d better find the others, Adam,” she said
softly looking up at him through her lashes.
“I think you’re right,” he replied in a voice
he hoped was calm. Now he understood what Pa had meant
about one kiss leading to another. He turned away using
the pretext of gathering the remains of their picnic to prevent
her from noticing how their kisses had affected him. “M-may
I see you again, Julia?” he asked turning toward her.
“Yes, I’d like that very much,” she answered
and he saw the faint color in her cheeks.
They soon found Aaron and Elsie, and judging
from their demeanor, Adam thought they had also been spooning.
“We thought it was time to play croquet,” Julia said brightly
and Elsie replied in the same artificially cheerful voice, “Aaron
and I thought the same thing.” Then she said in a more normal
tone, “I wonder where Thomas and Amy are?”
“I think we should go ahead and get set up,”
Adam answered. “By the time we’re done, I imagine they’ll
find us,” and his prediction was correct. The other couple
wandered over looking a bit disheveled, which made Julia and Elsie
blush while Adam and Aaron exchanged knowing glances. Adam
wanted to keep his mind off Julia and the sweet, heady kisses they’d
shared so he forced himself to concentrate on the game. At first
Aaron and Thomas played poorly, their thoughts on their sweethearts
rather than the croquet game, but it didn’t take long for their natural
competitiveness to assert itself. By the time the game was over,
they realized that they needed to hurry to meet the curfew sat by the
girls’ families. Adam held Julia’s arm possessively as they walked
along while she held her parasol with her free hand, dropping glances
at him beneath her lashes.
“I had a marvelous time, Adam,” she said softly
as he walked her to her front door.
“So did I,” he replied. “Perhaps if the
weather is nice next Saturday we could go on another picnic.”
“I’m sure my parents would agree if the six
of us went,” she said with a radiant smile.
“Goodbye then until next Saturday,” Adam said
quietly and took her hand and pressed a kiss on the palm, causing
Julia’s cheeks to grow pink and her pulse to race before she turned
and ran inside.
Aaron and Thomas were waiting for him at the
ferry as he walked up whistling a happy tune, his hands in his
pockets. “Something tells me Romeo finally got his chance
to kiss Juliet,” Thomas teased.
“And it looked like you and Amy had more than
one kiss,” Adam retorted.
“Yes, I’m going to have to be careful,” Thomas
said with a smug grin. “Amy’s very pretty, but she is
hunting for a husband and I am most definitely not hunting for
a wife. I probably should avoid being alone with her, but I
don’t think I can forgo her kisses. I’ll just have to make sure
we don’t do more than kiss.”
“And that’s easier said than done,” Adam stated
baldly. “I’ve kissed girls before, but this was different.
I suppose we shouldn’t be alone either, but all I can think about
is being with Julia again.”
“I know what you mean,” Aaron said shyly.
“Now I have two lovesick Romeos to deal with,”
Thomas groaned. “Let’s get you back to the dormitory
so you can get your minds off girls and on your studies.”
From then on the three couples went on outings
together every Saturday, or at least that was the impression
they gave the girls’ parents. Adam and Julia found that kisses
led to caresses and after a few weeks it was becoming more and more
difficult to control their desires. Adam thought of Julia constantly
and at night he dreamed of her, dreams that left the evidence of his
passion on his bedclothes. He knew that this was the girl with
whom he wanted to spend the rest of his life, and he was sure that his
family would love her, too. Pa would let him have some land to build
a house for Julia. He could imagine their life together—she would
cook and keep house while he worked on the ranch and in the evenings they
could read and discuss literature or they could sing, or he could teach
her to play chess. And the nights He grew excited just thinking about
their nights. It would be so idyllic
One afternoon in May on the banks of the Charles
after they had shared a picnic hamper he took her hand in his,
gently stroking it as he gathered up the courage to speak.
He’d practiced the words he would use until he had them by rote,
but as he looked into her soft brown eyes, as melting as a doe’s,
his carefully prepared speech vanished like smoke.
“Julia, I love you more than I can put into
words. I know I still have three more years of college
to complete before we could marry, but if you wouldn’t mind a long
engagement I’m not putting this very well, am I?” he said wryly.
She smiled at him and he read the love in her eyes. “Julia, will
you be my wife?”
“I love you, Adam, and I don’t mind waiting—“
He took her in his arms then and kissed her,
more passionately than he’d dared before.
“Adam,” she said breathlessly, “do you still
plan on returning to your family’s ranch?”
“Of course,” he said smiling lovingly at her
before kissing her again. “They will love you and you’ll
love the Ponderosa,” he added, holding her close to him.
“No, Adam, I won’t,” she replied, pulling out
of his embrace. “If you insist on returning to Utah, then
my answer must be no,” she said, her voice ending in a sob.
“But you love me and I love you. How
can you say no?” he asked in an anguished voice.
“Because I know that I would be miserable living
that far away from my family in an uncivilized wilderness.
Oh Adam, if you’d just agree to live here in Boston, we could be
so happy.”
“Boston isn’t my home,” he said woodenly.
“I don’t want to live here the rest of my life.”
“And I don’t want to live anywhere else,” she
replied sadly. “I’m sorry, Adam, but I cannot be your wife.”
With that she turned away from him and ran toward her home.
Adam stood staring after her until she was
out of sight. Then he turned and headed in the opposite
direction, blinking back the burning tears threatening to spill
out of his eyes. He was heedless of his surroundings, walking
blindly until he heard a voice calling out his name and a hand reached
out to grab his arm.
“Hey, Cartwright. Didn’t you hear me
call you?” queried Fred Thompkins curiously.
“No. No, sorry,” Adam replied gruffly.
“We’re on the way to the tavern to play some
billiards and have a few beers. Care to join us?”
“Sure,” Adam answered. Maybe if he drank
enough beer, he could forget how much he hurt. However,
when they reached the tavern he decided to order rum. He
took his drink and sat in a solitary corner, ignoring his friends.
A couple of hours later Aaron and Thomas walked in. They
had looked all over for Adam and Julia and when they couldn’t find
them, they hurriedly escorted Elsie and Amy home and decided to try
the tavern they usually frequented, sensing that something had happened
between Adam and Julia. They were surprised to see Adam sitting
by himself, looking totally inebriated. They saw Fred and some
other freshmen playing billiards and approached them first.
“We invited him to play,” Fred said to them
uneasily, “but he left us and has been drinking steadily the entire
time we’ve been here.”
“Didn’t seem himself so we decided to leave
him alone,” Rob Fisher added. “He’s not drinking beer
like he usually does. He’s been ordering rum. I don’t
know how we’ll get him back to the dormitory because he certainly
can’t get there on his own.”
“We’ll see to him,” Aaron assured the others.
As they walked to Adam’s table he said quietly to Thomas, “I think
we’d better take him to Captain Stoddard’s house. It’s closer
than the dormitory.”
“I wonder what happened. I’ve never seen
Adam drink more than a couple of beers,” Thomas said apprehensively.
“I don’t know and he probably won’t say.
You know how closemouthed he is,” Aaron replied.
“True, but in vino veritas,” Thomas
added as they approached the table.
“Uh-yup, maybe the alcohol will loosen his
tongue so we can find out what’s wrong,” Aaron agreed.
They had reached Adam’s table and he put out a hand to shake Adam’s
shoulder. “Come on, boy, it’s time to get you home.”
Adam opened his eyes and peered blearily at
his friends. “Go ‘way. Leave me ‘lone.”
“Can’t do that. What’s wrong, Adam?
Why did you get yourself in such a state?” Thomas asked.
“Omnia vincit amor,” Adam slurred.
“‘S not true. Love doesn’t conquer all,” and his voice
ended in a sob.
“Something happened between you and Julia?”
Aaron asked.
“’S over. Now go ‘way an’ leave me ‘lone.”
“No, my friend, we’re taking you to your grandfather’s
house so you can sleep this off,” Thomas said firmly.
“Aaron, grab his other arm.”
Adam tried to shove them away but they easily
avoided his hands and hauled him to his feet. They half
dragged him out of the tavern to Captain Stoddard’s house on Unity
Street while he dolefully sang Barbara Allen. Thomas
banged the doorknocker loudly while Adam mournfully warbled, “’They
buried her in the old churchyard/Sweet William's grave was neigh
hers/And from his grave grew a red, red rose/From hers a cruel briar.’”
Captain Stoddard threw open the door.
“What in blazes—“
“I’m afraid Adam’s drunk, Captain, and we brought
him here to sleep it off,” Aaron explained.
“I can see that, and hear it,” the Captain
growled. “If you two can get him to his bed, I’ll take
it from there.”
“We’ll manage. I know the way, Thomas.”
Adam was almost deadweight but they dragged him up the stairs
and tossed him on his bed, the Captain right behind them.
“Thanks, lads. I’ll take care of him
now,” the Captain said, clapping them each on the back.
“Do you know what’s behind this?” he asked worriedly. “I’ve
never known him to drink more than a couple of beers or a glass of
wine.”
“He was like this when we found him, but we
think it has something to do with Julia Quincy,” Aaron replied
anxiously.
“He said something about love not conquering
all,” Thomas added. “That and he’s been singing Barbara
Allen over and over. I think he sees himself as Sweet
William and Julia as Hard-hearted Barbara.”
“Maybe I can get the truth from him tomorrow
when he’s sober. Can you see yourselves out? I need
to roll him on his side. Don’t want him to choke on his
own vomit.”
“Don’t worry about us,” Aaron said quickly
and they left.
The Captain placed pillows behind Adam to prevent
him rolling over on his back and left him. Later he heard
the sound of Adam retching and rushed in to hand him a basin
to be sick in and wipe his clammy face with a damp cloth when he
finished. The Captain poured a glass of water and gave it
to Adam saying, “Drink this and then go back to sleep. I’ll
fix you a cure for a hangover tomorrow.” Adam still looked green
but he silently obeyed the older man.
Next morning Captain Stoddard walked into Adam’s
bedroom and handed him a glass. "Best cure for a hangover
I know of. Drink it down, lad, and then tell me what went
wrong between you and Julia Quincy,” he commanded.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Adam answered
sharply, turning his back to his grandfather.
Captain Stoddard put his hand on his shoulder
and turned him around. “You should have thought of that
before drowning your sorrows in rum,” he said sternly.
“Liquor loosens a man’s tongue and you already told Aaron and young
Collingsworth that love doesn’t conquer all and they seem to feel
you view Julia as a modern hard-hearted Barbara Allen. You
may as well tell me what happened.”
Adam dropped his eyes and said softly, “I asked
her to marry me after I finished college. She said not
if I planned on returning to our ranch.” He looked at the
Captain then—a hurt, bewildered look that reminded the Captain how
young he was. “She said she loved me, but she’d only marry me
on her terms.”
“I know it’s hard for you to believe this now
while you are hurting but, Adam, Julia’s turning down your proposal
is for the best,” Captain Stoddard said as gently as he could.
“You don’t understand,” Adam replied fiercely.
“Adam, don’t you see that it would have been
far more painful for you both if you and Julia had married,
moved to the Ponderosa, and then she realized how miserable she
was separated from her family and the way of life she’s always known.”
“I would have made her happy,” Adam retorted.
“In time she would have come to love the Ponderosa as much as
I do.”
The Captain started to say more, but instead
he simply sighed in frustration. It was too much to expect
the boy to realize that Julia Quincy was not the stuff that pioneers
are made of. She had spent her entire life surrounded by a loving
family that provided her all the comforts Boston could offer.
If Adam had wanted to live in Boston, then she would have been a perfect
wife—beautiful, charming, and gracious. She would have managed
his household efficiently, raised their children and supported his
career. Captain Stoddard could only be grateful to her for realizing
that her love for Adam was not great enough to overcome her unwillingness
to live where she would have to forego the social life she had always
known—visiting friends, attending dinner parties, balls, concerts, and
the theater—and instead live a life of relative isolation without the
comforts she took for granted. He looked at Adam’s stony expression
and decided it was best to leave him alone.
As he turned to leave, Adam spoke up.
“I’d rather my father not know about this.”
“That’s your decision,” the Captain replied.
“I promise I won’t mention it to him.”
Adam submerged himself entirely in his studies.
Except for the time he spent playing baseball (and he had to
be persuaded that it wasn’t fair to the team if he quit) and visiting
his grandfather, his world was confined to his classrooms and
his study. Even on the baseball field he was morose and withdrawn.
His classmates didn’t know what to make of the change in his behavior
while Aaron, Thomas and the Captain grew increasingly anxious.
The Captain even considered breaking his word and writing Ben.
Gradually, the pain lessened and Adam could glimpse Julia on Sundays
at church without feeling as though a knife was being twisted in
his guts (although each did his or her best to avoid the other).
Eventually, he began spending time with his friends engaging in their
old pastimes. If it hurt to know Aaron was still spending his Saturday
afternoons with Elsie, he kept it to himself, for he despised himself
for feeling envious of Aaron’s happiness.
Chapter 4
Weeks had gone by without a letter from Adam
and Ben was starting to worry. Abel wrote and he didn’t
mentioned anything about Adam being unwell, so why haven’t we
heard from him? Ben wondered. He knew Hoss was concerned
and Joe had begun having nightmares again just as he had after his
mother died. The only thing that would calm his fears was a letter
from his brother, but none arrived.
As was their custom, the Cartwrights traveled
to Mormon Station for the Fourth of July celebration even though
none of them was in a very festive mood. Even Hoss wasn’t
cheered much by the thought of all the pie, cake and cookies he could
eat after the baking contest. Ben told Hoss to watch Joe while
he unloaded the hamper and blanket for their picnic. Will
Cass saw them and came running over.
“Hello Ben, Hoss, Joe,” he said with a friendly
smile. “Knew you’d be in town for the celebration so I
wanted to give you this. Letter arrived day yesterday and
I knew you’d been looking for one from Cambridge for weeks.”
“I sure have,” Ben said grinning from ear to
ear while Hoss and Joe shouted their joy. “I think we
have time to read it before we eat, don’t you boys?”
“Shore do, Pa!” Hoss said and Joe shouted,
“Read it now, Pa!”
Ben tore open the letter eagerly and began
to read.
— 1855
Dear Family,
First off I want to apologize for taking so
long to write. I’ve been really busy studying but I know
that’s no excuse. At least the studying paid off. Final
examinations are over now and I can tell you that I placed third
in my class. (Thomas placed second and Aaron placed fourth.)
We’re all feeling proud of ourselves, and as for Grandfather, he
is about ready to burst all the buttons on his waistcoat.
Yesterday was Class Day. It begins with a prayer
by the class chaplain and then the entire class, accompanied
by a band of musicians, marches to the President’s House where
they are served a light lunch. After lunch, the class escorts
the College officials in a procession to the meetinghouse of the
First Parish where there is short program. After the program,
the fun begins. Tables are set up in the Yard loaded with
all kinds of food and there is dancing in Harvard Hall and on the
grass outside. This goes on until 4:30 in the afternoon.
At 4:30, the members of the Senior class run around the Yard cheering,
“Rah-rah-rah!” at each building. At five o’clock, it is time
for dancing around the Liberty Tree. All the other trees
in the Yard are full of boys from town who climb them so they can
watch the fun.
The Seniors, wearing truly bizarre hats, grab
hands and run around the tree just as if they were playing Ring
Around the Rosy. The Junior class joins the ring next, then
the Sophomores and finally we Freshmen join the circle. Then
we all try to jump up and grab some of the wreath of flowers high
up in the tree. Aaron and I took turns climbing on each other’s
shoulders so we got some of the best blossoms. Everyone keeps
the blossom or leaf he plucked as a souvenir of the day. As
Class Day comes to an end, the Yard is hung with different colored Chinese
lanterns. There is music and singing and more dancing. It’s
a beautiful sight and I can’t really do it justice.
Tomorrow Aaron’s father is arriving to take
us to Shelburne Falls. Massachusetts Hall is only for freshmen,
so next year Aaron and I will be living at one of the other halls.
Aaron is taking his belongings home while I am leaving most of
mine with Grandfather. (I’m taking one suit to wear to church,
my canvas pants and my work shirts. In fact I bought a few
more because I’ll need them on the farm.) Since I can’t come
home for a visit, I’m looking forward to meeting Aaron’s family and
spending time on their farm. Aaron’s brother David is two years
older than Hoss is and he has a little sister, Docia, who is two years
younger. His family also has some saddle horses and I can’t tell
you how much I am looking forward to riding again. I expect to
help on the farm, but Aaron says we’ll still have time to have fun.
I promise that I’ll write at least once while
I’m at Shelburne Falls.
Affectionately yours,
Adam
“I’d shore like to ‘ve
seen Adam and them other fellers dancin’ around that tree,” Hoss
said with a chuckle.
“Yeah, and jumpin’ up to grab some flowers,”
Joe added with a giggle.
The three Cartwrights were now in a celebratory
mood and thoroughly enjoyed the Fourth of July festivities.
Hoss won the shooting contest and Ben came in second in the horseshoe
game. Both boys participated in the contest to catch the
greased pig, but it was Ross Marquette who caught the pig.
On the way home they sang songs until Joe fell asleep. Hoss
cared for the team while Ben carried Joe inside and put him to bed
after pulling off his boots.
Hoss was waiting for him when he stepped out
of the room, carefully closing the door. “It’s time for
you to be getting ready for bed,” he said quietly.
“I jest wanna talk fer a minute when Little
Joe ain’t around,” Hoss replied with a faint smile. “Pa,
Adam has been writin’ about that Julia Quincy in every letter—how
beautiful she is and how wonderful she is. This time he didn’t
write nothin’ about her. I thought mebbe he was fallin’ in
love with her but now ”
“I had been thinking the same thing,” Ben said
with a wry grin. “Knowing your brother, I wouldn’t be
surprised if we never know what happened.” He saw the puzzled
look on Hoss’s guileless face and said gently, “Sometimes the first
girl a young man loves isn’t the right girl for him. I think
that may be what happened to Adam.”
“What about you?” Hoss asked, surprising Ben.
“The first girl I ever loved was Adam’s mother
and she was definitely the right girl,” Ben replied with a
sad smile. “I was a little older than Adam when I first
met her, the second officer on her father’s ship. She was
there to meet him when The Wanderer docked. Loveliest girl
I’d ever seen. Captain Stoddard had taken a liking to me and
invited me home to supper and afterward he suggested Elizabeth and
I go for a walk. There I was strolling through Boston Common
with the prettiest girl I’d ever seen, and I was so tongue-tied
I couldn’t think of a word to say to her.”
Hoss saw his father smile and said mischievously,
“I’ll bet Adam wasn’t tongue-tied with Julia.”
Ben had to chuckle at that. “No, your
older brother is rarely at a loss for words.” He then added
more seriously, “And he’s very good at concealing what he really
feels.”
After a moment Hoss said slowly, “What about
my mama? Were you tongue-tied with her?”
“No,” Ben answered with a rueful smile.
“I’m sorry to say I was very rude to her the first time we met.
She was so kind to me—offering me medicine for Adam’s sore throat—but
I was ashamed that I had to accept her help for Adam’s sake.
And even though it had been five years since Adam’s mother had died,
I was still carrying around a heavy load of anger and guilt.”
“Guilt?” Hoss asked in bewilderment.
“When the woman you love dies giving birth
to your child, it is hard not to feel guilt.” He paused and said
thoughtfully, “It was your mother who made me see that I needed
to accept Elizabeth’s loss and let go of the anger and the guilt.”
He changed his tone then saying, “Now, Adam loved your mother right from
the first. He kept telling me what a nice lady she was.”
Hoss smiled at that. “She loved him,
too, didn’t she?” he said thoughtfully. “Just like he
was her own little boy. Just like Mama loved me and Adam.”
“That’s right, son,” Ben replied gently stroking
Hoss’s fine, silky hair. “Now, I think it’s time you
went to sleep,” and he leaned over and kissed his son’s cheek.
“Now, Adam, I know that you and Aaron are on
vacation,” Mr. Wharton said as he drove the surrey containing
Aaron, Adam and their luggage from Cambridge to Shelburne Falls,
“but from what Aaron wrote us I guess ya also know that ya can’t
take a vacation from carin’ for the stock.”
“I’m happy to help, Mr. Wharton,” Adam replied
earnestly. “Truth be told, I’ve missed being around livestock,
although I can’t say I’ve missed mucking out their stalls,” he
added with a huge grin and Aaron and Mr. Wharton laughed loudly.
“You help Aaron with his barn chores and the
rest of the day the two of you can spend as you please—at least
until it’s haying time. I expect ya’ve had experience with
that?” and Adam nodded. “More help we have, the quicker we
can git it done. Then it’ll be time for you two college boys
to head back to Cambridge.”
Aaron and his father had a lot of catching
up to do, so the first day of their journey Adam simply enjoyed
the scenery. It was very different from home, but still beautiful
with rolling hills and green meadows. They traveled as far
as Lowell that first day. The first thing Adam noticed as they
approached the town were the brick buildings along the river behind
a brick wall.
“Do you know what those buildings are?” he
asked the Whartons.
“Cotton mills,” Mr. Wharton answered.
“Lowell was built here at the Pawtucket Falls on the Merrimack
River because the water provides a source of power. Girls from
the farms hereabouts come to Lowell to work in the mills to earn
money for their families.”
“Do you think we’d have time to look around
one of the mills?” Adam asked hopefully.
“Adam’s interested in engineering,” Aaron explained.
“Uh-yup,” Mr. Wharton said, nodding his head.
“Should be another hour of daylight. You boys jest make
sure you get back to our inn by dark.”
Adam and Aaron made their way from the inn
to the Boott Mills. “This is amazing,” Adam said, taking
in the entire complex. On one side of the canal were the rectangular
four-story brick buildings with dormer-lit gable roofs and water
wheels. On the other side of the canal were the boarding houses
for the girls working at the mills, and they tipped their hats to the
young ladies gathered outside.
“I wish we could go inside and look around,”
Adam said gazing at the mills regretfully. “I’d love to
get a closer look at the construction and design.”
“You’re going to be in Massachusetts for three
more years,” Aaron replied. “Maybe next term we can come
here some Saturday and have a closer look. I’d like to
examine the complex more closely myself.”
All too soon it was time for them to head back
to the inn. They set out early the next morning and made
it as far as Townsend and the next afternoon brought them to the
Wharton’s farm.
As soon as they entered the farmyard, a woman
stepped out on the front porch, wiping her hands on her apron.
“Hello, Ma,” Aaron called jumping out of the
surrey. Adam watched with an aching sense of loss as
Aaron ran to his mother and enfolded her in a hug, picking her
off the ground and twirling her around.
“Land sakes, Aaron, put me down,” she laughed.
“I can see ya didn’t learn any manners at Harvard.” She
looked at him significantly and with a sheepish grin he said,
“Mother, I’d like you to meet Adam. Adam, this is my mother.”
“I’m pleased to meet ya, Adam,” she said extending
her hand. “Aaron’s written us so much about ya that
I feel yer a part of the family.”
“My family feels the same about him,” Adam
replied taking her hand and smiling shyly. “I really
appreciate you letting me spend the summer vacation here.”
“Happy to have you,” she answered with a smile
that awoke an answering one from Adam. She turned to
her husband then. “David’s out in the south pasture and
I don’t know where Docia’s run off to. She’s supposed to
be goin’ berryin so we can have raspberry cobbler for supper.”
She noted Adams eyes lit up at that and smiled inwardly.
“Aaron,” she said turning back to him, “you show Adam the spare bedroom.
I’ve got to get back to churnin’.” With that she bustled back
inside the farmhouse.
“Uh, Mr. Wharton,” Adam said hesitantly.
“Aaron told me that you keep some saddle horses—“
“Sure, we have a couple of Saddlebreds.
If you and Aaron want to go riding, then yer welcome to use either
my Blaze or Aaron’s brother’s gelding, Prince. Actually,”
he said thoughtfully, looking Adam over, “as tall as ya
are, ya’d do better with Blaze. He’s fifteen hands high and
Prince is a little short of fifteen hands. Blaze is a mahogany
bay and Prince is a blue roan. Aaron’s little sister has a
sweet little dappled gray mare but she’s only a little over fourteen
hands high.”
“I’ve never ridden a Saddlebred,” Adam commented.
“My mount, Beauty, is a Quarter Horse. She’s wonderful
at cutting cattle and she can run like the wind if she gets the
chance.”
“I’ve seen Quarter Horses, but I prefer Saddlebreds.
They have an easy gait, and they have lots of stamina.”
“I’m looking forward to riding Blaze,” Adam
replied. “I’ve really missed having a mount.”
“I’d like to see Caesar now, if that’s all
right with you, Pa? And I could let Adam meet Blaze,”
Aaron asked eagerly.
“Git on with ya then,” Mr. Wharton laughed.
“But change out of yer “college” clothes before ya go for a ride.”
As they approached the door to the mud porch,
a young girl of ten or eleven, dressed in cherry-red calico with
her dark brown hair braided in pigtails, burst through the door
and ran right into Adam. He caught her saying, “Are you
all right?”
“I’m fine. Sorry.” She looked up
at him and her cheeks grew red enough to rival her dress.
“Adam, this is my baby sister, Docia,” Aaron
said with a huge grin. “Docia, this is my roommate, Adam
Cartwright.”
“Pleased to meet you, Docia,” Adam said extending
his hand.
“P-pleased to m-meet you, Adam,” she stammered,
placing her hand in his and never taking her eyes from his face.
“I’m goin’ berryin’. Would ya like to come?” she asked
shyly and swung a bucket.
“Maybe another time,” Adam replied politely
and saw the little girl’s face fall.
“Adam and I are going riding,” Aaron added.
“But we’ll have plenty of chances to go berrying with you.
Let’s go change,” he said to Adam.
The two boys hurried through the door leaving
Docia staring after them. Her mother stuck her head out
the door. “Ya best git goin’.”
“I am, Ma. Aaron’s roommate is so handsome,”
she said dreamily. “Handsomer than any boys around here.”
“Uh-yup, he is handsome,” Mrs. Wharton replied
looking at Docia with narrowed eyes. “He won’t git any
raspberry cobbler for dessert though unless ya go pick me some
berries.”
“I’m goin’,” Docia replied with a smile and
ran off toward the berry patch leaving her mother shaking her
head and then calling, “Put on yer sunbonnet or you’ll be brown
as an Indian!”
Adam didn’t want to take the time to unpack
properly so he rummaged through his valise until he found his
blue calico work shirt, his canvas pants and his boots. He
changed quickly but Aaron was ready first and waited for him so
they could head to the stable together.
“I guess your horse is a Saddlebred?” Adam
said to Aaron as they walked to barn.
“Uh-yup. Caesar is a liver chestnut.
He’s a great horse, always eager to please.”
“I prefer a mount with a mind of her own, one
that’s a challenge,” Adam replied with a grin.
“Why am I not surprised,” Aaron said rolling
his eyes. “Since we haven’t ridden in months, I think
this had better be a short ride.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Adam said ruefully.
He had to admit that Blaze had the smoothest
gait of any horse he’d ridden. He would have preferred
a mount with a bit more spirit but it was marvelous to be on horseback
again. He knew Aaron was enjoying it just as much and they
rode longer than they intended.
“That was great, but we’re going to pay for
it,” Aaron remarked to Adam with a wry grin as they untacked the
horses. “It’s not Saturday night, but maybe I can talk Ma
into letting us each take a nice hot bath.”
“As long as you boys haul in the water to be
heated, you can take a bath tonight,” Mrs. Wharton said.
“After supper. That way you can change into your nightshirts
and go straight to bed.”
Adam experienced déjà-vu as they
all gathered in the dining room around the large dining table
with Mr. Wharton at the head and Mrs. Wharton at foot. He
and Aaron sat on one side with Docia sitting across from him and
David across from Aaron. Mr. Wharton said grace and then they
all began passing the food around. It was so reminiscent of
the meals his family had shared when Marie was alive that Adam felt
his eyes begin to burn with unshed tears.
Docia was watching him closely and said in
a worried tone, “Are ya okay, Adam?”
“I’m fine,” Adam replied gruffly.
Mrs. Wharton kicked Docia under the table and
shook her head imperceptibly so Docia hushed and everyone else
conversed normally. David peppered the two scholars with
questions about Harvard and answering them took Adam’s mind off
his homesickness.
He discovered that the Whartons had a copper
bathtub in their washhouse, one that you could lie down and
soak in, not like the washtub his family used. It felt so
good that Adam decided then and there that they would have one
in the new house he was planning. He enjoyed himself so much
that Aaron had to pound on the door to remind him that he wasn’t
the only one wanting a bath.
“Sorry,” he said sheepishly as he emerged barefoot,
wearing his striped cotton nightshirt, his uncombed hair a tangle
of curls reminiscent of his little brother’s. “I guess
I got carried away.”
“That’s all right,” Aaron replied with a little
grin. “See you in the morning. I trust you know how
to milk a cow?”
“I’ve had a little practice, but we raise beef
cattle, not dairy,” Adam replied with a yawn. “I’m sure
it’ll come back to me.”
He was just getting ready to open his bedroom
door when Docia stuck her head out of the door across the hall.
“Hello, Adam,” she said smiling. “I just wanted to say good-night.”
“Good-night,” he replied, reddening just a
little at being caught in his nightshirt by a female, even if
she were a little girl.
“Gosh, I wish I had curly hair like yours,”
she said honestly. “It’s pretty.”
“Thank you,” Adam said, feeling his cheeks
flush with color.
“Could I touch your curls?”
“Docia, that wouldn’t be proper. In fact, our
standing here in our nightclothes talking isn’t proper,” Adam
said gruffly, his face growing redder.
“Please. I just want to see if they’re
as soft as they look.”
Deciding the quickest way out of his predicament
was to concede, Adam bent down. He felt her fingers running
through his hair, and abruptly he stood up. “There,” he
said brusquely. “Now I’m going to bed and I think you should
do the same.”
“They feel as soft as Ma’s silk dress,” Docia
said looking at him rapturously. For once, he was at a
loss for words and simply closed his door. He got into bed
and lay on his back with his head resting on his arms. Surely
a little girl like Docia is too young even for calf love, isn’t she?
He shook his head. If Ross or Todd or Carl ever found out
about this, I’d never live it down.
The morning of the first day of haying was
hot and sultry. Adam quickly stripped off his nightshirt
and slipped his canvas work pants on over his cotton drawers
and then put on one of his plain unbleached muslin work shirts.
There wasn’t time to get hot water so he shaved with the lukewarm
water in his washbasin.
“Sun’s comin’ up. Come on,” Aaron said
from the doorway.
“Haven’t made the bed yet,” Adam replied as
he bent to begin straightening the bedclothes.
“Adam Cartwright, sometimes you are as fussy
as an old maid,” Aaron complained as he began straightening
the other side of the bed. “Docia would love to make it for
you,” and Adam threw a pillow at his head. Smiling, Aaron
caught it saying, “And even if she didn’t, what’s the harm?”
Before Adam could even open his mouth Aaron answered his own question.
“I know, I know. You just can’t bear things to be untidy.
You’ll make someone a wonderful wife someday,” he said with a laugh
as he ducked Adam’s playful punch.
They finished their barn chores quickly and
were laughing when they walked through the mud porch door into
the kitchen. They quieted and took their places at the table
and Mr. Wharton said grace. Then as the platters of food were
being passed around he turned to Adam and said, “Since you’re our guest
I’ll let you choose. Would you rather mow or rake?”
“I’d rather mow,” Adam decided.
“All right. Aaron, you and David can
rake and Adam and I will mow. I sharpened the scythes
last night so they’re good and sharp.”
They all ate a huge breakfast of bacon, eggs,
and fried potatoes with plenty of toast slathered in butter and
strawberry or raspberry preserves. Once they finished, the
men went outside, putting on their broad-brimmed straw hats, and
headed for the fields. Adam had been mowing hay since he was
twelve, when his father felt he was old enough to safely handle a scythe,
and he soon fell into the remembered rhythm. The swishing sound
of the scythes as they cut through the grass blended with the buzzing
of insects. The sun beat down unmercifully, and heat rose from
the earth in shimmering waves. If Adam had been home, he would have
taken off his shirt, but since none of the others did, he just rolled
his sleeves up over his elbows and unbuttoned his shirt halfway to his
waist, exposing the mat of curly black hair on his chest.
About the middle of the morning, he heard Docia’s
voice and saw her approaching carrying a pail, her pigtails
swaying as she walked. She walked right past her brothers
and father to hand him the dipper. Adam was expecting water
and was startled to see a creamy, frothy liquid. “It’s eggnog,”
Docia said shyly. “Mama and I made it. We used plenty
of cream and milk and eggs and there’s ice in the pail to keep it
cold.”
Adam lifted the dipper to his mouth and let
the cold liquid slide down his throat. “It’s delicious.
Thanks, Docia,” he said dimpling and was amused to see her blush
scarlet to match her red calico sunbonnet.
“We’d like some eggnog, too, Docia,” Mr. Wharton
said winking at Adam while her two brothers snickered.
“It’s just good manners to offer it to our
guest first,” she replied haughtily, and when her father wasn’t
looking, she stuck out her tongue at her brothers.
“Would our guest like some more?” Aaron said
bowing deeply to Adam.
“Don’t mind them, Docia,” Adam said kindly.
“I would like some more of that delicious eggnog if there’s enough.”
“Mrs. Wharton always make plenty so go ahead
and have another dipperful. Have two if you’d like.
You’ve earned it,” Mr. Wharton said with a grin.
“This is the best eggnog I’ve ever had.
Do you think your mother would share her recipe? I’d like
to send it to our cook. He could make a batch for us to
drink at haying.”
“Sure,” Docia said with a smile. Then
she frowned a little wrinkling her turned-up nose. “Isn’t
he Chinese? Can he read English?’
“I taught him our alphabet and he taught me
to read some Chinese characters. But my father can read
it to him if he has a problem. My brother Hoss would really
love this,” and Docia positively glowed at his praise. There
was enough eggnog in the pail for each of them to have several dippers
and they felt refreshed and cooler.
After Docia departed, the men went back to
work. Adam felt all the muscles in his back and arms
begin to ache and he was relieved when in the afternoon Docia
returned with another big pail of cold eggnog sprinkled heavily
with nutmeg. He had to smile when she once again offered him
the dipper first, and once she was out of earshot the others teased
Adam unmercifully about robbing the cradle and being a lady-killer.
They worked in the hayfield as long as there
was light to see by and then they did their chores by lantern-light.
Mrs. Wharton had prepared a huge supper of ham, mashed turnips,
creamed peas, pickled beets, green beans and fresh bread.
For dessert there was sponge cake and, as a surprise, ice cream.
(Docia had suggested it and she and Mrs. Wharton had managed to
drag out a block of ice from the icehouse and crush it with hammers.)
Adam was starving and ate his fill, especially of the cold ice cream.
The next morning they had another huge breakfast
and then they headed out to the field. Aaron raked the
dried hay into windrows while Mr. Wharton and Adam pitched the
windrows into the hay-rack and David trampled them down until there
was no room in the hay-rack for any more. Mr. Wharton drove the
hayrack to the barn and pitched it into the haymow while Adam and
David cut more hay. When Mr. Wharton returned, they repeated
the process of filling the hayrack. Every day for two weeks (except
Sunday) the men worked from dawn to dusk mowing the hay and storing
it in the haymows. At the end of that time Mr. Wharton said
to Adam and Aaron, “Well, boys, you’ve worked hard and you’ve another
week before returning to Harvard. I think David and I can handle
the chores so you two take the week off and just have fun.”
“Thanks, Pa,” Aaron said with a grin that stretched
from ear to ear. “Adam, you wanna go fishing tomorrow?”
“Sure,” Adam replied with a grin of his own.
“We’ll bring back tomorrow night’s supper, Mrs. Wharton.”
For the next seven days Adam and Aaron just
had fun. They fished, they swam, and they rode. A
few times they talked Mrs. Wharton into making the custard for
ice cream by hauling a block of ice from the icehouse and crushing
it. Mrs. Wharton kept Docia busy helping her so she didn’t
have time to tag along after them, except for one afternoon.
Aaron had taken Adam to the swimming hole and they were skinny-dipping,
their bodies turning golden-brown in the sun. Luckily they were
both in the water when they heard Docia calling them.
“Docia, go back home!” Aaron yelled as he and
Adam submerged everything but their heads.
“I want to swim too!” she retorted and began
unbuttoning her frock.
“Docia, girls do not swim with boys!
Now get out of here!” Aaron shouted.
“Adam, you don’t care, do you?” she said turning
to him with a smile.
“Yes, I do, Docia. Go away right now!”
he said in the same tone of voice he would have used with Little
Joe. Her face crumpled and then she suddenly noticed their
clothes, Adam’s folded neatly. Her eyes grew enormous and she
said in a shocked tone, “You’re skinny-dipping! I’m gonna tell Ma
and Pa!”
“Then they’ll know you sneaked off to pester
us after you’ve been told not,” Aaron retorted.
She stuck out her tongue and then said saucily,
“I could just stay here until you turn into a pair of prunes.”
“Or we could get out of the water and let you
look your fill,” Adam said sarcastically.
“You wouldn’t!” she squealed.
“There’s one way to find out,” he replied and
started to stand up, just enough that she could see his hairy
chest and his well defined biceps and triceps. She took
one look and gave a shriek and ran off.
“What would you have done if she hadn’t run
off?” Aaron asked.
“Sat back down in the water,” Adam replied
with a grin. “You didn’t think I’d really expose myself
to a ten-year-old girl, did you?”
“Naw,” Aaron replied. “But now that you’ve
taught me to play poker, I was just wonderin’ who was going
to call whose bluff.” At that he playfully shoved Adam’s
head under the water and Adam retaliated by jerking his feet
out from under him, causing him to go down with a huge splash.
It was haying time on the Ponderosa as well
and Joe begged to be allowed to help. “I can help rake, Pa.
Hoss said he got to rake when he was six and I bet Adam did, too.
Please, Pa.”
“Hoss was quite a bit bigger when he was six,”
Ben said gently.
“Aw, Pa, please,” Joe whined.
“Joseph, when I say no, I do not want to hear
you arguing with me, or we’ll have a necessary talk. Do
I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir,” Joe replied, his expression petulant,
and Ben was reminded of Adam at the same age when he was thwarted.
“Joe,” he said quietly and reluctantly Joe
met his eyes. “Just so you know, Adam was too small to
help with haying when he was six.”
“Really?” Joe asked, his face brightening.
“Now, Joseph, have I ever lied to you?”
He ruffled his youngest son’s curls. “Hoss is probably
the only six-year-old big enough to rake the fresh mown hay.
You have a job and it’s an important one.”
“That’s right, little brother,” Hoss chimed
in. “All of us would die of thirst ifn you didn’t bring
us water to drink.”
One evening a few days after the haying was
finished, Ben announced at dinner, “Your brother will be heading
back to Harvard in a few days.
“I hope he writes us about what it was like
staying on Aaron’s farm like he promised,” Hoss said.
“I bet they just had fun all summer,” Joe stated.
“Didn’t work hard like we did. Right, Hoss?”
“I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” Ben replied.
“Farmers work just as hard as ranchers and they have stock to
take care of just as we do.”
“When’s Adam comin’ home, Pa?” Joe whined.
“You keep sayin’ he’s comin’, but he ain’t here.”
“Remember Joe, Adam will be gone for four years;
you’ll be a big boy of ten when he comes home,” Ben replied
patiently.
“Ten!” Joe repeated. Why that was
almost as old as Hoss!
“It takes four years to earn a degree and he’s
only been gone one.”
“Gosh, he won’t even recognize us, Joe, cause
we’ll have grown so much,” Hoss interjected.
“That’s why we’ll send him a daguerreotype
of the two of you each year. We’ll go to Sacramento right
after the cattle drive and have one taken so you can send it to
Adam as a birthday present.”
About a week later Ben returned from a trip
to Mormon Station for supplies with a letter from Adam postmarked
Shelburne Falls, Massachusetts. After a hurried supper
they gathered around to listen as Ben read aloud.
— 1855
Dear Family,
I’ve been here on the Wharton farm for about
a fortnight so I knew I needed to write you. Life on
a farm is really quite similar to life on a ranch. Every
morning Mr. Wharton, Aaron, David and I get up before dawn and milk
the cows. (Mrs. Wharton sells butter so they have a good-sized
herd of dairy cows that have to be milked every morning and every
evening without fail.) The barn cats all gather around waiting for their
bowl of milk. (Sometimes David squirts the milk right
in their mouths; he only does it when he knows his father isn’t around.
It’s pretty funny to see the look on the cat’s face! Hoss should
try it with Susan sometime.) While we are milking, Aaron’s little
sister, Docia, is feeding the chickens and gathering the eggs.
Once the cows have been milked, we water the stock, give them their
grain and turn them out to pasture. Then we muck out the stalls.
Sound familiar? Then it’s time for breakfast.
Mrs. Wharton (with some help from Docia) prepares
a big breakfast. She’s just about as good a cook as Hop
Sing. After breakfast Aaron and I are free to amuse
ourselves. (Mr. Wharton just asks us to help with the barn
chores right now. Later when it’s haying time, Aaron and I will
help with that.) The Whartons own some horses—Saddlebreds—so
Aaron and I go riding every day. We both really missed it while
we were at Harvard. These Saddlebreds sure have a smooth gait,
but none of them can hold a candle to Beauty. A couple of
times Aaron and I have gone berrying with Docia. There’s a
big berry patch by the farm. Poor Docia ran into a black bear
one time, but she said the bear was as surprised as she was and
ran off into the woods. Apparently the black bears they have
around here are not as ferocious as our grizzlies are.
Docia is really a cute little girl, but I’ve
discovered that little sisters can be just as pesky as little
brothers. Wherever Aaron and I go, Docia tries to follow.
Mrs. Wharton keeps her pretty busy churning butter and helping
with the cleaning, laundry and cooking, but somehow she manages
to slip away and come after us. (Does she remind you of anyone,
Hoss?)
Hoss laughed out loud
at that and Ben smiled but Joe frowned. “Does he mean me?”
“He shore does, punkin. You and that
Docia sound a lot alike to me.”
“I ain’t like no girl! You take that
back, Hoss!” Joe shouted, jumping to his feet.
“Sit down, Joseph,” Ben said calmly.
“All Hoss and Adam mean is that you and Docia both like to tag
along after your older brothers. No one is saying you are
like a girl.”
Somewhat mollified Joe sat back down but he
still glared at Hoss.
Besides riding and berrying,
we go fishing and swimming. We’ve ridden into Shelburne
Falls and explored the town. Aaron showed me some potholes
caused by glaciers at the end of one of the streets. There
is one pothole that is thirty-nine feet across. Pretty amazing.
Aaron and I have also gone canoeing on the Deerfield River.
(Shelburne Falls is built on the banks of the river.)
I guess you can tell I am having a wonderful time and the Whartons are
treating me just like one of the family.
Affectionately yours,
Adam
Joe spoke up then.
“I think Adam’s havin’ so much fun he don’t even miss us.
Well, I don’t miss him neither!” He jumped up and ran into
the bedroom he shared with Hoss, slamming the heavy door behind him.
Hoss stood up and started to go after him,
but Ben reached out and caught him by the arm. “Give
him time to simmer down, Hoss.”
Hoss slowly sat back down and then said softly,
“It don’t sound like Adam’s missin’ us much.”
“Hoss,” Ben said gently, reaching over to squeeze
his middle son’s hand, “just because your brother writes us
that he is having a good time staying with Aaron’s family doesn’t
mean he doesn’t miss us. Quite the contrary. I think
staying with Aaron’s family probably makes him miss us more, but you
know he won’t admit it.”
Hoss’s countenance brightened a little at those
words. “Yer right, Pa. Adam’s hardheaded and he wouldn’t
want to admit to bein’ homesick after he worked so hard to talk
ya into lettin’ him go to college. ‘Sides, I guess I want
him to have a good time doin’ what he’s always dreamed of doin’.”
He said with a half smile, “Now, Little Joe would like Adam to be miserable
so he’d come back home.”
“I only hope as Joseph grows older, he’ll understand
why his brother wanted to be away from his family for four
years.”
“I hope so, too,” Hoss said. Then his
face puckered with worry. “Trouble is that Joe can be just
as hardheaded as Adam.”
“A lot can change in three years,” Ben replied.
He only hoped that his oldest and youngest sons would be able
to rebuild their relationship. Adam had been in San Francisco
almost a year before going to Harvard, although at least the family
had been able to visit him there several times. Now, Adam would
have been absent half of Joe’s life by the time he returned in three
years. Ben knew it would take a great deal of work on Adam’s part
to build the kind of close relationship with Joe that he had with Hoss.
Then with a rueful smile, Ben reminded himself of the scripture: “Sufficient
unto the day is the evil thereof.”
“Here we are, boys,” Mr. Wharton said as they
drove up to the gate to the Yard. “Need any help?” he asked
as Adam and Aaron jumped out, each grabbing a valise in each hand.
(They had stopped by Captain Stoddard’s earlier to pick up the remainder
of Adam’s things.)
“No, we can manage, Pa,” Aaron assured him.
“All right, then,” Mr. Wharton replied.
“I’ll jest stop by the Captain’s and let him know you got here
safely, Adam. Now that I got you boys here, maybe he and
I can have a cup o’ tea and a chat. Now, you study hard and
make us all proud of ya.”
Aaron and Adam exchanged a look before replying,
“We will, Pa,” and “Don’t worry, Mr. Wharton, we’ll keep our
noses to the grindstone.”
They hurried across the Yard to their new dormitory,
Stoughton Hall, to get their room assignment and drop off their
valises.
“You know Aaron,” Adam said a little later
as they strolled around greeting old friends and reacquainting
themselves with the Yard, “when I arrived here a year ago, I had
so many plans and aspirations. Ever since I can remember
I’d dreamed of coming back east and attending college. I
wanted to read all the great literature, learn all the new scientific
theories. I wanted to be a sponge and soak up knowledge.
I wanted to discover veritas, or truth, and I thought I’d gain
it from books.”
“And haven’t you?”
“Yes, but I’ve also gained it by being your
friend and Thomas’s, by spending time with my grandfather, by
meeting people like Winchester and his cronies—even by falling
in love with Julia. Maybe the most important truth I learned
over the past year is that not all learning is gained from books.
My father and yours are very wise men, and they didn’t gain their
wisdom from books but from experience. It’s not the knowledge
that we cram in our heads that really matters; it’s the entire experience
of being at college and being exposed to so many different people and
so many different ideas. That is veritas .”
Just then a fresh-faced young man with rosy
cheeks approached them. “Excuse me, but could you tell
me which is Massachusetts Hall?” he asked nervously.
Adam pointed to it and turned to Aaron with
a grin. “And now I’ve come full circle. Come on.
We need to unpack and find Thomas.” They walked toward their
new dormitory, hands jammed in their pockets and whistling a
jaunty tune.
References:
For general information about the United States
in the 1850s (including the little rhyme about Bostonians) I
used the following:
The American Pageant: A History of the Republic by Thomas A.
Bailey
I had two main sources for Harvard during the
1850s:
Glimpses of the Harvard Past by Bernard Bailyn
and Harvard’s Web site:
http://www.harvard.edu/
(That’s where I learned about the Lawrence Scientific School,
which was in existence when Adam would have attended Harvard.
If he’d gone to Yale, he could have taken a course in civil engineering,
but New Haven, Connecticut, is too far from Boston for Adam to visit
his grandfather often while Boston and Cambridge are only separated
by the Charles River.)
Note: For any readers who are experts on Harvard, I acknowledge
that during the time frame I have Adam attending the college,
the Commons was abolished but it worked better for my story
to ignore that fact.
It’s been decades since I read The Canterbury
Tales so credit for Adam’s analysis of The Miller’s
Tale goes to Michael Murphy at
http://academic.brooklyn.cuny.edu/webcore/murphy/
Adam quotes from Thomas Gray’s Elegy Written
in a Country Churchyard, Lord Byron’s She Walks in Beauty
and Thomas Campion’s There Is a Garden. Julia
quotes from the Song of Solomon.
For information on Christmas customs in the
U.S. in the 19th Century as well as Swedish and French customs
I used the following Web sites:
http://www.santas.net/aroundtheworld.htm
http://www.howstuffworks.com/christmas.htm
http://www.a-traditional-christmas.com/
I used the following Web pages for information
on how baseball was played in the 1850s:
http://baseball-almanac.com/ruletown.shtml
http://inventors.about.com/gi/dynamic/offsite.htm?site=http://web.mit.edu/invent/www/inventorsA%2DH/cartwright.html
I was surprised to discover it was not Abner
Doubleday but Alexander Joy Cartwright that established the
modern baseball field. (Think he was a relative?
Sorry, couldn’t resist.) According to The Harvard Book
of 1875, there was no organized baseball until 1862 when the
New York version of the game was introduced by a freshman.
I decided that unknown to the authors of the Harvard Book
another freshman had already introduced the Massachusetts version
of the game, which is what Adam and his friends play, a decade
earlier.
I got a little information about football in
the U.S. in the 1850s at the following Web page:
http://inventors.about.com/gi/dynamic/offsite.htm?site=http://wwwwbs.cs.tu%2Dberlin.de/user/tiny/fhistory.html
(The Harvard Web site mentioned the annual game between
the freshmen and sophomores, which was finally banned in 1860.
The game Adam played was a cross between rugby and soccer and not
to be confused with the football games currently played at Harvard.)
I obtained information about clipper ships
and sailing around the Horn from
http://www.eraoftheclipperships.com/eraweb.html
There are many versions of Barbara Allen
. The verse Adam sings while drunk is found at the
following Web page:
http://www.contemplator.com/folk2/brballen.html
Four novels I read and adored as a child and
adolescent also provided useful information about life in 19th
Century America: Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women
and Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Farmer Boy, Little House
in the Big Woods and Little Town on the Prairie.
(I must confess the Ingalls’ cat, Kitty, was my inspiration for Susan
the cat and Docia was the name of one of Laura’s relatives.
Farmer Boy was a wealth of information on farm life during
the time period. I got the game Truth from Little Women
.)
Note: I realize in at least one episode it is stated that
Joe was born in the ranch house but in The Philip Deidesheimer
story it is stated that Adam designed the ranch house.
In the face of contradiction I choose to believe Adam designed the
house when he returned from college and Joe was born in the Cartwrights’
original home on the Ponderosa. Observant people undoubtedly
noted that I moved Adam’s birthday forward a few years to 1836.
I did this because there were no wagon trains heading west until the
1840s, first to Oregon and later California and I wanted Adam to be no
more than six years old when he and his family traveled west
The End
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