Editor’s Note: This is an ongoing series which runs each Thursday morning titled the Richland Chronicles, by author Paul Lintern. It is set in the 1860s and tells the story of Richland County through the eyes of young people. 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. Volume VI is Cassie Fights the War.
It was a lively time at the Zimmerman home. Phillip and Levi’s arrival made for a lot more commotion, and the need to help them settle back into the community. And the family home.
“We will figure out a place to live, Mama,” Phillip was saying the next morning as they ambled in from the carriage house, where he and Levi slept that first night.
Nate was using Grandpappy’s front room on the first floor. Cassie and Emilene shared one upstairs bedroom, and Mama and Papa had the second. Jacob was sleeping in a window well on the hallway at the top of the stairs.
“We can set up a tent outside; it’s what we’ve had since ’61,” Levi said.
“Tell me you are joking,” Phillip said.
“He is,” Papa said, smiling. “You left ready to fly the coop anyway, so now that you are back, shoo.”
He waved his hands at them like he was shooing chickens.
“And take all the time you need to find some place to live or something to do, as long as you are out by this afternoon.”
“He’s teasing you, of course,” Mama replied. “Take till tomorrow if necessary.”
“Mr. Robinson’s house is vacant at the bottom of Mulberry. Do you suppose it’s available?” Phillip joked.
“Sure, if you are going to buy the railroad while you are at it, like he did,” Levi said.
“Do you have to go?” Cassie asked.
“Your bed is too small for me,” Levi said.
“Besides, where would you sleep?”
“Why not stay in the carriage house?” Emilene asked.
“For now, it will work, although the aroma is a bit flavorful, and that goat of yours, Emilene. Can you teach it to coo, or hum, or tweet instead of what it does?”
Two more who don’t like goats.
“The implement factory needs help, so that’s a start,” Phillip said. “And we thought we would look for something all three of us could do together, a business that fits a need. That’s what we have to do, find something people want and make it — make it good, fast, and cheap.”
“Nothing to it,” Papa said.
“A lot of things will be changing now that the war is over and all the raw materials that were needed for the army can be used for other purposes,” Levi said.
“Let’s find something to make out of hard tack,” Phillip said.
Levi grimaced.
“If I never see another piece of hardtack it will be too soon. That brick was only good if you were starving, which was way too often.”
The rest of the day was spent catching up on news, with everyone telling stories that they mostly had forgotten about, until they realized the others did not know it, yet.
The brothers talked of camp conditions, drilling, being on the move, building defenses, just about everything except going into battle.
Mama and Papa caught them up on news from church and relatives and family friends. Jacob bragged about his rounders playing, and the banjo, and the girls talked about school events, the Costins’ store, things downtown, and friends.
“You know that we ran into Mr. Brinkerhoff, Col. Brinkerhoff, in Washington in May,” Levi said.
“Roeliff? How in the world did that happen?” Papa asked.
“We were en route from Richmond to Baltimore, then on to Harrisburg, but we stopped in the capital for a few hours, long enough to see the capitol building and the Washington Monument.”
“Will they ever finish those projects?” he asked.
“Well, the Capitol dome is about complete, and the Washington memorial still looks pretty impressive, even though it is only half built. Still it’s over 200 feet tall,” Levi said.
Phillip piped in. “Anyway, Col. Brinkerhoff was telling us about the night Lincoln was shot. You know that he was at Ford’s Theater that night and witnessed the assassination.”
“Well, I had heard that, but didn’t know any details,” Papa said.
“You never told me that,” Mama said.
“I must have,” Papa replied.
“I think I would have remembered it.” Philip continued. “Anyway, he said a couple of friends were in town and heard that the President and General Grant were going to be at the Ford’s Theater that evening, and they said they wanted to go. Brinkerhoff wasn’t too keen on the idea, but they insisted.
“He got there early to get good seats and placed themselves downstairs, opposite the President’s box, so they would have a good view.
“He said the play began and went almost an hour before the President arrived. Everything stopped and there was a big ovation for him, and then the play continued. Col. Brinkerhoff said he had seen President Lincoln several times around Washington, but never had he seen him so cheerful, and so relaxed, laughing at the play as he did.”
“It was a funny play?” Jacob said.
“I’d hope so,” Phillip replied.
Levi interrupted. “So during the second act, a messenger came to the president’s door. Brinkherhoff saw it. And then they got back to the play when suddenly there was a shot fired, and a man leaped over the railing of the President’s box about 12 feet onto the stage. The man shouted a Latin phrase…”
“Death to Tyranny,” Papa said.
“That’s it, but get this. Brinkerhoff says there was no woman screaming, no real commotion, like the papers said. In fact, it was very quiet for most of a minute before people figured out what had happened. He said the President was just slumped over, like he was resting his head.
“When they carried him out, he got a good look and the President’s face had a death glow on it. He could tell the President would die.”
“How remarkable that Roeliff was there that evening,” Mama said.
“And get this, he said the man that led the troops to capture and kill John Wilkes Booth was a native of Richland County. A Col. Conger. His father was the founding pastor of the Congregational Church here.
“Well, I’ll be,” Papa said. “Enoch was his father. Good preacher.
“Well, that settles it, boys. As long as you can keep telling stories like these, you are welcome to stay here.
“But as soon as you stop…”
