Ocean to Ocean on Horseback

At first the prospects for the "inner man" looked rather doubtful, as I came up to the solitary State Line House, but a few moments' search brought me to the landlord, who was hoeing in a cornfield, and my wants were soon supplied. By five o'clock I was riding into the borough of North-East, where I found a number of people awaiting me. Upon dismounting, I learned that I was announced to lecture in the Town Hall that evening. This was a surprise, but I was ready to comply. The village band escorted me after supper to the hall, taking a position in front of the audience, and giving us "Hail Columbia" before, and "The Sword of Bunker Hill" after the lecture. The hall was so crowded that many were compelled to stand, and if hearty applause is an evidence of satisfaction, I may consider my effort to entertain the North-Easters a success. Captain Bronson Orton, a lawyer of the place, made the introduction, and I afterwards had a chat with him about experiences in Georgia, as he was with Sherman's army during its march from Atlanta to the Sea, and was quite familiar with many of its incidents. I too had followed the great strategist through that State, although in a very different capacity; it having been my lot to drop into the rear of his conquering legions during my escape from Southern prisons. The trying circumstances which I passed through, when I evaded the guard at Sylvania, the cautious tramps by day, and vigilance by night, in the friendly swamps, came back after the intervening twelve years, with all the vividness of yesterday. I related my experiences with the negroes and, meeting with good old March Dasher, who led me rejoicing into the Federal camp.

None of the events of those exciting days escaped my memory, and the chance of talking them over, with one of the men who had been with Sherman, was a rare pleasure. In the course of our conversation, we touched upon Captain Orton's present home, which is in a very pretty corner of the "Keystone" State, and which apparently has reached the golden mean between business and pleasure. Its residence portion suggests ideal comfort, while its office-buildings and stores are built upon a substantial and convenient plan.

Fiftieth Day

Reed House,Erie, Pennsylvania,June Twenty-ninth.

Upon my arrival at Erie, I was pleasantly surprised to find a letter from Colonel F. H. Ellsworth, proposing to make me his guest at the Reed House during my stay in that city. I gladly availed myself of his kind invitation, and although my time there was necessarily short, I had, through the thoughtful interest of my host, every opportunity to see the city, and to hear something of its development.

Through Erie, Pennsylvania comes in contact with the great commercial interests of the Lakes, and although she only holds a small share of the valuable shore line, there is every advantage for reaping a large benefit. The harbor is most perfect, being protected by a strip of land known as "Presque Isle," and which, long before the persistent waves wore away its southern end, was connected with the mainland. Two lighthouses stand at its entrance, and guide the night traveller to one of the prettiest ports in this part of the country, while from the bluffs on which the town is built shine myriads of answering lights. The streets are wide and regular and lead to many handsome homes, which they say will bear comparison with the finest on the Lakes. Several parks relieve the monotony of brick and stone, and add to the sightliness of the place.

Besides her present importance as representative of her State on the great inland seas, Erie has had her share on the page of history since 1795; among her proudest annals being the departure from her port of Oliver Hazard Perry, who went in 1813 to meet the English in the splendid naval action which has made his name famous. There are many memorials of this engagement among the city's relics, which bring back the reality of those stirring times more forcibly perhaps than the volumes describing them.

Like Buffalo, Erie's leading enterprises are her iron works, where stoves, machinery and steam engines are made. Large quantities of coal and petroleum, the contributions from Pennsylvania, are sent here for shipment, and form a good share of the varied products which make their way through the large water channels to different parts of the United States. Her educational system is excellent and there are nearly half a hundred public schools, which offer quite good advantages to the children who help make her population of nearly twenty-five thousand. Erie undoubtedly has a bright future before her, which her rapid increase in population since 1870 predicts, and she may, in a measure, balance the power in the opposite corner of the State, where the "City of Brotherly Love" reigns supreme. Having seen so much of the place as time would allow, and heard its story from those who knew it best, I ended the day by lecturing at the Academy of Music, Hon. C. B. Curtis introducing.

Fifty-first Day

Farm House,Swanville, Pennsylvania,June Thirtieth.

Passed a very busy morning at Erie attending to business correspondence with advance agents, making notes, and with the assistance of Mr. Farrington brought my scrap-book up to date. I called also upon a few old acquaintances whom I had known in the East, and whose faces were a welcome surprise at this stage of my journey. The editor of the Erie Dispatch called after dinner and spent an hour with me in a general discussion of the incidents of my trip since leaving Boston, which had been, however, more pleasant than exciting. In this way the afternoon slipped by, and it was not until five o'clock that I found myself ready to leave Colonel Ellsworth's hospitable roof. Had I not been fully determined to make some headway before night, the cordial request of my host that I stay longer with him might have dissuaded me at the last from starting so late, but I resisted the inclination, and having bade good-bye to my newly-made friends put spurs to Paul, who soon carried me far beyond the city limits on the road to Swanville. I had long since learned that in a case of this kind, the charms of hospitality, like those of Circe, were fatal to the interests of him who heeded. Made the eight and a half miles to Swanville in fair time, and was soon settled for the night at the home of John Joseph Swan, an old resident and pioneer, after whom the hamlet is named.

Fifty-second Day

Farm House,Swanville, Pennsylvania,July First.

Was compelled to remain in this place two days on account of my lecture appointment for Girard, and was singularly fortunate in having cast my lot with the Swans, who were untiring in their efforts to make my stay agreeable. The head of the family was eighty-three years old and quite patriarchal in appearance. From him I learned something of their military record, which reaches over quite an extended period of our country's history, and which makes a noble background for the peace and comfort they now enjoy. Mr. Swan's father was a captain of militia in pioneer days, and his son Andrew was a lieutenant-colonel of cavalry during the late war. He was a participant himself in the war of 1812, and both he and his father were pensioners. In fact they have grown up with the country, having shared its trials and its triumphs. Mr. Swan was one of the earliest settlers in Erie County, and although more than half a century had passed since he had settled there, this veteran still remembered and vividly described the scenes and events of those stirring times. He saw the first steamer launched on the lake and said it was regarded as an evil omen by the Indians, who called it "The Devil's Canoe" and who ran frightened from the shore at its approach. His stories were most amusing, and their personal narration gave them a freshness which was untiring. While I was with these people, I had the pleasure of meeting Miss Eliza Swan, a talented daughter of the family, who had just returned from Paris, where she had been studying under Jules Le Fevre, the well-known painter. Among her better productions I was especially pleased with her portrait from life of an old man, for which she was awarded a medal by Peter Cooper.

Fifty-third Day

Central House,Girard, Pennsylvania,July Second.

Took a walk with Mr. Swan over his farm in the morning, looking at his stock and grain and quietly admiring the thrift and enterprise everywhere apparent. The comfort and refinement of these country homes had made a strong impression, and I became quite enthusiastic over the American farmer. My host took especial pleasure in showing me the changes which half a century had wrought upon his premises, and which certainly were surprising. It was difficult to realize that the fields which we were viewing had, within the memory of my companion, been transformed from a wilderness to cultivated acres. While strolling over the farm, the sky became clouded and by noon a torrent of rain deluged Swanville. Owing to this caprice of the elements, I was unable to leave until three o'clock in the afternoon. Made the six miles and a half between the two places in easy time. As I rode into town I was greeted by the Girard Brass Band, which, while it amused me, rather surprised Paul, who during our "triumphal procession" to the Central House did a little "dancing," greatly to the delight of the onlookers.

After lecturing at the Town Hall in the evening, where I was introduced by Jacob Bender, editor of the Cosmopolite, I was serenaded at my hotel by the indefatigable band, which certainly made me feel welcome. I was sorry that the limitations put upon my time by appointments ahead allowed me so small an opportunity to meet the people, and get a better idea of their occupations. I should have liked to visit the lumber and brick yards, which are the chief enterprise, but was obliged to content myself with only a "cursory glance," as our newspaper friends say. The soil of the region is almost entirely composed of clay, and is thus peculiarly adapted to the manufacture of brick.

Fifty-fourth Day

Fisk House,Ashtabula, Ohio,July Third.

A bright sun and clear blue sky gave promise of an exceedingly pleasant day, as I seated myself in the saddle at Girard at eight o'clock.

Before leaving I bade good-bye to Mr. Farrington, who had been with me from Boston, but who now found it necessary to return to his home at Elmira, New York, owing to business interests there. I regretted exceedingly his retirement, as he had rendered invaluable service in connection with my lectures, and had been a most genial and companionable fellow-traveller, whenever circumstances brought us together along the route.

I found the people everywhere engaged in preparations for the Centennial Fourth, which, as it was to be one of our greatest holidays, was to be celebrated with unusual enthusiasm. Owing to the excitement which prevailed, and to the fact that almost every man and woman was employed upon some active committee, I decided to waive my lecture at Ashtabula, and enter into the public demonstration. The Rev. Mr. Fisher, who had intended introducing me to my audience at this place, came to see me at the Fisk House soon after my arrival, and talked of the arrangements that were being made for the morrow. In the evening I called upon Rev. L. W. Day and had a chat with him about Ashtabula. The town is the capital of Ashtabula County, and lies at the mouth of a small river of the same name, in the midst of a good farming district. The principal products are wheat, maple sugar and those of the dairy. The chief interests of the town are its manufactures, which I understand are quite important.

As in all such towns, the population is varied. The combination of the farming and manufacturing elements gives a decidedly picturesque aspect.

Fifty-fifth Day

Farm House,Near Painesville, Ohio,July Fourth.

This day has been indeed the greatest holiday in the history of the United States. Such grand preparations and such lavish display have probably never been witnessed before on this continent, and although I chanced to be in a comparatively obscure corner of the Republic, I found the prevailing sentiment as deep as though I were in one of the great centres. I doubt if there was sleep for anyone during the preceding night, for the wildest excitement was manifested, and the dawn of the Centennial Fourth was presaged by the booming of cannon, the blowing of engine whistles, the ringing of bells and discharge of firearms of every conceivable calibre and description.

The townspeople were stirring at an early hour, and although I had found very little rest, I was in the saddle by nine o'clock. A thunder-shower overtook me about noon, thanks to the generous use of gunpowder, and I took shelter under a tree, from whence I was invited to dinner by Daniel Flower, a neighboring farmer. With him and his family I passed a comfortable hour, and then moved forward in the direction of Painesville.

Toward evening I reined up in front of an inviting-looking house – a feature which the traveller soon learns to observe – and asked one of the farm hands if Mr. Lee was at home. Before the man had time to answer, a young girl came running down the path toward the gate, saying, "Are you Captain Glazier?" I acknowledged that I was that humble person, whereupon Miss Lee asked me to dismount and "come right in," while Jack would take care of the horse. Her father and mother had gone to Cleveland in the morning, to celebrate the Fourth, and were expected back the same night. The little lady insisted upon my stopping overnight, and bustled about with all the importance of a housewife in preparing supper. I naturally felt some hesitation in accepting her invitation to remain all night, but she insisted that I be her guest, and made every effort to amuse me. After tea, I was ushered into the parlor, where my hostess soon joined me, saying that I was her "very first caller" and that she was going to entertain me "the best she knew how." Suiting the action to the word, she took her place at the piano, and began to play some national airs suitable to the occasion; but as the evening slipped away I began to feel the effects of the day's ride, and begged to be allowed to retire. This, however, the young lady seemed at first disinclined to do, asking me to wait for her father and mother, but finally I insisted as gently as possible; so she showed me to my room herself, wishing me a hearty good-night. Dawn was ushered in by the rattling of milk pans and the creaking of a pump under my window, so, knowing that further rest was out of the question, I dressed and went downstairs, where I met Mr. and Mrs. Lee. I found them very kindly people, and knew that their daughter had inherited from them her share of good nature. That odd little miss was up at the first cock-crow, and was waiting to bid me good-morning. As I was about to mount Paul after breakfast, she asked the privilege of a ride on him, and, bounding into the saddle, galloped down the road with the grace of an Indian. When she bade me good-bye at the gate, where her father and mother were standing to see me off, she asked me in her unsophisticated way to remember her as my "Centennial girl," which I solemnly promised to do, and as I looked back from the road I could see her waving her handkerchief as a parting salute.

Fifty-sixth Day

Farm House,Near Wickliffe, Ohio,July Fifth.

Starting rather late from Painesville, a town just beyond Mr. Lee's, and riding leisurely during the day, I found it necessary to keep to the road until dark, in order to place myself as near to Cleveland as possible, before halting. Reached Willoughby, the seat of a Methodist College, nineteen miles east of Cleveland, just before sundown, where I was tempted to stay over night, knowing that to ride farther would be gloomy and uninteresting, but in my eagerness to reach the "Forest City," towards which I had looked for several days, I pressed forward.

As there was no hotel at Wickliffe, I passed through the little hamlet of that name and secured lodgings at the farm house of Thomas Lloyd, an old settler of Lake County, and a very large land-owner. He told me the history of his pioneer life in this section of Ohio, and of his start in the pursuit of a fortune, which gave me a bit of the early history of Ohio from another standpoint. It may seem odd that during the "flying visits" which I sometimes paid to these small places, there was opportunity to hear anything about them, but country folk are accustomed to early rising, and as I learned the art, years ago, of waking with the birds, I very often joined my host, and had a chat with him before breakfast. The settlement near which I stayed overnight is six miles west of Willoughby, which brought me within thirteen miles of Cleveland. It boasts of nothing more than the necessary blacksmith shop and "store," and "looks up to" its big neighbor with due reverence. It lies in the fertile county of Lake, a northeastern corner of Ohio, measuring some two hundred and sixty square miles, of which a large portion is covered with forest, and whose surface is generally hilly or undulating.

CHAPTER XIII.

FIVE DAYS AT CLEVELAND

Found a good night's rest at the quiet farm-house of the Lloyds, on the night of the fifth, and after an early breakfast on the following morning called for my horse and started for Cleveland. On my way out, near Wickliffe, I overtook a troop of girls on their way to school. One of them, a bright-faced little maid, giving her name as Ettie Warren, and saying she was a granddaughter of Mr. Lloyd, asked me to accept a bouquet, which had no doubt been intended for her teacher. It was a mass of gay colors, which had been gathered from the home garden, and its huge proportions quite appalled me. However, I accepted it with mock gravity, and as she and her small companions kept beside me, I could overhear a whispered conversation of very secret import, which resolved itself into the question, "Do you like apples, mister?" I confessed my fondness for the fruit, and was soon the chagrined possessor of a pocketful of green ones, which this sunburned little daughter of Eve generously offered. Before riding into town I was obliged to consign these gifts to the roadside, but not without a certain guilty feeling, and sympathy for the cheated school ma'am.

Passed through the village of Mentor, a pleasant little place six miles from Cleveland, the home of Hon. J. A. Garfield, then an Ohio Congressman.

Noting much excitement as I approached Euclid, I dismounted to learn the cause, and found it was due to a rumor that General Custer and his entire command had been massacred by Indians. The source of this information made it appear reliable, and yet comparatively few were disposed to believe it. My long association with the General during the War of the Rebellion led me to take the thought of his death very much to heart, although I was yet unwilling to credit what I had heard. At the Forest City House, whither I had been escorted by a delegation of G. A. R. friends, the truth of the report was discussed, and the deepest regret manifested, should such a fate have befallen the brave cavalryman.

In the evening I lectured at Garrett's Hall, where Major E. M. Hessler introduced me. Later, in behalf of a number of citizens, the Major proposed a banquet in my honor, but this I felt justified in declining, owing to imperative duties in connection with my journey. The rest of my time here was passed in looking about the city, and in talking with some of the "Forest City" people, who are pardonably proud of their home on Lake Erie. This part of the State was a great hunting-ground for the Indians in former days, who came to make war on the bear and beaver. They started eastward in the autumn and paddled down the lake, entire villages at a time, to the mouth of the Cuyahoga River, on whose banks they piled their birch canoes and then scattered through the neighboring forests. Returning in the spring to a small cabin which had been built near their landing-place by the Northwestern Fur Company, they disposed of their spoils, and when their business with their white brothers was over, re-embarked for their summer homes on the Maumee and Sandusky.

When General Moses Cleveland came with a surveying party in 1796 to lay out the site of the chief city of the "Reserve" for the Connecticut Land Company, the cabin of the fur-traders was still standing, but was in too dilapidated a condition to be of use. Two more cabins were therefore raised, one for the party, and the other for Job Stiles, and his wife Tabitha, who was housekeeper. When the plans were finished the woman of the settlement found herself the possessor of one city lot, one ten-acre lot, and one one hundred-acre lot, a donation from the directors and stockholders of the company, made no doubt in consideration of her services, and from the fact that she was the first white woman to take up her abode on the new ground. Two more gifts of the valuable land were made, one to Nathaniel Doane, the company's blacksmith, who had kept their pack-mules shod, and the other to James Kingsbury and his wife, the first who emigrated independently to the Reserve. Within eighty years the worth of this property had increased surprisingly, but the first owners had long since ceased to care for worldly goods, and the land had been resold many times. Buildings that would have astonished those early folk had replaced their simple cabins, and thousands of strange feet were treading in their old haunts.

For several years, in fact until the opening of the Ohio Canal in 1834, the population of Cleveland increased very slowly. A year after the survey, the homes "under the hill" along the right bank of the Cuyahoga had to be removed to the ridge, for even at that time fever and ague began to trouble the settlers. This disagreeable malady, wittily personified as "Ague-agueshakershake," – the God of Lake Erie – was a continual bugbear and made yearly attacks upon the families. So widespread was the reputation it had gained that a stranger stopping at Buffalo, then a rival port, was told that if he went to Cleveland he "would not live over night." On the highlands the exposure was much less, and soon all the cabins were built there. Then they began to spread out along the ridge toward the east, in the direction of Euclid, following the line of the Euclid Road, which even then was a popular place on which to have a section and build. In 1801, the first well in Cleveland was dug on this thoroughfare, and was walled in with stones which the Indians had left from their wigwam fireplaces. Two years later Connecticut ceded her Western Reserve, which she had held under an old charter, to the General Government and the chief city transferred her allegiance to the new State of Ohio.

Gradually the settlement spread out into the surrounding country, where ambitious hamlets, having enjoyed their brief season of independence, ultimately cast their fortune with the larger city, and became a sharer in its triumphs. One of these, which had attained more importance than the rest, had started up on the opposite bank of the Cuyahoga, and assumed the bravado of a rival. Cleveland made several advances to her which were met with coolness, and at last both villages applied for charters; the one on the left bank receiving hers first and glorying in her new name of "Ohio City." Again Cleveland besought a conciliation and tried to persuade the independent little rival neighbor to change her name, and become one with her, but with ill success. As time wore on, however, population decreased on the left shore and increased on the right, and signs of union became apparent from the fact that "Ohio City" reached out to the southeast, while Cleveland met her half-way by extending toward the southwest. We are not sure how matters were arranged between the two rivals when the final step was taken, but at any rate it was a felicitous event, and now that the coveted neighbor has become the West Side, some Clevelanders find it difficult to determine which is the "better-half."

In those early days before the railroads reached her, this new Ohio town was obliged to look about for other means of transportation, and we hear of one of her pioneers establishing a boat yard in the woods a mile and a half from the lake. Here the engineer cut his timber and carried out his plan for the first boat built at Cleveland. The framework was raised in a clearing of the forest, from whence a rough road led to the water, and in this wild but convenient spot the schooner was finished, and ready to be introduced to the world as "The Pilot." The farmers of the surrounding country were invited to assist in the launching and accordingly came into town on the all-important day, with their oxen, to haul the craft down to the shore. The ceremony was greeted with resounding cheers, and Levi Johnson received his first congratulations from his fellow-townsmen. This was in 1814. He afterwards built a steamboat and gave it the name of one of his own characteristic traits, "Enterprise."