Step Back in Time with Hitty

T he YouTube algorithm is a strange and terrifying beast, but it’s been entertaining me recently with clips from Pawn Stars episodes. I’ve seen episodes about Beatles memorabilia, an amazing vintage plane, and a poker cheat’s tools from the 1920s. If it’s a well-documented piece, or a family heirloom, the sellers can give both personal and historical context to the objects, but, usually, we can only imagine what sights and sounds the item has been privy to over the decades.

In college, I had the privilege to live in a historic campus dorm known to the administration as “The Dow House,” but affectionately called, in a nod to its onetime owners, “The Paul House” by students. This two-story Victorian home was a fascinating collection of rooms, many of which were covered in layers of wallpaper. Before my junior year, the college gave my family permission to repaint and redecorate some of the main rooms, and during our wallpaper-scraping spree, we discovered, penciled on the wall behind layer No. 3, a company name and date from 1920. If only these walls could talk!

The wish for intimate details about an old space is played upon well by author Rachel Field in her Newberry Award–winning book Hitty: Her First Hundred Years. This beloved children’s book follows a small wooden doll from her creation and beginnings in early-1800s Maine up through her arrival at an antiques store in mid-1900s New York.

Field works magic with her portrayal of the titular doll. Hitty — short for the biblical name “Mehitabel” — has a distinct voice that is amusing, disappointed, and indignant in turn. She weathers many storms — literally and figuratively — and is held dear by quite a few owners, never passing too much judgment on any and painting the portrait and character of each in interesting terms.

The tale balances a doll-sized view of the world with major historical changes. During her first adventure on a whaling boat, we learn about the mighty trade and dangerous lifestyle surrounding the production of whale oil. Over the decades, she observes the effects of the Civil War — from both sides — is held by Charles Dickens during one of his U.S. visits, has a poem written about her by John Greenleaf Whittier, hears Adelina Patti sing, has her daguerreotype taken, rides a train, and gets tossed out of an automobile.

While the historical aspects of the story are interesting, what fascinates readers are the twists and turns in Hitty’s life, the winding ways through which she passes from one owner to the next that, when considered, are highly plausible. Toys are constantly being lost amid cushions, hidden in attics, dropped into the ocean, or mailed to the wrong addresses.

It’s actually these twists and turns that keep the book from becoming a series of vignettes and instead make it one cohesive whole. While Hitty stays with her first owner for a fair amount of time, we quickly learn that this petite doll (or any toy, really) in the hands of a small child is apt to be misplaced, and we are primed to expect her adventures. Each of these, from the whaling disaster to a jaunt in India to a stint in a lost-letters office, are both logical and amusing. Logical, because her path unfolds in a practical way; and amusing, because it pokes gentle fun at human beings and our inability to stay organized and keep track of our belongings. Through it all, while Field includes famous appearances and events, she keeps the focus on Hitty by giving us descriptions of her various outfits over the years (my favorite details) and the quirky locations where only a small doll could fit and in which Hitty often finds herself.

Creative scenes, a witty protagonist, historical information — these and much more await the curious reader upon opening this charming book. If you’re lucky enough to find an old copy, revel in the musty smell and think briefly about the countless other hands that have held it and the numbers of eyes that eagerly read those words. Settle back, and prepare to be swept away on a doll-sized tale spanning years and continents.