"That seems like quite an old piece Margaret, where ever did you come by it?"
"Are you referring to that ol' pewter pitcher there on the mantel? Well of course you are. It came with the house Ester."
" Really? It came with the house?"
"Yes it did, it came with the house. I found it in that side cabinet, there, aside of the fireplace. I thought for sure the previous owner had forgotten it so I called the realtor to tell her what I'd found and to say that I was sure the previous owner would want it. But the realtor was aware that the pitcher had been left behind. She said that the previous owner, Mrs. Lloyd Penderghast had left it purposely, saying that it was as much a part of the house as the boards and nails."
"My goodness Margaret, whatever do you suppose she meant by that, as much a part of the house as the nails and boards?"
"Well. as you can imagine Ester, I did inquire as to whether or not the realtor knew what was meant by that. She went on to say that she wasn't exactly clear on the details, but that some time back, when the house was built or there abouts, some famous personage has been invited to stay here in this house and gave the owners a gift of the pewter creamer and sugar bowl in gratitude for their hospitality."
"Oh Margaret, aren't you just itching to know who that famous person was who stayed in YOUR house all those many years ago? Why, maybe you'll find more treasures if you search hard enough."
"Of course my curiosity was peaked Ester, so I went to the local historical society to see what I could find out about the history of this house."
"And what did you learn Margaret?"
"In 1777 this house was owned by a group know as the Moravian Brethren, and following a revolutionary war battle; the battle of Brandywine, they cared for a wounded officer, a Major-General, in Washington's Army. The man was the Marquis de Lafayette. Now whether or not he is the person who gave the pewter set, I like to believe he did. I also like the idea that I may be sleeping every night in the same bed once occupied by that gallant and dashing Frenchman."
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Labels: Magpie tales. pewter pitcher