“Let’s see, they started to survey the city in 1791. Wow, if Benjamin Banneker was born in 1731, that means he was sixty years old at the time,” Peter figured.
“That’s not so old,” Gramps remarked.
“Well, in those days it was. In school I learned the average life expectancy was thirty-something,” added Meg.
“Maybe this is where Robert fits in,” Peter continued. “Maybe Benjamin Banneker brought Robert along to help with the survey. Banneker didn’t have any children, but Robert could have been his nephew. He probably had to carry all the equipment.”
“Peter, I think we’re getting close to something,” said Meg. “Let’s ask that guide if there is an exhibit in the museum that will help us.”
“There is an exhibit of the equipment used when the city was surveyed. Let me show you,” said the guide. He took them to the room full of land-measuring devices. “Unfortunately,” the guide informed them, “a piece of a transit used by Washington is missing.”
“I can guess which one,” Peter muttered under his breath.
Which piece is missing?
“The eyepiece!” Peter offered, elbowing Meg. “Maybe we can find it,” he told the guide.
Meg pointed at another eyepiece in the exhibit. “It would look like this, right?” she asked.
“Yes. But I hardly think you’ll find it,” the guide said, politely but doubtfully. “It’s been missing for over 200 years.”
“We’ll see what we can do,” said Peter confidently. Then he whispered to Meg. “Now what are we supposed to do? We don’t even know which artifact is important in this history mystery.”
“I was thinking the same thing. Look at your old map, maybe there’s another clue. I’ll check the artifact list. One of them must have something to do with the missing eyepiece.”
“Oops. I almost forgot,” Gramps said, looking sheepish. “I forgot to give you the last clue.”
“It’s a letter from Robert to his Uncle Benjamin!” exclaimed Meg.
“Is it authentic?” the guide gasped. “This is incredible!”
“What does ‘House of Spirits’ mean? A funeral parlor?” asked Peter.
“No,” said the guide. “In colonial times spirits meant drinks such as ale or wine. House of Spirits is probably a tavern.”
“Wait a minute, there is an historic tavern where President Washington stayed while the city was being surveyed,” the guide told them. “I’ll show you where it is on the map.”
“Listen to this,” Peter said, reading from his book about Benjamin Banneker. “At one point during the survey, President Washington came to visit the site. He stayed in a tavern and met with other surveyors. So it is possible that a meeting between the President and Banneker actually took place.”
“So Benjamin Banneker might have met with George Washington? Then maybe Robert was there too?” Meg said excitedly.
“Thank you for the information,” Peter told the guide. “Don’t worry, if we find the eyepiece, we’ll give it to the Smithsonian.”
Which mystery artifact do you think fits here?
“The artifact for this mystery has got to be the compass!” Meg said, pulling it out of her knapsack.
“You’re right,” Peter agreed. “The compass will show us what’s six paces southwest of the House of Spirits. Let’s go.”
They raced back to their minivan and before long they arrived at the old tavern.
“It’s definitely old,” observed Meg.
Peter read the compass. “The tavern is facing south,” he said.
“Many old buildings were built on a southern exposure to receive the most light and heat from the sun,” Gramps informed them.
“What’s this stone post for? asked Peter.
“They would tie their horses to that,” Gramps explained.
“Look at this old sign with the menu,” Meg said. “They certainly had a different way of talking about food. Come on, let’s talk to the tavern keeper.”
“George Washington did sleep here,” the tavern keeper told them proudly. He read the old letter. “But I don’t know anything about missing surveying equipment. Maybe the uncle never got the message. Hmmm, you can look down in the old wine cellar if you want. That’s where the ‘spirits’ were kept.”
“Sounds mysterious,” said Peter. “Let’s check it out.”
“I’m hungry,” Gramps said. “I’ll stay up here and sample some fare.”
Meg followed Peter down the stone steps into the cool, dark cellar and flicked her flashlight. “Peter,” said Meg, “I don’t think we’re going in the right direction.”
“You’re right,” said Peter. “The needle isn’t pointed southwest.”
Where would you go?
They scurried back upstairs. “Has the sign outside always hung in that position?” Meg asked the tavern keeper.
“Absolutely,” he replied. “Every detail in this building is historically correct. That’s actually the original sign. Only the paint has been restored.”
Meg and Peter went back outside and stood under the tavern sign. Gramps and the tavern keeper followed them, curious to see what they were up to.
Peter read the compass. “Okay, that’s southwest,” he said, pointing.
Meg took six big paces and ended at the hitching post. “This has got to be it,” she declared.
“But where?” They all wondered.
“Robert was waiting out here with the horses. He had to leave urgently for some reason, and he had the eyepiece,” Meg reasoned aloud.
“Maybe it started raining,” suggested Peter. “So he pulled up a couple of cobblestones and hid the eyepiece underneath them.” He knelt down and loosened some of the cobblestones.
“Go ahead. I’ll get a shovel,” said the tavern keeper. “This is incredible!”
Meg and Peter carefully dug beneath the cobblestones until they detected an object.
“It’s rotted leather, but there’s something inside,” said Peter.
Layers of dirt and leather broke away to reveal the remnants of a velvet case that was surprisingly well preserved. Peter opened it. To their amazement, inside they found an eyepiece and a parchment note.
“Is the note from Robert?” asked Meg.
“No …,” Peter stuttered. “It’s from President Washington to Robert. It says: ‘Master Banneker. Please polish this eyepiece for me this afternoon. ’ And it’s signed ‘George Washington’.” They passed the note and eyepiece around in amazement.
“The Smithsonian will be happy to get this historic eyepiece back,” said Meg.
“And a signature of George Washington’s too!” Peter said. “Now we know what Robert witnessed in Washington — the President meeting with the surveyors!”
History Mystery #4
The Camouflage Clue in Ohio
Gramps, Meg, and Peter Mackintosh had just solved a history mystery in Washington, D.C. They were heading northwest towards Ohio, eager to reach their next history mystery destination.
“We need to find somewhere in Ohio called Ashtabula,” said Meg as she scanned the map.
“Ashtabula? What kind of place is that?” asked Peter. “Some of these places have strange sounding names.”
“I’m not sure,” said Meg. “We’ll find that out when we get there.”
“It will be a while before we get to Ohio,” said Gramps as he got out the envelope labeled “The Camouflage Clue in Ohio.” He pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to them. This clue ought to keep you occupied for a while.”
“But it’s all mixed up!” said Peter. “Professor Brown is full of surprises!”
Decipher the clue. What does it mean?
“Quick, let’s unscramble it to get the message,” said Meg.
“Cross a magic line to what? Who are the friends? Follow the North Star to a train? What kind of railroad does that? Who’s ‘Mother H’?” asked Peter.
“Peter, that’s it — railroad! Maybe it means the Underground Railroad,”Me
g speculated.
“It’s possible,” Peter agreeed. “In school we learned that thousands of slaves escaped from the southern states on the Underground Railroad in the mid 1800s.”
“But which artifact and which child?” wondered Meg.
Can you guess which artifact is a part of this mystery?
“I bet it’s the lantern,” said Peter. “They probably needed it to find their way in the darkness.”
“Maybe,” said Meg. “We still don’t have much information. And what is the camouflage clue?”
“I don’t know,” answered Peter. “Maybe a clue hidden on something?”
After a while Meg and Peter both dozed off thinking about the clue.
Gramps woke them up when they crossed the Ohio River from West Virginia into Ohio. Then he pulled into a nearby diner to feed his hungry travelers.
“Do you know if Ohio was part of the Underground Railroad?” Meg asked the waitress after she’d taken their order.
“As a matter of fact, this part of Ohio was heavily traveled by escaping slaves on the Underground Railroad because it was so close to the slave state of West Virginia,” the waitress told them. “Once the runaways crossed the Ohio River, they were on their way to freedom.”
“I forget, why did they call it the Underground Railroad?” Peter asked.
Why did they call the escape route the Underground Railroad?
“Well,” the waitress said, leaning on the counter. “My history teacher told us that the name came from a story about a slave who ran away from Kentucky by swimming across the Ohio River. When his owner searched all over but couldn’t find him, he was so bewildered he said that the slave must have escaped on an ‘underground road’!”
“The name fits because it was so secretive,” Peter added.
“And they called the safe places the slaves traveled to ‘stations’ and the leaders were called ‘conductors’,” the waitress continued, “Once the slaves crossed the river and headed upstream, it was harder for the owners to follow the tracks.”
There was map of Ohio on the placemats. Peter traced a route due north from West Virginia to Ashtabula with his finger. “Look, Meg,” he said, “If they followed the North Star directly they would arrive in Ashtabula. I wonder what’s there.”
“A lot of Quakers helped to hide the escaped slaves,” said Gramps.
“There’s a Quaker Meeting house not far from here in Mount Pleasant,” the waitress told them. “You might want to visit it.”
“Maybe the Quakers were the ‘friends’ — and I think we know what the ‘magic line to cross’ is,” Meg said, and Peter agreed.
Who were the Quakers? What is the magic line to cross?
“Actually the Quakers do call themselves the Society of Friends. They believe in equality of all people and non violence,” Gramps told them. “They were very much opposed to slavery. I’ll take you to that meeting house first thing in the morning.”
“And ‘crossing the magic line’ has to mean ‘crossing over into freedom’!” Meg exclaimed. “The Ohio River must be part of the magic line!”
That night they camped out, whispering in the tent about the upcoming mystery and the mysterious artifacts. Peter stuck a flashlight in the old lantern.“Imagine carrying this light through the woods in the middle of the night trying to escape. It’s pretty scary,” he remarked.
Before Meg snuggled into her sleeping bag, she picked up the doll that lay on the bottom of the musty old chest. Meg gazed at her sweet face and wondered whom she might have belonged to. She was made of plain coarse cotton, but her features were carefully sewn in delicate stitches. Her hair was made of black yarn. She wore a red dress with a petticoat underneath.
“Someone loved her a lot,” Meg thought to herself. “I wish she could tell us her story. I have a hunch that she’s the Ohio mystery artifact. Maybe she traveled on the Underground Railroad.”
Meg fell asleep with the doll next to her, wondering what the doll’s name might have been and imagining the doll’s owner. “She must have been so frightened,” thought Meg as she drifted off to sleep.
Which artifact do you think is involved in with the Ohio mystery? Why?
The next morning, they pulled up in front of the Quaker Meeting House.
“It’s a beautiful building,” remarked Gramps. “So peaceful and plain. The Quakers often worship in silence.”
The caretaker invited them inside and explained how the Quakers helped the runaway slaves.
“The password was ‘a friend with a friend’,” he whispered. “They hid the slaves in their houses, barns, and businesses. Then they secretly moved them hidden in carriages and wagons from station to station.”
Then he showed them a map of sites in Ohio that were possible stops on the Underground Railroad.
“We’re on the right track, Meg-O,” Peter said, nudging her. “I see a clue in Ashtabula.”
Do you see a clue on the map?
“Look!” exclaimed Meg, pointing at the map. “In Ashtabula there’s a place called Hubbard House. It was a station on the Underground Railroad. Maybe it has something to do with the mystery.”
That afternoon they drove along the Ohio River north toward Ashtabula. They had picked up some books on the Underground Railroad at a local bookstore, and Meg was intently reading the stories about the escapes. Many were horrifying and sad, but all were stories of courage and hope that the runaways would make it to freedom.
After a while she just stared out the window and wondered what it must have been like to run through the woods and hide along the banks of a river with little protection or food or shelter.
Peter had been reading about the Underground Railroad too.
“I think I know who ‘Mother H’ is!” Peter declared, interrupting Meg’s thoughts.
“Who?” asked Meg.
Who do you think Mother H is?
“Mother H means Mother Harriet — Harriet Tubman,” said Peter. “She was an escaped slave and one of the greatest conductors of the Underground Railroad.”
“It’s a good hunch,” Meg said. “But didn’t Harriet Tubman go by a different code name?”
Do you know what Harriet Tubman was called?
Peter scanned through his book on Harriet Tubman. “You’re right. Harriet Tubman was called ‘Moses’ because she worked so hard to free her people. She made nineteen dangerous trips back
Do you know what Harriet Tubman was called?
and forth to the South to free slaves.
Meg leaned over and grabbed the old doll from the trunk. For the first time, she noticed a primitive scene sewn onto the petticoat.
“Look!” she shouted. “There’s a house and a lake, and a river. The building looks like a church without a steeple, and there’s a yellow house with two chimneys and some big trees.”
Then she felt something hard and lumpy sewn into the hidden pocket on the dress. She carefully pulled apart the tiny stitches.
“It’s an old dried-up nut of some kind,” said Meg as she showed it to Peter and Gramps.
What could these latest clues mean? To whom do you think the doll belonged?
“Why, it’s a walnut. An old shriveled up one, but that’s what it is. My neighbor had a walnut tree in his yard. We collected them when we were kids,” Gramps told them.
“A walnut from a walnut tree. A house on a lake. Now the pieces of the puzzle are beginning to fit,” said Meg. “Let me see that map again.” Then she compared the map to the scene sewn on the doll’s petticoat. “Maybe this isn’t just a pretty design,” she said.
“What are you talking about?” asked Peter. “I thought the lantern was the mystery artifact. What’s the doll got to do with it?”
“A lot more than we thought,” said Meg.
Just then Gramps pulled up in front of the Hubbard House Museum.
What has Meg deduced? Who is Mother H.? To whom do you think the doll belongs?
“The doll’s dress is a map! A camouflage map for the Under
ground Railroad!” Meg exclaimed. “Look! We crossed the Ohio River and then went to a Quaker Meeting house. Our final destination is a house that looks like this on a lake! But what does the walnut mean?” Peter wondered.
“Look at the trees in front and the address,” said Gramps. “We’re on the corner of Lake and Walnut streets. Walnut trees have probably been around here for a long time.”
When they entered the museum, they realized their deductions were correct. The Museum Director told them that the code word for the Hubbard House was ‘Mother Hubbard’s,’ and it was a destination for many runaways on the Underground Railroad.
“I think our doll has found her home,” said Meg. “I think she belongs in a cupboard here at Old Mother Hubbard’s. And she had to belong to a girl with the first initial ‘E’. See the ‘E’ embroidered at the edge? The mystery child must be Eve.”
“Eve must have been a slave running for freedom. I bet her mother made the doll for her as a camouflage map,” added Peter.
“Why don’t we call the doll Eve, after the owner,” Meg said, giving the old doll a squeeze. “Welcome home, Eve. This is a good place for you to stay and tell your story.”
History Mystery 5
The Warning at Scottsbluff
“Scottsbluff is the next stop on the history mystery tour,” Peter Mackintosh said as he studied the map.
“What exactly is a bluff?” asked his sister Meg.
“It means to deceived,” Peter said with a grin. “For instance, we don’t have very far to drive today.”
“I think you’re bluffing,” Meg said as she looked over his shoulder at the map. “We have hundreds of miles to go!”
“You’re right,” said Gramps from the driver’s seat of the minivan. “And a bluff is a high, steep cliff.”
“How much longer?” Meg teased.
“Why don’t you two figure it out,” Gramps suggested. “We’re in Cleveland. Figure out how long it will take to get to Scottsbluff, Nebraska, if we drive 400 miles a day? We’ll go straight on highways.”
“Let’s see,” said Peter. “The scale of the map is one inch equals 200 miles, and we have to go about six inches.”
If they travel about 400 miles per day, how long should it take them to reach Scottsbluff?
Meg Mackintosh Solves Seven American History Mysteries Page 3
