Editor’s Note: This is an ongoing series which runs each Thursday morning titled the Richland Chronicles Volume VI, by author Paul Lintern. It is set in the 1860s and tells the story of Richland County through the eyes of young people. This is the sixth in a series. The books are available from Lintern for $25 a set, tax and shipping included. Each book is about 120 pages written for intermediate readers (4th grade) with local illustrations. Volume I is Amelia Changes Her Tune. Volume II is Isaac and Wolf Paw Find Their Home. Volume III is Autumn Keeps Her Secret. Volume IV is Mr. Gamble Starts a School. Volume V is Jacob Blows his Horn.
August 10, 1863
Dear Cassandra; Thank you for your letter to me last week. I am glad you thought to send it to Hanoverton, as I had arrived back from my grandparents’ farm just a couple of days before.
As long as I live, I know I will never forget this summer and being in Gettysburg for what many are saying is the most important battle of the war so far.
Grandpa says he thinks that broke the back of the Rebels and that it is only a matter of time before we wear them down. Gettysburg is not back to normal.
They had to bury all those horses, but couldn’t before the hot sun made them smell just awful. I can’t get that smell out of my nose.
The hospitals are mostly gone, but everywhere one walks there is evidence of the carnage. Trees are blown apart by cannon shells, houses are riddled with musket balls, old campfire ashes are everywhere, fences are torn down, buildings are damaged, and the biggest thing in Gettysburg now is the military cemetery.
They say President Lincoln himself will come and dedicate it this fall. I so hope that the family of that Captain you knew is doing well.
I was quite surprised to see you that night, and so sorry that you were so hurt. I wish things had been different so I could have shown you around the farm and the town. It really is, or was, beautiful. I trust it will be again one day.
I know Hanoverton is a long way from Mansfield, even though we are in the same state, but the train makes the journey shorter, and I am hoping you and your family will come for a visit. My parents are eager to host you.
I hope your school year starts well; we both will soon be back at our studies. In the meantime, I remain Your traveling friend,
Martin Burns
P.S.: How special the rewards that one can yield When one visits in ol’ Mansfield.
“Maybe we can make a trip to Hanoverton, now that you know somebody there,” Mama said. “Papa and I could take you, or maybe Nate would chaperone you.”
Chaperone? First time Mama has used that word.
“Or do you think Jacob would like to go along, with us or with Nate?”
“I can’t imagine Papa getting the time to go, and you might feel a little awkward going by yourself. Maybe Nate could take Jake and me,” Cassie said.
“Sounds like a plan,” Mama said.
“Why don’t you write that boy…”
“Martin.”
“Yes, Martin, and suggest a few dates, perhaps a Tuesday or Thursday would fit in before the school year begins. You could stop in Canton on the way back and buy something for school.”
Mama is being very agreeable. I wonder why?
“Uh, why are you agreeing to this, Mama?”
“You’ve made me realize that you are growing up, young lady. I want to give you some chances to prove your trustworthiness.”
Well, maybe I do believe in miracles!
After writing her letter to Martin, Cassie said she wanted to post it, and go for a little walk.
“Back for supper, in time to help?” Mama asked.
“Certainly.”
And out Cassie went. She headed east on Third Street a few blocks, pausing to greet Timothy Costin and his mother at the store, then walked up Main Street to post her letter at Mr. Sturges’ notions store. She bought a few sticks of licorice there as well, and nibbled them as she strolled through the square, stopping to read the handbills posted on the pillars of the County Courthouse.
It was a warm but pleasant August afternoon, and Cassie decided it was time for a walk out of town, up Diamond Street to its end, then up the long lane to the cemetery.
She was not being melancholy, but thoughtful as she felt the gentle breeze under the shady maple trees. As she walked under the main entranceway, she turned right and strolled a few steps to the mound of dirt topped with a wooden cross on which was the handwritten name “Costin.”
She had pulled a few flowers from a bush that she hoped was wild and gently lay them on the dirt. She did not come to have a conversation with John, just to listen in silence to the birds, the breeze and perhaps his voice, his laugh, his kindness to a little girl that he made feel special.
I wonder if he knew what he was doing, with his kindness.
She resolved to share that kindness in whatever ways she could, to be helpful to his family, to grow up, but not too quickly to make it easier for Grandpappy to adjust. And to honor the sacrifice that John and Dan and Tad and Nate and so many others had made, by, by, well, she wasn’t sure how, but she promised herself she would figure it out.
I promised myself I wouldn’t talk to you, John, because I think that’s a little strange, but I do want you to know I will always love you, and remember you. And I know I’m just a girl, and probably don’t know if I am having woman thoughts, but I hope I can find a husband as good as you, whenever that is supposed to happen.
And, I know this is odd, too, but I wouldn’t trade my day in Gettysburg for anything. I got to see important things, and even though I failed most of what I tried to do, I will always remember it, and try to learn what is important.
Whatever that is, I will take my lifetime to figure it out. And I promise I will take care of your place here, as long as I can, although I suppose it really does not matter to you. Well, Mama is going to be looking for me; I had better start back.
Thank you John. And if you run into Dan and Tad up there, please greet them for me, too. At the right time, I guess we’ll meet again.
