Pittsburgh’s Oldest Tavern

Posted by on Aug 17th, 2019 in Blog | 5 comments

Early History of Temperanceville

In our search for lost Pittsburgh neighborhoods, Al and I recently visited old Temperanceville. The community was founded on temperance but is also the home of Pittsburgh’s oldest tavern building.

19th-century map of Temperancville (present-day West End)

The American Indians seldom traveled to the area that would later become Temperanceville and then Pittsburgh’s West End.  They preferred the mouth of Chartiers Creek in modern-day McKees Rocks.  Like all of western Pennsylvania, the site of Temperanceville was disputed territory in the 1750s, claimed by both the British and the French.  Traders from both countries tramped the wooded hills and rafted up and down the rivers and creeks, trading with the Indians.  One of the earliest traders was Peter Chartier a Frenchman who lent his name to Chartiers Creek and the former Chartiers Township from which Crafton, Sheraden, Temperanceville and other western communities were formed.

The history of Temperanceville predates our nation.  Before the American Revolution, the mouth of Saw Mill Run was the home of the saw mill that almost certainly supplied the lumber for Fort Pitt.  In our nation’s earliest history, the area also boasted a boat yard, stables and an inn. These would have been conveniences for travelers heading south on Washington Pike or west on Steubenville Pike.  The inn, The Old Stone Tavern, still stands and is one of the oldest buildings in the City of Pittsburgh.

History of the Old Stone Tavern

Most historians don’t think so!

Architectural historians dispute the age of the Old Stone Tavern.  The cornerstone gives a date of 1752, but that is probably inaccurate.  1756 is another proposed date, but that is also suspect.  Few Europeans settled the area before the 1760’s and the French & Indian war raged in the 1750’s.  It seems unlikely that anyone would have made the investment to put up a stone building in the middle of a war zone. In pre-Revolutionary Western Pennsylvania, most all buildings in Western Pennsylvania were log or frame. Stone would have been an expensive luxury. 

Dates as late as 1819 were proposed until a ledger from the tavern was found, with entries starting in 1793.  Current consensus is that the Old Stone Tavern was built sometime between 1782 and 1793. An addition on the back dates to the Civil War era.  Perhaps the cornerstone refers to a humbler tavern building that first stood on the site. 

The Old Stone Tavern today

The tavern has a colorful history.  The ledger helped to establish as fact the legend that the it was a meeting site for members of the Whiskey Rebellion.  The ledger lists the names of 89 Whiskey Rebellion participants, as well as 109 known veterans of the American Revolution, and 16 known veterans of the War of 1812.  President Grant visited the tavern in 1869. 

Less proven are rumors that George Washington, Arthur Saint Clair and Charles Dickens slept at the tavern, along with a legendary duel fought there in the early 19th century.  Also unproven are the inevitable ghost stories. Ghost stories center around the use of a small room in the tavern as a holding cell for prisoners being transported along the Washington Pike. 

The tavern operated continuously from circa 1782 until 2008.  It was a toll plaza for the Washington Pike, a stage coach stop, a social center, reputedly a brothel for a time, and a Prohibition-era speakeasy.  Dog fights, political rallies and boxing matches were held there.  It just missed destruction in a refinery fire in 1873. The 1874 Saw Mill Run flood swept away a grocery store only a block away but merely licked the tavern. 

As a young girl growing up in Banksville and riding the old 36C West End Greentree bus out of downtown, I passed The Old Stone Tavern many times and never noticed it. Reading a book or daydreaming about boys.  I had no idea that a piece of lively Pittsburgh history passed right outside the bus window .

The Future of the Old Stone Tavern

The tavern was designated a historical landmark in 2009, and the Pittsburgh’s Old Stone Tavern Friends Trust is raising funds for an ambitious project to restore the old building into a restaurant and tavern.  Plans for the tavern and surrounding area also include a museum, distillery and tasting room, and community green space.  Find out more HERE.

Coming Next on the Blog

COMING SOON:  More Temperanceville history, our trip to Temperanceville, and tracing the path of Saw Mill Run.   


A special shout-out to Emily Ahlin and Maria Joseph of the West End branch of Carnegie Library. The history closet at the West End branch was a wealth of information. Thanks!

Lawrence, Peter, A Geographical History of West End and Elliott and the Neighboring Southwest Pittsburgh Area: City of Pittsburgh Planning Department, 1973.

Fording, Arthur M., Recollections and Reminiscences of West End – Pittsburgh, PA: Self published circa 1950.

Informational flyer from Pittsburgh’s Old Stone Tavern Friends Trust

Wilkinsburg’s One-Room Schoolhouse

Posted by on Jul 27th, 2019 in Blog | 0 comments

Jane’s schoolroom probably looked a lot like this, since it was in a room of her mother’s house.

Jane Grey Swisshelm held several jobs in her lifetime.  Her father died when she was only 11 years old and her family was plunged into poverty.  Jane had to produce paintings on velvet for sale as her contribution to the family’s income.  She was at various times a writer, a newspaper publisher, a corset-maker, a quartermaster’s clerk, a street commissioner and a nurse.  She was also a teacher in a one-room schoolhouse.

Wilkinsburg didn’t open its first public school until 1840.  Before that time, there were private schools in the area of varying size and quality, including Edgeworth School, the ladies’ academy that Jane attended for a couple of years in her early teens.  Following her education at Edgeworth, Jane opened a school of her own in her mother’s home in Wilkinsburg in 1830 – at the age of 15!

Jane bragged of being the first schoolmistress in Western Pennsylvania to teach without flogging.  She taught seven hours a day Monday through Friday, plus Bible school on Saturday morning, for $2.50 per term per pupil.  That would be about $67 in today’s dollars.  Quite a bargain!

Jane probably taught students of all ages.  Younger students would have sat in front, older in back.  I’ve found no record of what she taught, but it most likely followed the general educational rubric of the one-room schoolhouse of the era.

A Typical Day in a 19th-century Schoolhouse

The students’ day usually started with the Lord’s Prayer.  The first lesson of the day was in reading.  Memorization was important in those time when books were in short supply and computers non-existent.  Part of the reading lesson would include each child reciting a speech or poem from memory.  After a privy break and perhaps a short recess, arithmetic and penmanship would be taught.  Students practiced penmanship by writing their name, the date and a maxim or two in a copybook.  The class might then discuss the moral meaning of the maxim. 

Lunch and recess followed penmanship. After recess, children helped carry more firewood and water into the schoolhouse. 

The teacher instructed her students in grammar and spelling in the early afternoon, followed by history.  After another privy break, the class read and discussed a moralistic story.  This was meant to both build character and develop elocution skills.  The last class of the day was geography.

Behavioral Expectations

At dismissal time, children assigned for that day helped to tidy up the classroom.  Chores for the next day were assigned at this time as well.  Students who had misbehaved might have to stay late to sweep the floors and wash the tin drinking cup.  Oher common punishments included whipping with a rod or ruler on the palms or buttocks, or spanking with a hickory stick.   Since Jane was opposed to these physical punishments, she more likely stood her naughty students in a corner, or sat them on a stool wearing a dunce cap.  She may also have had them memorize or copy long passages with moral messages, or write sentences over and over, while the other children were outdoors enjoying recess.

19th century parents and teachers placed a high value on good manners in children.  “Making your manners” meant curtsying for a girl and bowing or nodding for a boy.  An apple or some picked wildflowers was a kind way to make one’s manners to the teacher.

Jane as a Teacher

As I do my research, I find Jane to be a study in contrasts.  She was certainly self-righteous; hence, the title of my book. She could be stubborn, demanding and unreasonable. But she was passionate about doing good, and she was very dainty and feminine in appearance when she was young. What would she have been like as a teacher?  She describes herself as being so successful at non-corporeal discipline that “boys, ungovernable at home, were altogether tractable.”  Were they charmed by her femininity?  Or intimidated by her steely righteousness?  I’d say it’s a toss-up.  She is a complex character.  I’m figuring her out as I write.


Half a Century – Jane Grey Swisshelm, 1880

Nine Mile Run

Posted by on Jun 29th, 2019 in Blog | 1 comment

Nine Mile Run where it meets the Monongahela

My research for my previous book, The Saint’s Mistress, took me as far as Italy.  We’re staying closer to home as I research Righteous, but we’re still making interesting discoveries.  Last week, looking for the spot where my two main characters met, we hiked the very pleasant Nine Mile Run Trail.

The summer day was perfect for our quest. We knew that James and Jane met along Nine Mile Run, in the fateful scene described in this excerpt from my novel-in-progress.  And we knew that it must have been along the portion of the Run nearest the Swisshelm farmstead.  We decided to walk the whole of the Nine Mile Run trail in Frick Park, and see if we could guess where Jane’s carriage may have overturned in the swollen run one early-spring day.

Nine Mile Run Trail

The trail is beautiful, for bikers, hikers or just plain loafers.  Benches sit invitingly at several points along the path, where a hiker may rest for a few minutes or a loafer can sit and read a book, daydream or watch the bees and butterflies.  On the day we walked the trail, we saw black-eyed Susans, coneflowers, crown vetch, daisies, and thistles, along with several other wildflowers that we couldn’t identify.  It’s an easy hiking trail, 3.6 miles in and out, mostly flat with a few short rises and a mix of sun and shade.  Although it passes directly under the Parkway East at one point, the main sound is birdsong. 

Nine Mile Run Trail, Frick Park
Flowers along the trail

The land along the Run served as a slag dump from the 1920s until the 1970s.  Over the course of that time, Pittsburgh’s many mills deposited about 200 million tons of slag.  Between 2003 and 2007, the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers invested $7.7 million into restoring 2.2 miles of the stream. It was one of the largest urban-stream restorations undertaken in the United States. They uncovered the stream channel in many places where it was blocked or culverted. Wetlands and animal habitat have been restored.  The work continues, as you can see in the picture below.

Work on the Run continues

The stream is clean enough that we saw several people fishing for bass near where it empties into the Monongahela River.

This guy says he has caught some big bass at this spot

The trail connects the main body of Frick Park with the Monongahela River.  Al and I identified what I think a likely spot for Jane’s carriage to have overturned, leading to her rescue by her future husband.  It’s near the Swisshelm farmstead, in a fairly deep section of the Run, right above a rocky waterfall. 

But it looks like such a NICE stream, not dangerous at all!

History of the Site

James Swisshelm’s father, John, a Revolutionary War veteran, endured the bitter winter at Valley Forge in 1778.  John’s first wife died after bearing him 3 sons. He then married his second wife, Mary Elizabeth Miller, at some point before 1808. She was no more than 25 years old.  He would have been nearly 50.  In 1808, John bought 162 acres in the area called Nine Mile from William and Mary Pollack for one thousand pounds. 

John and Mary Elizabeth had at least six children: Eva born 1808, James born 1810, Samuel born 1815, Margaret born 1817, William born 1821 and Henry born 1827.   Some sources mention two additional children, who may not have survived infancy. I’ve made the decision to write a few of these siblings out of my novel.  Five brothers and sisters is a lot for a reader to keep track of! 

John Swisshelm disinherited his three sons by his first marriage and both of his daughters.  His will left his estate to his wife, Mary Elizabeth, an unusual step in an era when women’s property rights were very limited.  After her death, the estate was to be divided equally among their four sons.  As I show in my novel, this controversial will led to a lot of bitterness in the Swisshelm family, especially between James and Jane.  The family story ran that in his old age John “became blind and when the time came to make his will desired that all of the children should share and share alike in the estate,” but that Mary Elizabeth “had two wills prepared, one the way John desired and the second the way she desired.  She had the first read to him and had him sign the second.”

Lawsuits over the property continued well into the 1860s.  But, today, that battleground is a lovely and peaceful place to spent a summer afternoon.


Jane Grey Swisshelm, An Unconventional Life; Sylvia D. Hoffert; University of North Carolina Press; 2004

Jane Grey Swisshelm

Posted by on Jun 15th, 2019 in Blog | 4 comments

Here is a picture of the Swisshelm homestead. Could that be Jane on the porch?

When writing a historical novel based on a real person, it’s always a good idea to walk where your subject trod.  I had to go all the way to Italy when I was writing The Saint’s Mistress (I know, rough duty).  But Jane Grey Swisshelm, the subject of my next novel, is local.  Not to mention 1400 years more recent! So, it’s been a lot easier to visit sites associated with Jane.

Al and I set out to do that on a beautiful June day last week. 

Young Jane Cannon

Thomas and Mary Cannon named their first daughter Jane Grey after the Protestant “9-day queen” of 16th-century England.  Jane was born on December 6, 1815, in a house on Pittsburgh’s Water Street (present-day Fort Pitt Boulevard).  Jane’s brothers and father were susceptible to tuberculosis and so in 1816 the family moved from Pittsburgh to Wilkinsburg for better air.  In Wilkinsburg, Thomas opened a little general store and his health improved. 

Here is the approximate site of Jane’s birth: Water Street (currently Fort Pitt Blvd) between Wood and Market Streets. Excuse my thumb; my kids make fun of me all the time for that. But how about the beautiful view they would have had of Mt. Washington?

The Cannon family were Covenanter Presbyterians, strict Calvinists who had broken in 1643 with the Presbyterian Church of Scotland, which they believed did not resist the Anglicans fiercely enough.  In Pittsburgh, the Cannons had attended a Covenanter church, but there was no Covenanter church in Wilkinsburg.  So, in Wilkinsburg they attended Beulah Presbyterian Church, pastored by Reverend John Graham, whose house still stands today on William Penn Highway in Wilkinsburg. 

Graham house. The people who live here now were real nice about letting me take pictures.

The family’s first sojourn in Wilkinsburg was cut short by the financial crash of 1819.  Thomas Cannon’s income from renting his property in Pittsburgh plummeted, and his title to his land in Wilkinsburg was questionable because the seller had mortgaged his original land grant.  The Cannons moved back to Pittsburgh, to a little house on Sixth Street, which they shared with Mary Cannon’s parents, Hance and Jane Scott.

The Cannons’ home on Sixth Street stood on the current site of the Heinz 57 Center.
Here’s the historical marker on the Heinz 57 building. This marker is what first go me interested in writing about Jane.

One of Jane’s sisters and three brothers had died of tuberculosis and, in 1827, her father followed them.  The family – Mary, Jane age 11, William age 14 and Elizabeth age 5 – was left nearly destitute. Before he died, Thomas had lost his title to the Water Street property for non-payment of ground rent, and the title to the Wilkinsburg property was still in dispute.  To earn a bit of money, Mary Cannon made bonnets, Jane produced paintings on velvet, and William attempted to carry on his father’s chair-making business.

Finally, the title to the property in Wilkinsburg was settled, and Mary moved with her children back to Wilkinsburg and re-opened the store.

Today there’s a First National Bank on the site of Wilkinsburg’s first post office, the Stoner Dry Goods store, dating to 1840. I speculate whether Jane’s family’s store may have preceded the Stoner store on the site.

Jane and James

Not long after the move back to Wilkinsburg, Jane met her future husband, James Swisshelm, in a scene from my novel-in-progress, Righteous which I posted to this blog last month. Here’s a LINK in case you missed it.

From that fateful meeting, the rest of Jane’s story flows.  She and James met again at a “frolic” at Dumpling Hall, the home of prominent Wilkinsburg citizen John Kelly. 

Dumpling Hall in its heyday
Current view of site of Dumpling Hall in Wilkinsburg

Jane’s marriage to James was marred by disagreements, centering on both religion and property.  Jane and James came into conflict over the property she inherited from her mother on Water Street in Pittsburgh, and over the Swisshelm farm in present-day Swissvale.

Approximate site of Jane’s Water Street (Fort Pitt Blvd) property, which was a cause of conflict between Jane and James. This property was destroyed in the fire of 1845.

Jane died in 1884 in the Swisshelm homestead, but not before living a very vivid and controversial life which you can read about in my upcoming novel, Righteous.

Here are some current photos of the site of the Swisshelm farm, on the border between Swissvale and Edgewood.

Historical marker right off the Parkway East ramp
Pretty little street right off the parkway ramp, on the former Swisshelm property
Not quite as bucolic as it used to be!
I couldn’t resist including a picture of this cute little fairy garden in the front yard of a house that stands on the former Swisshelm farm.
And here’s another shot of the Swisshelm homestead as it looked in the late 19th century.


Sylvia D. Hoffert, Jane Grey Swisshelm, An Unconventional Life (University of North Caroline Press, 2004)

Jane Grey Swisshelm, Half a Century (Jansen, McClung, 1880)

Wilkinsburg, A Detailed History:

Local Authors

Posted by on Jun 3rd, 2019 in Blog | 0 comments

Pittsburgh has been called one of the most literate cities in the United States, based on number of libraries and bookstores, newspaper readership, and residents’ educational levels.  We are also blessed with many local authors. 

I already knew several local writers because of my membership in writers’ groups and participation in panels at local libraries.  I met several more last Saturday at a local author event at Barnes & Noble in South Hills Village.  Why not check out the work of one or more of these talented writers? 

Local authors who are my friends

Audrey Abbott – Audrey is the author of a three-part historical romance series.  Volume One, The Lady’s Desire, came out last year.  Volume Two, The Lady’s Prayer, will be released this year.  I am not a romance reader, but I loved The Lady’s Desire.  I pre-read The Lady’s Prayer, as part of Audrey’s writer’s group and liked it even more.  Here’s a link to Audrey’s web site:

Gary Link – Gary has written three novels that take place in Pittsburgh in the 1840s.  In each of the novels, Constable John Parker must solve a mystery – and he has a knack for getting in trouble while he’s doing it.  The Burnt District is the first in the series.  The others are The Throughway and The Spectrum.  Volume four is in progress. 

Madhu Bazaz Wangu – Madhu’s first novel The Immigrant Wife is about a young Indian woman who is wants to make her own choices.  She moves to the United States with her husband, gets lost in parenting and grief, and, as a middle-aged woman must rediscover her determination to set her own destiny.  Her second novel is The Last Suttee, about a woman who sets out to prevent a tragedy in rural India.

Local authors I met at B&N on Saturday

Louis Astorino – Louis is former principal of the Astorino architecture firm (acquired by CannonDesign in 2014).  He has written a beautifully-illustrated book about his experience of being the only American architect to design a building at the Vatican, A Pencil in God’s Hand.

 Jason Cherry – I’ve lived in Pittsburgh all my life and thought I knew its history, but I didn’t know that there was supposed to have been a fort at the Point that would have preceded Fort Duquesne.  Read all about it in Jason’s well-researched book, Pittsburgh’s Lost Outpost: Captain Trent’s Fort, and check out his website

Rossilynne Culgan – Rossilynne is a Pittsburgh journalist who has written an updated version of 100 Things to Do in Pittsburgh Before You Die.  Another surprise for me as a lifelong Pittsburgher:  I have not yet done all 100!

Heather Ferri – Heather is a professional speaker on mental health issues.  Her book, Victim to Victory, is the story of her journey of recovery from childhood abuse.  Check out her website at

John Harvey – John is a retired psychologist.  He decided to sit silently in the same natural spot once each week for a whole year.  His book, The Stillness of the Living Forest, tells about his experience, which he described to me as life-changing.  Learn more at his website

Bill Steigerwald – A Pittsburgh journalist and author of Dogging Steinbeck, Bill’s new book is 30 Days a Black Man.  It tells the story of white Pittsburgh journalist Ray Sprigle, who went undercover in the south as a black man in 1948 and reported on his experience.

Kristy Jo Volchko – Kristy’s witty tween novel, Mall Hair Maladies, is about two girls in the 1980s who are determined to attend a Madonna concert at all costs.

Toni Weber – Last but not least, my table-mate at Saturday’s event, Toni, is the author of Dancing Into Destiny.  This novel tells the story of a widow who learns to live and love again after loss.  A sequel is currently in progress.   

Pipetown: another lost Pittsburgh neighborhood

Posted by on May 28th, 2019 in Blog | 2 comments

Next in my series on lost Pittsburgh neighborhoods:  Pipetown.

Pipetown early history

The area that was known as Pipetown in the 19th century was a valley that lay along 2nd Ave. between Boyd’s Hill (also known in those days as Ayer’s Hill, now known as The Bluff) and the Monongahela River. It was also bordered by a vanished stream called Sukes Run.  The Monongahela terminus of the Pennsylvania Canal (see my previous blog post) was where Sukes Run ran into the Monongahela River. 

Pipetown, also known as Kensington or Riceville, got its name from an early settler named William Price, who had a small shop there where he manufactured clay pipes.  He was described as “an eccentric little gentleman” known for his quirky humor and his mechanical genius. 

The neighborhood was a small, compact community that covered the area along Second Avenue from about the current site of the County Jail to Try Street.  It was a rough neighborhood of machine and tool factories, slaughterhouses, breweries and laborers’ cottages and tenements.  An 1826 directory listed, for example, two steam-rolling mills, a wire manufacturer, an air foundry, a steam grist mill and a “steam engine for turning and grinding brass and iron.”

Puddler working in a 19th-century rolling mill

For those especially interested in breweries, here’s a link to a good article about early Pittsburgh breweries.  Scroll down to the section on Kensington brewers.  Two breweries stood on the present-day location of the Allegheny County Jail.

Well, THIS site isn’t as much fun as it used to be!

1845 Fire

Pipetown was severely impacted by the fire in Pittsburgh in April 1845.  The fire started on Ferry Street in Pittsburgh and the high winds that day rapidly advanced it east right through Pipetown.  The fire was extinguished within the city limits by 7 p.m., but it continued to burn in Pipetown until 9 p.m. 

The factories and tenements were quickly rebuilt.  The residents of Pipetown may have been poor and rough, but they were tenacious and hard-working.  In my previous blog post, I noted that historic Bayardstown included many small businessmen.  Virtually all of the Pipetown residents in an 1869 directory were listed as puddlers, coke burners, teamsters and general laborers.  Pittsburgh in the 19th century was a rough, dirty town, but it was also a place of rapid change and great opportunity.  It is astonishing how far and how quickly some of the laborers rose from their circumstances. 

Samuel Young, born in Pipetown, wrote his autobiography in 1890. In it, he describes being hired as a puddler’s helper in the Pipetown rolling mill owned by Church, Carothers & Co.  The mill was destroyed in the 1845 fire, and he next got a job at another rolling mill in Franklin, Venango County.  He soon got a promotion to being in charge of the “stock department.”  He also started writing for the Conneautville Courier, and wrote a book as a serial for them.  Then he was one of the workers who pitched in and bought the mill.  From puddler’s helper to factory owner in the course of his adult life.  And he wasn’t the only one. 

William Tatnall

My favorite Pipetown Horatio Alger is William Tatnall Jr.  William Sr. arrived in Pipetown in 1800 at age 6.  He and his wife Ann were both born in London, England. William Jr., born May 4, 1825, went to work in one of the mills at age 9, when William Sr. died.  At age 23, he was working in Kensington Roller Mills as a puddler.  He was promoted to puddling supervisor and then to plant manager.  In 1847, he married Susanna Rowland, whose father owned a coal works in Birmingham (present-day South Side of Pittsburgh). 

Once he had some technical and management experience, and the necessary capital, Tatnall went into partnership with five other gentlemen (named Lindsay, Owen, Sample, Moody & Sellers).  They opened their own rolling mill, Excelsior Mill, in Woods Run.  The mill failed and Tatnall lost his capital.

Undeterred, Tatnall went back to work as a general manager of other mills in Western Pennsylvania: Schellenbergers Mills, Lochiel Iron Co., and Pittsburgh Forge & Iron. 

At some point, he bought a farm in Ross Township, and there he retired around 1904, aged 79.  He later left the farming to his sons and lived in a home in Bellevue.

Tatnall outlived his wife and 4 of his 6 children.  He was still living as late as 1914, and his biography in a 1914 directory of prominent Pittsburghers notes that his daughter Sarah was living with him at that time.  The biographer also notes that he had been a long-time Republican but later in life was a Progressive and was known for his “very liberal views.”

I found an 1897 map of Ross Township that showed a William Tatnall farm and a George Tatnall farm adjacent to each other roughly where Benton Avenue and Tatnall Avenue intersected.  George was one of William’s sons, and he died some time between 1904 and 1914.  City of Allegheny Fire Department records indicate that there was a fire on George’s farm in 1904, but the records don’t provide details on the amount of the loss or whether anyone was hurt.

Ross Township 1897. Tatnall farms outlined in pink.
As near as I can tell this is the approximate site of the Tatnall farm today, corner of Benton and Bascom Streets.
POSSIBLY Tatnall farm house. It’s on the former property and was built in 1900.

After that, the Tatnall trail goes cold.  I found an Edna Grace Tatnall at Chatham College in 1909, but couldn’t establish what relation, if any, she was to William. 

But I love Tatnall’s rags-to-(modest) riches story.  His story of starting at the bottom and making it into the upper-middle-class is quintessentially American.  He must have had some good luck, but he had his share of bad luck, too.  What caused Excelsior to fail, for example?  Did they start their business at the wrong time?  Or did Tatnall choose bad partners? Did a big customer fail to pay?  I could discover no details, but we do know that Tatnall dusted himself off and went back to work living his all-American story. 

Pipetown today

Here are some shots of Pipetown today. It is still the site of some heavy industry including at least one rolling mill, and a lot of technology companies. It was also, of course, the site of the J&L Steel Mill in the late 19th and early 20th centuries.

Look, we still have a rolling mill!
Carnegie-Mellon University, Hitachi, Fisher Scientific and other high-tech companies have campuses today in old Pipetown.
Former J&L site. I remember the flames from the J&L plant lighting up the night when we drove on the Parkway back in the 1960s.


Genealogical and personal history of western Pennsylvania. Vol. 1

Municipal reports of the City of Allegheny for the fiscal year ending. 1904/1905

Lost Pittsburgh Neighborhoods: Bayardstown

Posted by on May 11th, 2019 in Blog | 1 comment

But…where are the draymen and chandlers?

The Strip District Yesterday and Today

Pittsburghers who consider themselves “foodies” – along with some of us who hate the term “foodie” but just like to eat – love the Strip District.  But it wasn’t always part of the City of Pittsburgh, it wasn’t always called the Strip, and it wasn’t always a mecca for expensive chocolate, cheese from all corners of the world, and Steeler t-shirts.

The Strip District was part of what were once called the Liberties. They stretched roughly from 11th Street all the way through Lawrenceville.  “Liberties” were areas where veterans could receive free grants of land in thanks for their military service.  In the early 19th century, the area between 11th and 20th Streets was called the Northern Liberties.  Croghansville stood between 33rd and 43rd Streets. Lawrenceville in those days didn’t start until 43rd Street.  The present-day Strip District, roughly between 20th and 33rd streets, was then a separate town called Bayardstown.

Site of Pennsylvania Canal Pittsburgh terminus

The Pennsylvania Canal

In the 1830s and 1840s, the Pennsylvania Canal ended at 11th and Penn, right at the beginning of the Liberties, where Penn Station stands today.  The canal was actually a combination of canals and portage railroads, started in 1824, to connect Pittsburgh with Philadelphia.  It ran parallel to the Allegheny River from Freeport to Pittsburgh. At the present-day site of PNC Park, it crossed the Allegheny into Pittsburgh via an acqueduct/bridge and ended at the current site of Penn Station, in a neighborhood of warehouses and taverns.


In the 18th century, a Native American chief named Cornplanter often camped on the land that we know today as the Strip District.  The Bayard family bought the land that would later become Bayardstown, Croghansville and Lawrenceville from the Penn family in 1784. George Bayard started laying out Bayardstown in 1816.  By 1830, Bayardstown had a population of 2801, about the same as the City of Allegheny. For comparison, the 1847 population of Pittsburgh was 12,568.  In 1847, the Bayardstown business directory listed 5 butchers, 3 draymen, and 2 grocers, along with tailors, chandlers, tanners and one listing of “an old gent.”  Nobody selling “Irish Steeler Fan” t-shirts so far as we know, and definitely no Chinese grocery, but there was a “confectioner” as precursor to Mon Aimee Chocolates. 

In 1844, George Bayard sold land in Lawrenceville to Allegheny County for Allegheny Cemetary.  The Bayards also had a school named after them, which still stands and has been turned into loft apartments.

Allegheny Cemetary

Former Bayard School, now pretty swank looking lofts


I found little information about Croghansville, other than it was named for a George Croghan who lived there. He later built a home in Lawrenceville, on the bank of the Allegheny between 52nd and 53rd Streets, as known as Croghan’s Castle.  No pictures of it survive, and the site is now home to a pet hospital and some old-Pittsburgh-style small factories.

Site of Croghan’s Castle, with arrow pointing to pet hospital. Some small factories also stand nearby and the view of the Allegheny River is beautiful.


Lost Pittsburgh Neighborhoods: Shalerville

Posted by on Apr 28th, 2019 in Blog | 1 comment

Lost Pittsburgh Neighborhoods: Shalerville

As I do research for my next book, Righteous, I’m learning things that I never knew about the Pittsburgh area, even though I’ve lived here all my life.  I’ve even discovered some lost Pittsburgh neighborhoods, which I will explore and report on over the next few months.  First up:  Shalerville

Shalerville Yesterday

I grew up in Banksville, right next door to Beechview, but had never heard of Shalerville (Shalersville in some sources) until I started my book research.  It appears on this 1865 map of metropolitan Pittsburgh, lying at the southwestern foot of Mount Washington.  Today it is the site of Seldom-Seen Greenway Park in Beechview.  Information is hard to come by, but the community was apparently settled by German immigrants in the 1800s. Even after the trolley line came through southern Beechview in 1902, Shalerville (by then known as Seldom Seen) remained a distinct community, isolated from the housing development occurring on the hills to the south.  The residents of Seldom Seen continued to farm, raising chickens and much of their own food. 

Seldom Seen was annexed into the City of Pittsburgh in 1924 and became part of the Beechview neighborhood.  The last residents moved out of Seldom Seen by the 1960s.  In 1985 the area was dedicated as a greenway, and is now a lovely, natural park, embroidered with footpaths.  A tunnel under the railroad line serves as an entryway. 


Shalerville today

When Al and I took a walk in Seldom Seen Greenway on a cool, sunny, windy April day, we found a few remnants of the little farming community of Shalerville:  roof slates, crumbling red bricks, bits of pottery.  We hiked to a level spot that looked like a house must have stood there once, and a bank behind it that looked suspiciously like the former site of a bank barn.  We found an intact brick with the stamp “LAYTON” on it.  When we got home, we looked up Layton Brick Works, and found that the brick must have come from the Layton brick works near McKeesport.


Mostly, though, the site of Shalerville today is a pretty nature area, given over to hardwood trees, moss-covered railroad ties, and wild berry bushes.  Woodpeckers were hard at work the day we explored, and a carpet of violets covered the ground.  Robins sang and Saw Mill Run gurgled briskly over sandstone and aged red bricks.  Little remained of the isolated little farm community, except in our imaginations. 



Pittsburgh: The Story of a City – Leland D. Baldwin, University of Pittsburgh Press, 1937

Ten Best Historical Novels

Posted by on Apr 13th, 2019 in Blog | 0 comments

While I’m working on my own second historical novel, Righteous, I still read a lot of historical fiction.  It is my favorite genre.  Here are my nominations for the ten best historical novels.  Enjoy at least one of them soon!

Katherine by Anya Seton

I can’t list my favorite novel of all time, Jane Eyre, because it is not historical.  It was contemporary at the time when it was written.  But my second favorite, Katherine, has a plot that is weirdly similar to Jane Eyre.  Both Katherine and Jane fall in love with a married man.  They are both governess to their lover’s child. Both must painfully separate from him as a matter of principle.  And both are (spoiler alert) reunited with their lover later in life.  Katherine and Jane are women with both principles and passion, and I truly believe that these two books helped to form my own character.  I first read Jane Eyre when I was 11 and Katherine when I was 15, and I return to both and re-read them every 10-15 years. Find out more about this book

The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah

This novel about two sisters trapped the horrors of Nazi-occupied France deeply touched me.  Hannah is absolutely unsparing of her characters.  The sisters both endure and commit unspeakably horrible acts.  This book unmercifully portrays the way women suffer under war and occupation, and it broke my heart to think of women in Syria and other strife-torn parts of the world who are still enduring theses horrors right this minute. Find out more about this this book. Find out more about this book.

The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett

I love this book so much I’ve read it 3 times since it came out in the 1990s.  The historical setting of feudal England is very vivid, the characters are very likable and the justice at the end is extremely satisfying.  Follett does a wonderful job of putting his characters in danger and making you really root for them.  When I wrote my first novel, The Saint’s Mistress, I aspired to this kind of writing. Find out more about this book

Cold Mountain by Charles Frazier

I’ve read this one twice.  It’s the story of a deserter from the Confederate Army on his way home to his beloved.  Similar to The Nightingale, the author is unmerciful with his characters in this book.  The cruelty of war comes through loud and clear.  What I loved is the message of the book:  that life is full of both light and darkness, and the joy is worth every minute of the suffering.  Find out more about this book.

The Justification of Johann Gutenberg by Blake Morrison

After I finished my first novel, I considered writing about Gutenberg for my second novel.  Then I came across this book, and I realized I could not top it.  This is a wonderful novelization of a real historical character’s life.  We think of Gutenberg as a hero who brought literacy to the masses, but he was also a man who had to make a living, and he was a very flawed human being.  Morrison makes that clear; we see Gutenberg as both generous and mean, brilliant and petty.  My second novel is about another very flawed character, and this book is my inspiration for how to write that kind of person. Find out more about this book

The Treasure of Montsegur by Sophy Burnham

I read this book while travelling in Languedoc, where it takes place.  The main character is a Cathar, a heretical sect of the Catholic church in the 13th century.  Telling her story in the first person from the perspective of old age, Jeanne is a flawed character, similar to Gutenberg.  She is introspective and frank about her own flaws.  I liked how her spiritual life brought her contentment in her old age, in spite of poverty and persecution.  Find out more about this book.

Year of Wonders by Geraldine Brooks

I’ve read this one twice, too. It is the story of how the 17th-century plague impacts a small English village.  The language in the book is beautiful, and the main character, Anna, is a humble, poorly educated late-medieval woman but so likable, smart and brave.  I loved how she was allowed to grow over the course of the story.  Find out more about this book.

The Signature of All Things by Elizabeth Gilbert

Alma is a wonderful main character and her life story includes a mid-life hero’s journey.  Gilbert places her character in the middle of the intellectual ferment of the 19th century, especially the profound insights about evolution, and makes Alma’s intellectual quest every bit as fascinating and dramatic as the love story aspects.  For many years, Alma lives in a very small world, where, to have any scope at all, she must live deeply rather than broadly.  A testament to female intellect.  Find out more about this book.

All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr

The story of a blind French girl and a young German soldier in WW2.  No, don’t roll your eyes and think of Nicholas Sparks or something.  This is one of the closest-to-perfect books I have ever read.  The writing is gorgeous, and the story was absolutely perfectly plotted.  The hours leading up to the story’s climax in 1944 are flawlessly interwoven with the longer-term story that starts in the 1930s.  And the story has a moral core, which I always love in a book. Find out more about this book.

The Spectrum by Gary Link

Full disclosure:  I know this author.  But I would not put this book on my top ten list if it didn’t belong there.  This book is actually the second in a series, and is the best in the series.  The main character, John Parker, is a Pittsburgh constable in the 1840s.  A man of deep integrity, Parker also carries inside him a hidden heartache.  The setting is well-researched, and the themes of nativism and the real meaning of the American experiment are timely.  Find out more about this book. e

First Meeting

Posted by on Mar 30th, 2019 in Blog | 2 comments

Here is a sample chapter from my novel in progress, Righteous. It is a novelization of the life of Jane Grey Swisshelm, a Pittsburgh journalist and civil rights activist in the 19th century.

Here is a sample chapter from my novel in progress, Righteous. It is a novelization of the life of Jane Grey Swisshelm, a Pittsburgh journalist and civil rights activist in the 19th century.

March, 1830

The carriage ride back to Edgeworth School was weary and wet.  The day had started with drizzle from a low gray sky, but now rain fell steadily.  Although the carriage was covered, the damp cold seeped through leather boots and woolen coats and bonnets and seeped into Jane’s very bones and organs.  Even Abby and Hetty had ceased the hand-clapping games they had been giggling over and sat hunched and miserable with their hands in each other’s pockets.  Jane longed for such warm companionship, but at least her sturdy, home-knit woolen mittens were warmer than the other girls’ fashionable kid gloves. 

Jane’s mood matched the dismal weather.  Her heart sat heavy in her stomach at the prospect of returning to Edgeworth.  She gobbled at the knowledge like a glutton, but the other girls baffled her.  She couldn’t quite get it right, the niceties of adolescent girls, and their petty cruelties.  They were interested in such silly things:  hair ribbons, garters, games and boys.  Jane longed for admiration for her good grades and her excellent essays, but the other girls didn’t seem to value scholarship. Jane couldn’t figure out what they did value and was too shy to ask, although she longed for a friend with whom she could share her fears of eternal damnation and her efforts to live a life worthy of salvation.  She longed for a friend who would admire her piety, her thoughts of God, her good works.  She ached for a chance to show the girls how good she was; then surely they would like her. 

What if Abby should fall on a solo hike and break her leg? And when what if Jane happened along and helped her back home, all the way back to Edgeworth?  It should be very far, at least 2 miles.

Or what if Hetty became very ill in the middle of the night and Jane stayed up with her all night, cooling her brow with cloths and holding her hand?  Everyone would say how Jane had saved her life by breaking the fever and how brave she was to care for her friend at risk to herself.  Then while Hetty convalesced, Jane would remain loyal while the other girls played outside.  It would be Jane who brought her friend little bouquets and helped her to keep up with her schoolwork.  “Why, Jane,” she would exclaim, “you are so smart and so good!  I never knew!”  And when she was well, Hetty would tell the other girls, “Jane was my true friend when I was so ill.  And, did you know?  She’s awfully smart, too.  Her ideas on salvation are most intriguing.”  For Jane would, of course, also have shared her faith while caring for her friend, as a good Christian must do. 

And yet even to think such things was sinful, almost wishing accidents and poor health on her classmates.  Jane turned away from the girls, as if they might be able to read her thoughts. 

But what if she should come into a fortune?  What if, on a lonely walk one day, it should start to rain and she should be forced to take shelter in a long-hidden cave?  And there she came upon a cache of treasure hidden by pirates long ago?  She would keep nothing for herself, but donate almost all of it to the Covenanter Church for the relief of the poor.  A smaller amount she would use to purchase a beautiful stained-glass window for the assembly hall at Edgeworth.  She would be modestly anonymous until the girls, oohing and aahing at the beautiful window – Jesus in a field of lilies, being worshipped by a group of girls who looked like Jane and her classmates – begged to know how the school could afford such a luxury.  And Miss Harrison would let slip, “Oh, it was donated by Jane Cannon.  And, did you know?  The rest of the treasure she found is being used for poor relief in Pittsburgh.”  And suppose one of the girls’ family had only recently been delivered from destitution, and, before their deliverance, they had been recipients of daily stew from the Covenanter kitchen.  And this girl would come and thank Jane with tears in her eyes.  They would become bosom friends and the girl would confide to Jane that her family had been Heathen Methodists until the Covenanter kitchen not only saved them from starvation but saved their souls also, and now they were firm Covenanters, all through Jane’s benevolence.

The carriage creaked and bumped wearily along.  Jane stopped resisting and let herself sway and jostle with the movement.  As she was beginning to fall asleep, she was jerked back to consciousness by the sound of rushing water.  They were approaching Swiss Creek, but it was just a tiny stream, nothing that would make such a commotion.  Looking ahead, Jane saw that the rains and the snow melt had swollen the creek to a small river that rushed in little white-capped waves over the rocks.  They would have to stop, or detour upstream where the stream might be tamer.

But, Mr. Ball continued to drive the carriage toward what was, in better weather, an easy ford. 

The air noticeably cooled as they approached the stream, and the sound of water roiling over rocks grew louder.  The girls looked at each other, wide-eyed.  It would be disrespectful for young ladies to question Mr. Ball. 

Jane felt the carriage wheel beneath her slide on mud as they neared the ford.

“Mr. Ball!” she cried, “Should we not cross elsewhere?”

“Miss Cannon,” he yelled back, “Mind your business, and I’ll thank you to leave me to mind mine!”  He took one hand off the reins for an instant to wipe rain from his face. 

The horses were in the stream, struggling up the opposite bank, but jerked slightly to one side when Mr. Ball eased off the reins. 

The carriage began to slide sideways in the mud until it turned on its side into the stream, dumping its passengers into the water.

Jane felt herself being carried downstream and struggled to find a foothold or handhold.  She could hear the other girls screaming, but the shock of the icy cold had robbed her of her voice.  The overturned carriage shifted toward her and she grasped at one of the wheels and gripped it, scrambling to climb onto the carriage against the pull of the water. 

Abby was on top of the carriage.  She reached a hand to help Jane up, but their wet hands slid against each other.  Mr. Ball fought to release the horses, who kept struggling to pull the carriage, jostling it so that Abby and Jane clung for dear life. 

Then, through the driving rain, Jane saw a figure running from the nearby farmhouse.

The horses broke free, and with a loud crack the carriage sank. Abby lost her grip and barely grasped the wheel opposite Jane’s   The girls clung to the wheels, their heads barely above water, while the river pulled at them.  Jane felt her grip loosen and was sure she was about to be swept away when the stranger was upon her.  He lifted her in his arms and deposited her on the opposite bank, as Mr. Ball did the same with Abby. 

Where was Hetty?

The stranger dove behind the carriage.  He rose, choking, and dove again, emerging with a limp Hetty in his arms.

He laid her in the mud and turned her head to one side. Hetty coughed, spewing up some water.  Then she coughed again, her chest heaved and she vomited onto the ground.  The stranger picked her up again and ran towards the house with her, leaving Jane, Abby and Mr. Ball to limp their shivering way behind him. 

Jane had never been so cold.  Her waterlogged woolen dress clung to her legs and water squelched in her boots.  Her mittens had been lost in the river and her hands were white and numb.  The farmhouse door was a welcome sight. 

A stout middle-aged woman waited by the fire with blankets to wrap around the unexpected guests.  She seated Jane in a Windsor chair and covered her with a green woolen blanket.  “Sakes alive, man!” she scolded, “What possessed you to try to cross that stream in this weather?”

“’Twas deeper than I thought,” Ball admitted, sinking into a chair and accepting faded patchwork quilt.

“All’s well that ends well,” the stranger soothed.  Jane liked that he quoted Shakespeare.  With the emergency over, she looked at him for the first time.  He was young, perhaps only a few years older than her 14, surely under 21.  But he was a tall, sturdily built man, dark haired and dark-eyed, with a large nose and a firm, square chin.  Jane thought him very handsome, and she turned away lest he catch her staring. 

“I’ve laid the young lady who was underwater in the kitchen, mother,” he said.  “She is breathing, but weak and I think barely conscious.  Could you tend to her?” 

Still shaking her head in disbelief at Mr. Ball’s poor judgment, the old lady bustled towards the kitchen, throwing over her shoulder, “Make these folks something hot to drink, for heaven’s sake, James.”

James smiled apologetically and swung the teakettle over the fire to heat.  “James Swisshelm is my name, and the lady is my mother Mrs.  Mary Elizabeth Swisshelm.  This here is our farm.”

“Joe Ball,” Mr. Ball growled.  Jane suppressed a titter; she’d never known Mr. Ball’s first name.

“And you ladies?” Mr. Swisshelm inquired.

“Jane Cannon,” Jane answered.

“Abby Hamilton,” Abby whispered.  Jane wondered if she looked as pale and sopping as Abby did.

“What brought you folks out in this weather?”

“Taking these young ladies back to Edgeworth School from Pittsburgh,” Mr. Ball replied. 

Mr. Swisshelm nodded.  “Heck of a day for it.  Oh, excuse me, ladies.  I mean, not very good weather for it.”

Ball grunted noncommittally.

“Jane said we shouldn’t try to cross,” Abby piped up.  “She was the only one who tried to warn Mr. Ball.”  Abby gazed warmly at Jane, and Jane flushed with pleasure. 

Ball glared at her.  Mr. Swisshelm raised an eyebrow and looked at Jane.  “Was she now?” he said, as he poured hot water from the kettle into a flowered china teapot.  “I’ll see if I can round up your horses now, Mr. Ball.  It seems that you are your young ladies will be spending the night with us.  We’ll see you to Edgeworth in the morning.”

“Thank you kindly,” Ball said.

The cold wind threw a mist of rain into the room as Mr. Swisshelm went out. 

Warming now, Jane looked around her.  The main room of the farmhouse was very homey and hinted at some modest wealth.  Brocade curtains hung at both small glass windows, and pewter candlesticks and a pair of china dogs stood on the mantlepiece.  The spinning wheel in the corner was large, and etched-glass whale-oil lamps stood on both tables.  A set of stairs led to a full second-floor.  From where she sat, Jane could see into the dining room, which boasted two more brocade-curtained glass windows, and chairs with needlepointed cushions. 

Mrs. Swisshelm returned from the kitchen.  “Well, your third girl I think will survive, Mr. Ball, although whatever you were thinking I can’t imagine.  I’ve got her dressed in a dry nightdress and settled her onto the kitchen bed by the fire.  I mean to take her some of this tea now.  She may resist, but she must be warmed inside as well as out.”  The lady poured some of he tea into four china cups and handed one to each of her guests, then took the last cup back into the kitchen, muttering to herself, “Land sakes, it’s a miracle the girl’s alive.”

Mr. Swisshelm re-entered, removing his sopping hat and coat and hanging them on hooks near the front door.  “Your horses are safely in the barn, Mr. Ball.  Our hired hand is drying them off and feeding them.  It isn’t getting any nicer out there.”  He shook his head, heading for the teapot and pouring himself a cup.  “Care for a little good Pennsylvania whiskey in that cup, sir?”

Ball brightened up.  “Don’t mind if I do,” he replied, with a sideways glance toward the kitchen. 

Mr. Swisshelm winked, withdrew a slim flask from his pocket and poured a portion first into Mr. Ball’s cup and then into his own.  “My mother and I are good Methodists, sir, but on a day like this I think the good Lord forgives.”

A Methodist!  Jane shuddered and felt a pang of disappointment.  Well, they were everywhere, she supposed, not just in Pittsburgh. 

“I made her drink some hot tea,” Mrs. Swisshelm announced as she blustered back into the room.  “And then she went right to sleep.  She’s by the fire and warming nicely.”  Jane imagined Hetty rising like a loaf of bread and suppressed another titter.  She felt a bit light-headed and silly after the close call. 

“Now,” Mrs. Swisshelm continued, “I think you young ladies are warmed enough that it’s time to get you out of those wet clothes.  Lucky for you my girls and their younger brothers are away with their father visiting relatives in Pittsburgh.  We’ve got extra nightclothes, and you girls can sleep in Rose and Eva’s bed.  Mr. Ball, you can sleep with James.  Come, girls, let’s get you into dry clothes now.  Thank heaven James saw your accident and rescued you.  I don’t know what would have happened to you.”  Shaking her head and tsking, she picked up a lamp led Jane and Abby up the stairs.

Jane woke the next morning to icy cold, and pulled the patchwork quilt up to her chin.  For a few minutes, she lay half-awake and then it occurred to her that she might have to go downstairs to fetch her clothing, which had been drying by the fire.  All of her other clothes, that she had packed for school, had surely been lost in the stream.  She felt a pang for her poor mother, who would have to somehow find the funds to re-clothe her. 

Jane’s father had died three years ago, leaving Mary Scott Cannon with two daughters and a son to raise alone.  Mary borrowed money from her parents to open a little store and barely earned enough to pay off Thomas Cannon’s debts and keep her children fed and clothed. 

But Jane’s immediate problem was how to get her clothing while avoiding the embarrassing possibility of running into Mr. Swisshelm while wearing his sister’s nightgown. 

Abby was still sound asleep.  Jane forced herself out of bed and crept on icy toes down the stairs.  She peered around the corner into the living room.  No sign of Mr. Swisshelm.  Jane scurried into the room, and was gathering up her things when Mr. Swisshelm came through the door from the dining room.  She froze.

Mr. Swisshelm turned his head.  “I do apologize, Miss Cannon.” 

Jane picked up her boots and scurried up the stairs, her face warm.  Trembling, her back turned to the bed, she hurried into her clothes.  Oh, how could she ever face him again? 

Her dress, stockings and underclothes were dry and warm.  Her boots were still damp, but there was nothing for it; they must be worn as is.  As Jane stumbled into her boots, Abby turned lazily in the bed and murmured, “Good morning, Jane.”

“Morning,” Jane mumbled.  Abby had barely ever spoken to her before, but she was too mortified to even think of making conversation now and, anyway, she never knew what to say to these girls.  And what would Abby think if she knew that Mr. Swisshelm had seen Jane in a state of undress? 

“My, it’s cold,” Abby complained, stretching her arms above her head. 

Footsteps clumped on the stairs and soon Mrs. Swisshelm appeared with Abby’s clothes.  “Here are your clothes, Miss Hamilton,” she said, “I can’t seem to find..  Oh.  Miss Cannon.  I see you are already dressed.  Well, then.  Get yourselves dressed and ready for breakfast.  Mr. Swisshelm will convey you to school in our wagon.  Your friend Miss Grant seems quite well enough to travel.”  She turned and descended the stairs, muttering something that Jane couldn’t hear but imagined was some complaint about scandalous young ladies who exposed themselves in their borrowed nightgowns to innocent young men.

Mrs. Swisshelm provided her guests with a hasty breakfast of bacon, fried eggs, and bread with apple butter before sending them on their way.  James would hitch Ball’s team to his wagon, and Ball would ride alongside on one of the Swisshelm horses.  The single horse would be able to pull the empty wagon back to the Swisshelm farm. 

It was a fine March day.  A timid bit of sun broke through the retreating rain clouds, and raindrops glistened on the swelling buds of cherry trees.  The Swisshelm property boasted many willows, which tossed their greening tresses like wanton girls.  Early robins chirped, fluttered and fought over worms.

Abby seemed to have forgotten the previous day’s compliments to Jane and their tentative intimacy.  She and Hetty huddled together on the wagon bench opposite Jane, giggling, chattering and playing their hand-clap games, as if Jane weren’t there.  Jane was left to contemplate her many errors in miserable silence.  Her cold hands missed the wooly mittens she had lost in Swiss creek.  She thought again of her lost wardrobe and the trouble it would cost her mother to replace it, and swallowed back tears. 

Shortly before they would reach the toll bridge across the Monongahela into Braddock, Mr. Swisshelm stopped to briefly water the horses.  “Would you care to sit up front with me for the rest of the journey, Miss Cannon?” he asked, not looking at her.  “I’d enjoy the company.”

Jane had already blurted, “Yes!” before she realized her mistake.  What would Hetty and Abby think of her siting on the front seat with a young man she barely knew?  What would they say to the other girls?  Jane’s reputation would be ruined.  Not to mention the mortification of sitting beside a man who had very recently seen her in his sister’s nightgown.  But she had already said yes.  She climbed up, not daring to glance back at her classmates, and looked straight ahead, hands clenched in her lap.

They rode along in silence for a few minutes, before Mr. Swisshelm ventured, “Nice day.  Makes me itch to get a crop in.  I hope we’ll have a dry spring so we can plant early.”

Jane was a city girl who knew nothing of crops, and only hoped for dry springs so that the mud on the Pittsburgh’s dirt streets might not be too deep.  “Yes, I hope you will, Mr. Swisshelm,” she replied.

“So what do you young ladies study there at Edgeworth school?”

“Drawing, singing, literature, mathematics.”

“Mathematics for girls?  Sounds hard.”

Jane did find mathematics to be, if not difficult, at least tedious.  “My favorite is literature,” she blurted.  “I noticed that you quoted Shakespeare last night.”

“I did?”

“Yes, you said ‘all’s well that ends well’.”  You know, from the play of the same name.”

“Well, miss, I have to confess I didn’t know I was quoting Shakespeare.  I’ll be darned.  Oh, excuse me!  But you sure are well-educated.”

Jane blushed and couldn’t think of an appropriate reply.

“May I tell you something else that I admire about you?” he asked.

Jane squirmed and continued to look straight ahead.  “I suppose.”

“I like how you spoke up to Ball there about not crossing that stream.  Took a lot of courage for a little girl to speak up like that.”

“I’m not a little girl.  I’m almost 15.”

“I beg your pardon, miss.  You being so small and dainty I thought you were younger.  What I mean to say, Miss Cannon, is that I feel that you have a good mind and a brave heart and, if it’s not too bold to say, I like that in a woman.”

Jane blushed and dared to look up at him.  “Thank you.”

“I’m not much of one for flibbertigibbet women,” he said, tilting his head backward towards Abby and Hetty.

“How old are you?” she asked, then wondered if it were too bold a question.

“I’m 18,” he replied.  “I’m the oldest son, so I’ll probably inherit the farm.  I’m the one most interested, anyway. My brothers are more interested in commerce.”

It appeared that Mr. Swisshelm had exhausted his conversational topics for the moment, as they approached the bridge.  The wagon wheels and the horse’s hooves were thunderous on the wooden bridge deck.  Beneath them, the Monongahela River ran strong, with small clots of melting ice riding the whitecaps.  Partially-submerged bare trees clawed the river’s edges.  The air on the bridge was icy and muddy-smelling. 

It was slow going through Braddock’s muddy streets, but finally they were ascending the hill to Edgeworth. 

“Nice situation here,” Mr. Swisshelm observed.  “This would be good pastureland for a herd.”

Jane nodded.  She wished she could think of a clever reply, to affirm his judgment of her good mind, but she knew nothing of pastures or herds. 

Jane’s heart sank when they stopped at the entrance to the school.  If only she had been able to think of more memorable things to say to Mr. Swisshelm.  She felt she would remember him for the rest of her life, but that he would have forgotten her by the time he got back to his farm. 

He offered his hand to help her down from the wagon.  At his touch, her heart leapt and her whole arm felt like a beehive. 

He next helped Abby and Hetty down.  Jane stood awkwardly, wondering how to say goodbye, and finally started walking towards the door of the school building.

“Miss Cannon!” he called.

Jane turned. 

“I am sorry that it took such a tragic accident for it to happen, but I am glad to have met you,” he said.

“Thank you for saving our lives,” Jane whispered. 

“It was my duty and my pleasure.  I hope that we may meet again at some time in the future.”

“I, too,” she replied.  But, as she trudged to the door in her still-damp boots, Jane was certain that she would never again lay eyes on Mr. James Swisshelm. 

Copyright 2014 Kathryn Bashaar | Design by | Adapted from PureType