Dreams of Revolution (eBook)

~ Chapter 2 ~

In the parlor of the Big House, Rachel sat beside Susanna Sterling at a wooden card table inlaid with fancy scrolls and cherubs. Rachel marveled at the opulent furnishings of the room. There was a wide fireplace, with ornately carved woodwork and brass andirons, below the almost life-sized, gilt-framed portrait of Daniel Sterling’s father staring from above the mantle. A colorful wool rug lay on the gleaming hardwood floor. Heavy floor-to-ceiling, green velvet drapes graced the large multi-paned windows, leather-bound tomes overflowed the bookcases, and a flint-lock musket hung over the doorway. A massive map on the wall showed, in shaded red areas, the Sterlings’ land holdings, and the pigeonholes in the ironmaster’s mahogany desk were bursting with papers. A small fire crackled and popped in the grate, taking the autumn chill off the room.

The girls were here for their lessons in math, classical poetry and literature, and writing. Mr. Elliott, their tutor, was a lanky man with soft, brown eyes topped by a high forehead. At the nape of his neck lay a wild shock of curly, shoulder-length, dark hair. His simple suit was well-worn and a little frayed at the edges. He handed their papers to them.

“Rachel, would you please read your review of Robinson Crusoe?”

She stood and read her prose with enthusiasm, describing the plot and her favorite characters. Susanna, slouched in her chair, played with the cuff of her sleeve.

Rachel sat down and looked expectantly at her teacher. He said, “That was a marvelous report. It sounds like you immensely enjoyed Daniel Defoe’s novel.”

“Yes, I barely put it down long enough to do my chores. I would love to read similar books if you have them.”

“I’ll drop one at your house sometime this week. Susanna, let’s hear your essay on Gulliver’s Travels.”

Susanna reluctantly rose, holding her paper in front of her. “Oh, I don’t understand why it’s necessary to read these stories and write about them. That’s not going to help me run a household or catch a man,” she lamented.

“A well-rounded lady in society has to be able to converse intelligently about the popular novels of our time.”

“Well, I can understand the need for reading books, but writing about them ruins the book for me.”

“Writing a composition is my way of making sure you finish the assigned work.”

“My essays aren’t as exciting as Rachel’s and never will be,” she protested. “How can I compete with her? She could be a writer herself.”

“We are not competing. By composing essays, you sharpen your letter writing skills too.”

“But the people to whom I’ll send letters won’t judge my grammar, punctuation, and penmanship like you do. There’s too much work to do it perfectly.”

“I’m sure at times you will correspond with influential people. They may not know you personally, and they’ll judge you by how well you write. It is important,” he insisted.

Susanna sighed, defeated again. She began to read haltingly. Rachel sat patiently, her drifting mind wondering what book the tutor would choose for her. Why does Susanna always make such a fuss? She supposed part of it was being a spoiled rich girl being bested in academic matters by a mere founder’s daughter.

The Palsgroves paid for the tutor’s services since schooling was neither mandatory nor free. Mr. Elliott thought Susanna might enjoy her education more if she had a companion close in age studying with her. But age was where their similarities ended. Susanna’s interests were fashion and hair, boys and city life. Rachel dressed like a tomboy, usually didn’t check her hair after combing it once in the morning, and wasn’t very interested in the opposite sex. As for life in the city, Rachel had never even seen a city. Susanna delighted in accompanying her parents to Philadelphia to go shopping and to visit friends. Intellectually, Susanna was bright, but Mr. Elliott’s best pupil was Rachel, who was constantly questioning and eager to learn.

Susanna finished her report and slumped in her chair. “You did a fine job,” the teacher praised. When he glanced at the clock behind him, Susanna stuck out her tongue at Rachel.

“This new assignment is for the next time we meet. I want you to imagine what you want to accomplish in the future. What will you be doing in five years? Ten years? What are your dreams? I’ll expect at least one written page with good grammar and penmanship, so don’t dash it off the night before. Give it some thought, scribble your ideas, make a rough draft, and write a perfected final copy. Any questions? This will be our last requirement for our time together.”

“I understand,” said Susanna. “Thank goodness we aren’t writing about a book. That will make it easier. I can make it up from my head.”

Rachel nodded in agreement as Mr. Elliott gathered his books. “Meet here next Tuesday.”

The following week, the girls sat primly on the chairs around the table, holding their final essays. Rachel wore a simple, floral frock, and Susanna wore a yellow ruffled dress that accentuated her blonde curls. The stately tall case clock in the corner ticked loudly as they waited for their tutor to get settled.

“Who wants to read their composition first?”

“I’ll go first,” volunteered Susanna. Both Mr. Elliott and Rachel looked surprised since Susanna never volunteered to share first.

She stood, smoothed down her petticoats, and coughed daintily. “My Future. Within the next five years, I will be living in Philadelphia in a mansion with lovely, manicured gardens filled with topiary plants shaped like exotic animals. In front, there will be a broad porch where guests can relax on wicker furniture on hot summer days. Six bedrooms will enable my friends and family to stay over anytime they visit. A cook, a maid, and another servant will tend the house and grounds.

“The carriage house in the back will stable two sleek, black horses and a black chaise with gilt accents and red leather cushions. I’ll use it to attend parties and theater engagements with my friends. My clothes will be the latest fashions from Paris, and I won’t wear the same dress more than twice. Ostrich feather plumes and fresh flowers will adorn my hats, and I’ll own a set of gloves to match each outfit.

“To accompany me to social events, I’ll choose from several suitors, each one more handsome than the other.

“In ten years, I picture myself happily married with two small children. My husband, a successful businessman, will be tall, with dark wavy hair and a mustache. He’ll adore me and will be a doting father who roughhouses with our healthy, freckle-faced boy, and reads nursery rhymes to our blonde, curly-haired little girl.

“Every month, we’ll host elaborate parties, attended by all the important people in Philadelphia. My husband’s many business contacts will bring their lovely wives to view our richly decorated home. Everyone will eagerly attend our lavish fêtes.

“My days will be filled with running the household, pampering my children, and planning our social engagements. I’ll be an envied pillar of the community.”

Susanna sat down with a grin. Mr. Elliott was speechless. Susanna envisioned a life dreamed about by many women, but such a life was possible for her. He would never achieve such riches. He was a poor tutor, relegated to teaching the wealthy, not to experience being one of them.

Recovering from his initial shock, he said, “You did a fantastic job on your paper, Susanna. You gave the assignment a lot of thought and added some excellent details. That’s your best work this year. Well done.”

“Yes, I found this assignment easy.” Her face glowed with pride.

“Rachel, could you read us your essay?”

Rachel now was the dismayed student. Her aspirations weren’t anything like Susanna’s, and they would probably both laugh. But if she were to achieve her goals, she had to acknowledge them to herself and everyone.

Rachel stood and said, “My dreams are quite different from hers. We have dissimilar personalities and stations in life, but these goals are as real to me as Susanna’s are to her. I hope you won’t think them odd or unachievable.” She glanced nervously at their faces.

“I’m sure whatever you have written is fine, Rachel,” Mr. Elliott encouraged. “There are no right or wrong ideas.” Susanna smirked and gazed into space.

Rachel began. “My goal is to become a teacher, like Mr. Elliott. I admire the work he does, educating young people, and expanding their knowledge of the world. Learning is my greatest passion, and I want to not only know more facts and skills but learn how to instruct others.

“I want to attend the university in Philadelphia. When I graduate, I hope to find a teaching job in the city or a village like ours. By teaching scientific principles, perhaps students will invent products to make our...