I remember, while living at Uncle John's, witnessing the wedding of his niece, Miss Leavenworth, to Columbus Delano. I sat upon the stair steps during the ceremony, the first of the kind I ever saw. I mention this because of my long acquaintance with Mr. Delano and his family. He became a great lawyer and filled many offices of high public trust, and is now (1895) living in vigorous health, eighty-six years old. I also remember very well Henry B. Curtis and his family. He married a sister of Mrs. Sherman of Mt. Vernon, and had a number of children. He was a brother of Colonel Samuel R. Curtis, distinguished in the Civil War, was an accomplished lawyer, a careful business man, and a gentleman in every sense of the word.

On the whole I regard my four years at Mount Vernon as well spent. I advanced in my studies so that I could translate Latin fairly well, I went through the primary studies, and obtained some comprehension of algebra, geometry and kindred studies. In the meantime the condition of our family had greatly changed and generally improved. My sister Amelia was happily married to Robert McComb, a merchant of Mansfield. My father's only sister was married to Judge Parker, of Mansfield, to which place my grandmother had followed her daughter, and my brother Charles had entered upon his career as a lawyer in the same town.

Uncle John had a family of small children growing up and I felt I was in the way. My mother was anxious for me to return home as all her boys were away. I wanted to go. Uncle John, however, expressed his desire for me to stay and enter Kenyon College, but I knew that Mrs. Sherman preferred that I should leave as she had her young children to care for. The result was my return to Lancaster at the age of twelve. Mrs. Sherman is now living at Washington, D. C., at the age of eighty-seven, with her son John. I shall always remember with sincere gratitude her care and forbearance manifested toward a rather wild and reckless boy at the disagreeable age of from eight to twelve years. Affection may make a mother bear with the torment of her own child at that age, but will rarely induce an equal leniency toward that of another.

My return to Lancaster was a happy event in my life. I renewed my old acquaintance with boys of my age, and was on intimate terms with Philemon Ewing, Charles Garaghty, Frederick Reese, W. P. Rice, W. Winthrop Sifford and others. My brother, William Tecumseh, was three years my senior, and he and his associates of his own age rather looked down upon their juniors. Still, I had a good deal of intercourse with him, mainly in the way of advice on his part. At that time he was a steady student, quiet in his manners and easily moved by sympathy or affection. I was regarded as a wild, reckless lad, eager in controversy and ready to fight. No one could then anticipate that he was to be a great warrior and I a plodding lawyer and politician. I fired my first gun over his shoulder. He took me with him to carry the game, mostly squirrels and pigeons. He was then destined to West Point, and was preparing for it. To me the future was all unknown.

I entered, with all the boys referred to and many others, the Academy of Mark and Matthew Howe, then well established, and of great reputation,—and deservedly so. The schoolrooms were large, and furnished with desks and chairs, an improvement upon the old benches with boards in front. The course of studies mapped out for me was much the same as I pursued at Mount Vernon, with a specialty of the first six books of Euclid, and of algebra. Latin was taught but little. From the first, arithmetic, algebra and surveying were my favorite studies, and in those I became proficient. We had an improvised theatre in which we acted plays and made speeches.

When I entered the school Matthew Howe was the regulator, teacher and dominie. He was the supreme autocrat, from whom there was no appeal. All the boys respected him, for he certainly was a good teacher, but they did not like his domineering way. I got along with him pretty well for some months, but one day after I had mastered my lessons I rested my head on my desk when I was sharply reproved by him. I said that I did not feel very well and had learned my lessons. He called me to the black-board and directed me to demonstrate some problem in my lesson of Euclid. I went, and, as I believed, had made the drawing and demonstrated the problem. He said I had not, that I had failed to refer to a corollary. I answered that he had not required this in previous lessons. Some discussion arose, when, with the ferule in his hand, he directed me to hold out mine. I did so, but as he struck my right hand, I hit him with all the force I could command with my left. This created great excitement in the school, all the students being present, my brother Tecumseh among them. It was said at the time that the boys were disposed to take sides with me, but I saw no signs of it. The result was that I was expelled from the school, but, by the intercession of my mother, and Mrs. Reese, after explanations, I was restored, and during my two years with Mr. Howe I had no other contention with him. He moved some years later to Iowa, where he established another academy, and lived a long and useful life. We had friendly correspondence with each other, but neither alluded to our skirmish over a corollary in Euclid.

The pupils had the usual disposition among boys to play tricks on each other. The academy was in a large square, the greater part of which was an orchard of apple trees. Mr. Howe lived on the corner of the square, some distance from the academy. The boys were forbidden to climb the trees to shake down the fruit, but were quite welcome to the fruit on the ground. One fall, when the apples were ripe, the boys conspired to play a trick upon some of the students and outsiders,—among them my brother Lampson, then on a visit home from Cincinnati,—who were easily persuaded to rob the orchard, none more willing than "Lamp." Those in the plot were to watch and prevent interference. When the time came we had detailed two or three boys in the academy to fire off muskets, well loaded with powder and nothing else, when the signal was given. Everything moved on according to programme. The boys detailed to shake down the apples were in the trees, when, all at once, the firing of musketry commenced. The boys dropped from the trees and scattered in every direction. Some of them were caught in the pea vines of Mr. Howe's garden, but most of them, with great labor, climbed over the high fence around the ground and dropped on the outside "with a thud," safe from powder! The dogs in the neighborhood lent their aid to the outcry, and everybody was convinced that ruffians had robbed Howe's orchard.

I suppose it will never occur that a generation of boys will not do these things. At seventy-two I know it was wrong. At thirteen I thought it was fun.

I now recall many pleasing memories of what occurred in the two years "at home" at that period when the life of a boy is beginning to open to the future. It is the period of greatest danger and highest hope. At that time, 1835 to 1837, everybody was prosperous. The development created by our system of canals had opened markets for our produce. The public national debt had been paid. The pet banks chartered after the destruction of the Bank of the United States started upon a wild scheme of inflation. A craze to purchase public land created an overflowing revenue. All causes combining created a deceptive prosperity that could end only in one way. All this was Greek to me. All I wanted, and the controlling wish of my life, was to help mother. She was always kind, loving and forbearing. No word of reproach ever fell from her lips to me. She was the same to all her children, but if there was any difference, or favor, it was for me. Even at that early age I had day dreams for the future, and mother was the central picture. If fortunes could be made by others why could I not make one! I wished I was a man. It began to appear to me that I could not wait to go through college. What were Latin and Greek to me, when they would delay me in making my fortune!

Near the close of 1836 I wrote to my brother Charles at Mansfield, asking him to get me employment. He discouraged me and said I should stick to my studies, but I insisted that I was strong and could make my own living. At this time Ohio had decided upon the improvement of the Muskingum River from Zanesville to Marietta, and the Board of Public Works had selected Colonel Samuel R. Curtis, a graduate of West Point, as chief engineer. He was a brother of Mr. Curtis, of Mount Vernon, and a friend of our family.

Charles had no difficulty in securing me employment as junior rodman if, at the age of fourteen, I could perform the duties requed,— which Colonel Curtis doubted. The work was not to commence until the spring, when I was to be given a trial. I worked hard that winter, for hard work, I thought, was the way to fortune. I studied the mode of leveling. I saw a man on the Hocking canal operate his instrument, take the rear sight from the level of the water in the canal, then by a succession of levels backwards and forwards carry his level to the objective point. Then the man was kind enough to show me how, by simple addition and subtraction, the result wanted could be obtained. I was well advanced in arithmetic and in mathematics generally, and was confident, even if I was hardly fourteen years old, that I could do the work of a junior rodman.

About the first of May, 1837, the day of deliverance came. I was to be my own master and make my own living! A fortune gilded with hope was before me. I was to go in the stage thirty-six miles to Zanesville, and thence by stage-route down the Muskingum River, twenty-eight miles to McConnelsville. When the stage arrived at my mother's house it was rather full, but there was still room enough for me. All the family, and my comrades, had gathered to see me off. My baggage, all new, was thrown into the boot, and I took my seat in the stage. My heart sank a little as the stage rolled over the hill and down the valley beyond, but the passengers wanted to know who I was, where I was going, and what I was going to do, and I think they got all the information they wanted, for why should I not tell them of my visions of hope, sometimes called plans! Oh! the golden dreams of childhood, the splendid anticipations of boyhood, the fields of conquest to be won, the fortunes to be made, all to vanish into thin air by the touch of reality.

I arrived at Zanesville long after dark, and very weary. I had never been in so large a town before. The hotel was full of people, but no one noticed me. I was hungry, but could only get the scraps left, as the supper hour was past. I was to leave in the morning at daylight without breakfast. I was shown into a small dark room, on the third floor, and was to be called in the morning. I did not like the place and was alone and in fear. I had more money than ever before. Might I not be robbed? I took the precaution to deposit my jack-knife on a chair within reach, to defend myself in case of attack! My fears were soon lost in sleep. In the morning I was aroused to take by place in the stage, but forgot my knife, my only weapon of defense, and it was lost to me forever. The bright morning revived my spirits. A hearty breakfast at Taylorsville revived all my hopes and plans.

I arrived at McConnelsville about noon and stopped at the only tavern in the place. I called at the headquarters of Colonel Curtis and introduced myself to him. He received me very kindly and introduced me to the office clerks, and to James M. Love, who, I was told, would take me within a week to the engineer corps, then running their levels at Beverly, sixteen miles away. I spent the week pleasantly with him, and was intimately associated with him during my service of two years. He subsequently studied law and practiced his profession at Coshocton. When the Mexican War was progressing he enlisted in one of the Ohio regiments, became a captain, and, I think, a major, and rendered good service. He subsequently migrated to Iowa and was appointed judge of the District Court of the United States for that state. This position he held for many years with distinction and honor. He died July 2, 1891.

When the time came for joining the corps Love proposed that we start in the morning for Beverly, but I insisted that, as it was only sixteen miles to Beverly, we could easily make the trip after dinner. I had never walked so far as sixteen miles in my life, but had walked or run three or four miles in an hour, and, by the rules of arithmetic, we could easily go sixteen miles in five or six hours. He yielded to my wishes, and, as our baggage had been sent by the stage, we started about one o'clock, light of heart and foot. When we had climbed the long hill south of McConnelsville, about a mile and a half, I was a little tired, and I asked how far we had gone; he said, "a mile and a half!" I began then to appreciate my folly in not starting in the morning. He said nothing, but kept at my slower pace, giving me a rest occasionally. It was sun-down when we were six miles from Beverly, and I was completely tired out. Still neither of us proposed to stop, as we could have done at a farmer's house on the roadside. We reached the town of Beverly about ten o'clock, weary and hungry. This tramp taught me a lesson I never forgot,—not to insist upon anything I knew nothing about. We found the corps the next day in camp in one large tent on the east bank of the Muskingum River.

I had another experience, equally unpleasant, during our first evening in camp. The members of our corps, five or six in number, had been invited by Mr. Lindsley to attend a party at his house near by. They accepted, and, as Love and I had no invitations, we were left on guard in the tent containing the instruments and supplies. When we were alone there came up suddenly a storm of wind and rain,—not uncommon along the valley,—which flattened the tent and flooded the ground on which it stood. We were thoroughly soaked and utterly helpless, and, for a time, in real danger. I remember my utter collapse at this new misfortune, but all we could do was to wait and hope for the return of the corps. I must confess that I quietly mingled my tears with the rain, but I did not tell this to the boys when they returned after the storm was over. No great damage was done. The tent was soon raised and secured in place. The next morning I was given a rod and instructed how to use it. I noticed that my associates did not have much confidence in my ability to perform the duties, and, especially the senior rodman, John Burwell. I followed instructions, however, and reported my rod correctly. After a day or two they gave me a book in which I was to enter the levels. In a very short time they were satisfied that I could perform my duties, and I was soon trusted to make up the record of levels, and the necessary additions and subtractions in my book.

This little corps was composed of men, some of whom afterwards became proficient as engineers, lawyers or preachers. Among them were John B. Straughn, Wright Coffinberry, John Scott, John Burwell, and James M. Love. The line of surveys were soon completed to Marietta, the locks and dams were located, estimates of cost were carefully made, the materials to be used were purchased and the excavations and embankments to be made were computed. My associates soon found that I could do the work assigned me, and in this way I won their respect and forbearance.

After the surveys were completed, the members of the corps were located at different places to take charge of the work. Mr. Coffinberry was assigned to Lowell, and I was attached to him as an assistant. John Scott, who had been at West Point, and, I think, was a graduate, was assigned to Beverly, where a dam, lock and a short canal were to be constructed. In the fall of 1837 he was dismissed, I think, for intemperance. I was detailed, not exactly to take his place, for which I was unfitted, but to look after some details, and to keep the headquarters advised of the progress of the work. It was soon found that I was able to measure embankments, excavations, stone and other materials. The result was that I was continued, at my early age, practically in charge of the work I have mentioned. All plans came from headquarters and I was carefully instructed from there what to do and how to do it. This was a great and useful experience for me, and it continued until the summer of 1839.

During most of that time I lived in the family of Mr. Paul Fearing, an old and respected citizen of Beverly, who had long been engaged in what was called the river trade. He transported the produce of the country, chiefly pork, apples, wheat, and corn, from the neighboring region on flats and scows down the Muskingum, Ohio and Mississippi to New Orleans, stopping at the riverside towns, selling his commodities and buying others. The boats were sold at New Orleans for lumber. The captain and crew, generally consisting of two men, would return by steamer with the proceeds of their traffic in sugar, molasses and other productions of the south. This was the early mode of traffic, but it had largely been broken up by steamboats, so that at the time I refer to, Mr. Fearing's occupation was gone; but he had a comfortable little fortune, and, with his wife and only daughter, lived in a neat cottage on the banks of the river at Beverly, where I became practically a member of his family.

The community at Beverly was a very intelligent one, composed mainly of settlers from Massachusetts on the Ohio Company's purchase. The valley of the Muskingum is exceedingly fertile, but it is comparatively narrow and confined by picturesque hills and ridges, broken by water courses. The settlements were mostly in the valley, for the hill lands were rough, covered by poor soil, and were occupied chiefly for grazing. The portion of the valley at Beverly, and south of it, was singularly fertile and pleasing, and very valuable. Its owners and occupants were mostly of New England birth and descent. Their productions had a ready market down the river, and in that age, before railroads, the valley had a great advantage in transportation and supplies over the interior parts of the state. The people were, as a rule, educated in good schools, and they had a college at Marietta and a female college at Zanesville. The proposed improvement of the Muskingum, they believed, would give them another advantage, by securing them water of a depth sufficient for boats in the dry seasons of the year, as well as during the "freshets," which they then had to depend upon, but which at best were not very reliable in their habits, as I found to my cost. This was to be corrected by the "improvement," which, in their delusive hope, was to give them cheap water transportation all the year around.

At that time railroads were in their infancy. They have since practically destroyed or crippled all internal navigation on inland rivers, reaching their iron arms over the United States, traversing north and south, east and west—a vast gridiron of roads, in value greater than the market value of all the land in the United States in 1837. Before the first railroad was built in Ohio the Muskingum improvement was completed, but it proved to be a bad investment. The canals of Ohio and this improvement were, perhaps, the necessary forerunner of the railroads to come, but the money expended on them was practically lost. And I believe that the experiment now being made by the United States in the improvement of the Ohio, Missouri and Mississippi Rivers will end in a like result on a grander scale. By the demolition of the forests which covered this great valley, the supply and distribution of the waters and rivers in this region will be so diminished at certain seasons as to render these water- ways worthless for navigation. Engineers may make dams that will hold water and locks that may lift a steamboat, but if the clearing away of forests prevents the usual fall of rain and causes its absorption into the earth, and if the dispersion of water by its use and waste in cities, are to continue, the dam will not be filled, and the lock will be like a stranded vessel, fit only as a quarry for cut stone, or for a railway arch over a street of asphalt in a growing city. Captain Fearing railed against the steamboats as many now inveigh against the railroads, but these two great agencies will divide the commerce of the world between them. The railroads will possess the land, the steamboats the ocean and the great fresh waters of the world. Possibly steamboats may be utilized on short stretches of rivers, but even on these they will have to compete with railroads having wide-reaching connections which they do not possess. The money expended to levee the Mississippi may be lost by the United States, but the planters will receive some benefit from it in the protection given to their crops. The steamboats in interior waters will be exchanged for iron whalebacks, and new forces of a new nature, as yet only partly developed, such a electricity, will contest with steam as a motive power.

During the period of my stay on the Muskingum improvements I had very excellent opportunities for study, of which I regret to say I did not avail myself as well as I might have done. Still, I occupied my leisure in reading novels, histories, and such books as I could readily get. Many books were sent to me from Lancaster. I purchased a number, and found some in Beverly which were kindly lent to me. I read most of the British classics, as they are called, the Spectator, Shakespeare, Byron, and Scott. I read all I could find of the history of America. I tried to brush up my Latin, but without much success. I had the frequent company of my associates on the corps, all of whom were bright, able men, several years in advance of me in age. We were frequently called to headquarters at McConnelsville, a trip usually made on horseback, and where we always had not only a cheerful, but a very instructive time. Colonel Curtis was highly esteemed by us all, and his treatment of me was kind and fatherly. He frequently complimented me upon my work, and when he came through Beverly he visited me.

Among the diversions at Beverly we had occasional debates. One of these was upon the dangerous subject of temperance, a topic not then much discussed, for drinking of something stronger than water was almost as universal as eating, and considered equally necessary. However, there sprang up about this time a movement in favor of temperance. It was thought best to discuss the subject at a public meeting, a school teacher and I taking the side of temperance, and two other young men opposing us. The meeting was well attended, largely by the men employed on the public work who habitually received a certain number of "jiggers" of whisky a day, at regular hours. Whisky, not being taxed, was worth from fifteen to twenty- five cents a gallon. It was not an expensive luxury, and was regarded by all the workingmen on the improvement as a necessity. At the end of the debate, which I do not remember to have been a very notable one, the audience decided that we had the best of the argument. The discussion created a great excitement. The workingmen took up the cry that the Cumberland Presbyterians, the prevailing sect there, and other Christians, were interfering with their habits and comforts, and when the young schoolmaster appeared the next day, they raised a shout and pursued him with sticks and stones. He escaped with difficulty across the river, thus getting out of the way. I heard of the trouble, but went up to the canal and made my usual measurements. Not a word was said to me and no unkindness shown. I understood afterwards that this was caused by a warning given them by the contractor, who, hearing of the assault upon the schoolmaster, told them that I was a part of the government and it would not do to attack me; that to disturb me would have a very bad effect upon them all. So, I was forgiven, and, indeed, I never had any controversy during my time there with anyone connected with the work, from John McCune, the contractor, to the humblest water carrier about the works.

Early in the winter of 1838, I think in November, I had made up my mind to go to Cincinnati on the usual leave after the close of the works. As an excuse, and to procure means of paying for the trip, I purchased, partly on credit, a barge and loaded it with barreled salt, apples and other commodities, intending before the freeze-up to avail myself of the usual rise in the river to float to the Ohio and thence to Cincinnati. All went smoothly, the boat was loaded and floated as far as Luke Shute, when the river was found to be too low to proceed. Consequently the boat was tied up and placed under the care of a man who slept aboard. We waited for the river to rise, but it did not come. Both the Muskingum and Ohio Rivers were very low that season and finally froze up before the freshet came. This closing of navigation created a great demand for salt in Cincinnati, as that article could not be obtained from the up-river country, and it advanced to a price that would have yielded me a little fortune had my boat not been among those thus detained. I undertook to carry some of the salt by flatboats, but they were frozen up. The packing season in Cincinnati was going forward and salt bore a high price, but I knew it would fall the moment the river opened. It was apparent that I would lose on the salt, but I still clung to my purpose to go down the river. Finally the freshet came, some time in January, I think, and then, with three men on the barge, I floated down the river, tying up at nights for safety, and stopping occasionally to sell apples to the Kentucky farmers, I arrived at last in Cincinnati and soon found that salt had greatly fallen in value, so I sold the salt, boat and cargo upon the best terms I could get. The result was a loss of about one hundred dollars. However, I had a very pleasant visit in Cincinnati with my brother Lampson, who was connected with the "Cincinnati Gazette." He was a member of the family of Mr. Charles Hammond, his daughter, and son-in-law Mr. L'Hommedieu. Mr. Hammond had been a warm friend of my father's and was certainly one of the ablest writers of his day and generation, as well as an accomplished lawyer. He was much pleased at my adventure and especially with my rough shoes and warm Kentucky jeans. He told me not to be discouraged, and flattered me with the statement that a young fellow who could, at fifteen years of age, do what I had done would make his way in the world.

At that time I saw Judge Burnett at his residence. He had been a colleague of my father on the supreme bench, and during all his manhood had been distinguished as a lawyer and a man of marked ability. He wore a long queue, preserved the habits of the gentleman of the old school, and was proud of being a Federalist. His book called "Burnett's Notes" is perhaps the most valuable collection of historical data pertaining to the early history of Ohio now extant.

At this time I visited what was called Powers' "Hell." My brother Lampson and I took the boatmen with us, and "Lamp," who was fond of playing practical jokes, and knew the place better than I did, took care to warn one of the roughest of my boatmen to seize hold of a bar which was before him, and which "Lamp" knew would be charged later with electricity, and to hold on to it for dear life. We heard a rumbling sound inside, and finally saw flashes resembling lightning, and we naturally seized on whatever was before us to await the opening of "Hell." After more sheet lightning the veil was drawn aside and there were before us representations of human beings in every attitude of agony. At the same moment the electric current was passed through certain bars before us, on one of which the boatman held a firm grip, but no sooner was he charged with electricity than his hair flew on end, he looked the picture of terror, shouted in a loud voice, "O, hell!" and broke for the door. Soon after we followed also, and that, to us, was the end of a scene that ought never to have been exhibited.

I returned to Beverly in a steamboat and soon settled all the bills of the salt speculation, but had to call upon Mr. McComb and my brother, Charles, for a small sum to make up the deficit. I repaid this sum later on, but Mr. McComb never failed, whenever I made a business proposition that seemed hazardous, to say, with a great haw-haw: "Well, John, that is one of your salt speculations."

The election in the fall of 1838 resulted in the choice of a Democratic governor and state legislature, which, according to the politics of the time, involved an entire change of state officials and employees. Mr. Wall became a member of the Board of Public Works, and was assigned, among other works, to the charge of the Muskingum improvement. In the course of a few months, I think about the last of June, 1839, Col. Curtis was removed, and Mr. Macaboy was appointed superintendent in his place. At first it was uncertain whether changes would be made in the subordinates of the corps. Some of its members had become so much attached to Col. Curtis that they thought it right and proper to send him a letter expressing in substance their regret at his removal, their high estimate of his services, and thanks for his kindness to them. This was signed by Mr. Coffinberry, Mr. Burwell, Mr. Love and myself. I am not certain that the others did not express the same friendly feelings, but, at all events, the four whose names I have mentioned were summarily dropped from the service.

Thus, after two years of faithful work with small pay, I was, at the age of sixteen, turned adrift on account of politics.

I find among my papers, dingy with age, the correspondence with Col. Curtis, and also the subsequent correspondence between Mr. Wall and myself, in respect to my removal. My letter to Mr. Wall was a disclaimer of any intention of disrespect to him in our letter to Col. Curtis, and his reply was that we alleged that Col. Curtis was removed without a cause, which he denied. I have no doubt, from a present reading of the papers, but that he would have retained me as a juvenile offender if I had made a suitable apology, but the instinct of a boy to stand up for his party was strong. I was a Whig of sixteen, and it was glorious to be a victim of persecution.

I also find among my papers of that time, which I thought worthy of preservation, a multitude of essays on as many different subjects, and some efforts at poetry, all of which I consign to flames. Most boys have had the same experience. The only benefit I derived was the habit I formed of writing upon such subjects as attracted my attention by reading, a habit I continued when studying law, in preparing a case for trial, and in preparation for a debate in Congress.

I returned at once to Lancaster. The great financial depression, commencing in 1837, was now at its height. It was said that Ohio State six per cent. bonds had been sold at fifty cents on the dollar. Many banks were embarrassed and refused to discount notes, while several failed, and their circulating notes became worthless. I found that Lancaster had especially suffered, that many of its leading business firms had suspended or were on the brink of failure. I was then in excellent health, tall and slender and willing to work. I received temporary employment from Dr. Kreider, who was either Clerk of the Court or Recorder of Deeds, I do not remember which. He gave me a dollar and a half a day, which I regarded as a great favor, but the records were soon made up and I had nothing to do.

It was at this period of my life that I fell into very bad habits. Many of the boys about my age who were with me in Howe's school were still about Lancaster, and were out of employment like myself. We would meet on the street, or at the post office, or some place of resort, to talk over old times, and got into the habit of drinking poor wine, mostly made of diluted whiskey and drugs. The general habit of drinking spirits was more common than now, but I had not been subject to this temptation, as Col. Curtis was very strict in prohibiting all such drinking. With the jolly good fellows I met at Lancaster who had nothing to do, I could not refuse to join in drinking the health of each other, and thus I was conscious frequently of being more or less intoxicated. On one occasion, in the fall of 1839, I went home very sick from drinking. My mother received me with much surprise and sorrow, but neither complained nor scolded, and, with the utmost kindness, put me to bed and watched over and cared for me. I was not stupid enough to be unconscious of my degradation and her affection, and then and there resolved never to be in such a condition again, and from that time to this I am not conscious of having been under the influence of liquor. I have partaken of wine and spirits at weddings, feasts and dinners, I have used it as a medicine, and in response to toasts and compliments, but never to an extent to addle my brain or disturb my walk.

At that time intemperance was a common vice. Of the young men who were my contemporaries a very large proportion became habitual drunkards and died prematurely. No reform in my time has been so general and beneficial as that of the disuse of drinking intoxicating liquors, commencing in 1841. Formerly liquors were put on the sideboard or table, and the invitation "take a drink" was as common then as "take a seat" is now. This method of treating was shared in by preachers of the Gospel, and by all who observed the courtesies of social life. Now these conditions have greatly changed. Whisky is banished to the drug store, the grocery and the saloon, and even there it is under surveillance and so highly taxed as to furnish a large proportion of the national revenue.

Some time in the autumn of 1839 I visited Mansfield for the first time, on some business for General Reese, and it was then arranged that early in the next spring I should return to study law with my brother Charles. Mansfield was then a very unattractive village, badly located on parallel ridges and valleys, but precisely in the center of the very large county of Richland, then containing 900 square miles. The county covered a part of the high table-land that separated the waters of Lake Erie and the Ohio River. It was an almost unbroken forest during the War of 1812, with a few families living in log houses, protected by block houses of logs from the incursions of Indians, many of whom lived in the county. After the war it was rapidly settled, chiefly from Pennsylvania, and divided into farms of 160 acres or less, according to the new congressional plan of townships six miles square, sections one mile square, and subdivisions of forty, eight, and one hundred and sixty acres. The topography of the country was high and rolling, from 900 to 1,350 feet above the sea, with innumerable springs of the purest water, and small streams and creeks, all rising in the county and flowing north or south into the Muskingum or Sandusky rivers. The timber was oak, sugar, elm, hickory and other deciduous trees. This valuable timber was the chief obstruction to the farmers. It had to be deadened or cut away to open up a clearing for the cabin and the field. The labor of two or three generations was required to convert it into the picturesque, beautiful and healthy region it now is.

The village of Mansfield has been converted into a flourishing city of more than 15,000 inhabitants, with extensive manufacturing establishments and a network of railroads reaching out to Cleveland, Chicago, Pittsburg, Columbus, Cincinnati and Indianapolis. There was no sign of this development when I first visited the place.

On my return to Lancaster I applied myself closely to study and reading, mainly of history. I read Hume, Smollett and Miller's histories of England, Gibbon's "Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire," and such histories of the United States as I could procure. It was at this time that the memorable "Log Cabin and Hard Cider Campaign" of 1840 commenced. General Harrison had been nominated in December, 1839, at Harrisburg, by the Whig party. He was a distinguished general in the War of 1812, but had lived mainly a quiet, modest life on his farm at South Bend, near Cincinnati. The Democratic papers ridiculed him as a feeble old man, living in a cabin and drinking hard cider. The Whigs turned these sarcasms with great effect upon their adversaries. They compared the old soldier and his excellent war record, living in a cabin with the latch string out and eating corn bread, with "Matty Van, the used up man," living in a palace, with roast beef every day, eating from silver plate, with gold spoons, and drawing a salary of $25,000 a year. This was no doubt demagoguism, but there was back of it the great questions of protection to American industries, sound and stable currency, and the necessity of economy in public expenditures. A great meeting was held in Columbus in February, 1840. In the procession were log cabins, filled with farmers and hauled by a number of horses and oxen, and hard cider was on tap for all who chose to drink. Songs were improvised, especially by Greiner, the poet of the canvass. One of these songs, with the refrain, "The Log Cabin Candidate will March to Washington," became famous and prophetic.

Some time in March, 1840, taking the stage for Mansfield, I saw signs of political excitement all along the way, even at that early period of the canvass. My sister Susan, two years younger than I, was with me. We met with no adventure worthy of notice until we arrived at our destination, when, in ascending the hill to the public square, the coach slipped and fell over on its side. This we considered a bad omen. It was not, however, an unusual accident, as the roads were always bad in March, and the coaches of the day not worthy of the name. We were heartily welcomed into the family of Robert McComb, who had married my sister, Amelia.

I was to study law, but under the laws of Ohio I could not be admitted to practice until I arrived at the age of twenty-one years. Our liberal laws presumed that a man of ordinary capacity could master this profession in two years. What was I to do during the two spare years? This question was left to the decision of my uncle, Judge Parker, husband of my father's only sister. He was a peculiar character, and, as I will have occasion to refer to him again, I will give of him a brief biography. He was born in Nova Scotia. His father was a merchant of some wealth who early decided that his son should be educated in Ohio, and chose for him the college at Athens. There young Parker not only received his collegiate diploma, but became thoroughly attached to western habits and opinions. He studied law with my father at Lancaster, and, when admitted to the bar, went to Mansfield, where he practiced law. He was genial, social, and especially fond of the society of young people. I have often seen him stop on the streets of Mansfield to watch boys playing marbles. He was conceded to be an able lawyer, perhaps the best land lawyer and special pleader in that part of Ohio. But he was not an advocate, partly owing to occasional stuttering, but in jury cases employed my father until the latter became a judge of the Supreme Court.

Mr. Parker had for some years before 1840 retired from active practice, and was engaged with Robert McComb as a general merchant. During, or about 1842, he was elected by the legislature of Ohio presiding judge of the Court of Common Pleas, and became eminently popular, and deservedly so. He was to be my guide and counselor.

A few words in regard to my brother, Charles Taylor, will explain our relations, the confidence he reposed in me, and my deep obligations to him. He was then a bachelor thirty years old, with quite a lucrative practice, mainly in collecting debts due to New York and other eastern merchants. Our banking system was then as bad as it could be, exchange on New York was always at a premium, and there was no confidence in our local banks. Charles was substantially the banker in Mansfield and surrounding counties for eastern merchants. He was a good speaker when he addressed a judge, and his briefs were clear statements of the law of the case, but when forced to speak to a jury he was exceedingly shy and sensitive. He avoided jury trials. He was a fair speaker on popular topics, and took great interest in current politics as a Whig. He was a member of the Harrisburg convention that nominated General Harrison for President, and made several creditable speeches in that canvass. He was married in the fall of 1840 to Miss Elizabeth Williams, of Dayton, Ohio, and I became a member of his family soon after.

The influence of the special traits and tendencies of Judge Parker and my brother Charles upon my life was soon manifest. My course of study, outlined by Judge Parker, commenced with Blackstone, followed soon after by Coke on Littleton. As a compromise I was allowed to read Kent's Commentaries, but Chitty's Pleadings had to go along with Kent. The disinclination of Charles to have anything to do with contested litigation became more marked, and I was compelled, long before my admission to the bar, to look after such cases as grew out of his practice. The pleadings then in vogue were the declarations, pleas and replications of the English common law. These I prepared after I had been a student for a year, and, in cases within the jurisdiction of a justice of the peace, I habitually appeared either in prosecution or defense.

As a matter of course, I was often outwitted and defeated, much to my chagrin. In one case submitted to arbitration, a pettifogger of bad repute by the name of Baldwin secured an award palpably unjust. I felt more keenly than my client the injustice done him, and never forgave Baldwin until he was indicted for perjury and driven out of the county in disgrace.

While pursuing my studies, I was able in various ways to make enough money to support myself. I wrote deeds and agreements, and drew the first map of Richland county, showing subdivisions in farms, the course of creeks and rivulets, and roads. I was also employed to collect small debts, and, toward the close of my probation, I was intrusted with large collections, one of which was in closing the business of an old firm with outstanding credits of more than $20,000.

In those days of primitive barter the merchant was the banker of all the farmers dealing with him. The farmer sold to the merchant most of his surplus products, including live stock and pork, and purchased his supplies, mainly of clothing, tea, coffee, and the like, and the merchant made advances on the growing crop. At the close of the year the account was settled, generally with a balance in favor of the merchant. Little money was used. It was a traffic in commodities. It was not unusual for the merchant to drive horses and cattle to Pittsburg or further east, and send the proceeds to the eastern merchant.

In the fall of the year it was quite common for the farmer to load upon his wagon his surplus wheat and haul it fifty miles to Sandusky and Milan, receiving in return salt and farming implements, and the balance in money. Wheat was then the only article that would command cash. At this season the highway was often blocked with long trains of wagons that would not give way for other vehicles. At night the wagons would be parked on the roadside near a creek, and the farmers and their boys would have a regular joyous picnic on provisions brought from home. This was the life of a farmer before the days of railroads, and I am not sure but it was a more happy one than now. Then the village blacksmith or shoemaker, the tinker, the carpenter and the mechanic of every trade had his shop and was a far more important and independent citizen than now, when grouped into large manufacturing and machine works.

While a student, I was frequently sent by my brother to Wooster, the nearest bank, with large sums of money to purchase exchange on New York for his clients. These trips I always made on horseback. Once, as I was to start quite early in the morning, I received nearly $2,000 in bills the night before, in two packages, and placed them in my overcoat. In the morning I threw my overcoat over my arm and went for my horse. Before mounting I felt for the money and found it was gone. I started in alarm for the house and on my way found one package of $1,000 lying on the sidewalk at the corner of the street where I had passed, but the other was nowhere to be seen. I felt sure it was picked up by some one. I at once gave notice to my brother, and he took immediate measures to trace the finder. I cannot express the chagrin and anxiety which I suffered on account of my carelessness, but Charles uttered no reproach, but prepared to replace the loss. Fortunately within a month the lost money was traced to an "early drunkard," who found the package on the pavement while going for his morning grog. He was watched and at night was seen to take some money from his trunk. A search warrant soon led to the restoration of the money, except a small sum he had spent. This incident attached me the more to my brother.

The social life in Mansfield, while I was a student, was very pleasant and instructive. The freedom, and yet propriety of intercourse among the young people, was notable. We had social meetings, parties, dances, and an occasional ball during the winter, but in summer, riding in carriages and on horseback was the recreation of the day. Fleming's Ravine, about five miles from Mansfield, was the general gathering place for young and old. A small stream had cut a deep ravine with rocky banks on either side. An old mill with its overshot wheel spanned the ravine and filled it with noisy rattle. The adjacent woods, where the fire was lit and the coffee made, and the farm lands stretching beyond, made a picturesque scene often described and always admired. Here we had dances, frolics, speeches and fun, with healthy exercise in the open air. These frolics were often made the subject of description in the newspapers. On a notable occasion of one of these visits to Fleming's Ravine, Mr. Franklin Barker, a law student, wrote for one of the local papers a pleasing description of the scene under the name of "The Fairy's Tale." He paraphrased Byron as follows:

"There was a sound of revelry by day And Richland's capital gathered then Her beauty and her chivalry and fair eyes Looked love to eyes that spoke again."

Many of the persons present were named, or so described as to be recognized. There was a good deal of egotism and assumption in the narrative which created much feeling among those who had not the good fortune to attend. Though I was present, and greatly enjoyed the picnic, I thought it was a good opportunity to prick the bubble of self esteem assumed by Barker, and wrote for the rival newspaper a counter description signed "A Looker On." This excited a good deal of interest at the time, but it has probably faded, after half a century, from the memory of the few who survive; it then created a rivalry and left its mark upon the future. The destruction of the mill by a flood, the cutting away of the wood and other causes, have changed this, so that the gathering place of the young of my day is a thing of the past.

During my study of law, the bar at Mansfield was considered a very able one, including among its members James Stewart, Thomas W. Bartley, Jacob Brinkerhoff, Charles Sherman and others. All of those named became judges, either of the courts of Ohio or of the United States. During the same period there were also many law students in the offices of these gentlemen, among them Samuel J. Kirkwood, George W. Geddes, Thomas H. Ford, Henry C. Hedges, Willard Slocum, Joseph Newman, Patrick Hull and others, who afterwards became distinguished in civil or military life. These students, myself among the number, organized a moot court, presided over by Joseph Newman, then in active practice as a partner of Mr. Stewart. We held famous moot courts in which cases were tried with all the earnestness, industry and skill that could have been evoked by real cases. In these trials Mr. Kirkwood and I were usually pitted against each other, although he studied late in life, and was then more than thirty years old. He was then a Democrat, but moved to Iowa in 1856, became a Republican war governor of that state and United States Senator. I have always regarded our contests in this moot court as the most important part of my legal training.

The course of study pursued under the direction of Judge Parker continued until my admission to the bar, though much interrupted by the variety and nature of my employment. I read, in addition to the routine works prescribed by Judge Parker, a great variety of literary and historical works, and had substantially practiced my profession a year or more in advance of my admission to the bar.

I arrived at the age of twenty-one on the 10th day of May, 1844, and promptly on time on that day I was presented to the Supreme Court "on the circuit," then sitting at Springfield, Ohio, for admission to the bar. Several other students were presented, and, according to the custom of that time, we were all referred to a committee composed of General Samson Mason, Hon. Charles Anthony, and one other lawyer whose name I do not recall. All were leading lawyers of that place, and had been busily occupied in the court. We met that evening at the office of one of these gentlemen to pass the ordeal for which we had been preparing for years. A few questions were put to us which were answered, when some question was asked, the answer to which led to a decided difference of opinion among the examiners, and a practical suspension of our examination. It soon occurred to them that they were more interested in the cases coming on "to-morrow" than in our efficiency as incipient lawyers. I was asked under whom I studied. I answered Judge Parker, and they all agreed that anyone who was certified by him ought to be admitted.

My old and dearest friend, and boon companion, Dr. J. C. Buckingham, of Springfield, was then entering upon his profession. He was an admirable penman. He obtained leave of the clerk of the court, to write out my certificate of admission as a member of the bar, and this he did in beautiful form, handsomely illustrated. He attached to it an enormous seal, and it was duly signed by the clerk of the court. I have kept it as a memento of him, but have never had occasion to present it to anyone. He, poor fellow, died prematurely at Springfield, when in the full employment of his duties as a physician, and with the most hopeful prospects of success in his profession.

I must not forget that in my boyhood days I had a strong penchant for military parade. I remember well the respect always shown to Revolutionary veterans, who survived to the period of my boyhood. At every meeting, political or otherwise, where these soldiers appeared to share in the assemblage of citizens, they were received with profound respect. Hats came off. They were given the best seats, and every mark of honor was shown them. What boy did not feel the gushings of patriotic emotion when one of these old veterans appeared upon the stage. To a less degree, similar marks of respect were shown to the soldiers of the War of 1812; but, though this was as great and important an event in our history, it did not light the spark of patriotic fire like the Revolutionary War.

Before the war for the Union broke out, military spirit died away, especially in Ohio. Military organizations had fallen into disuse and popular contempt. We had, it is true, in times far apart, what were called militia musters, but Jack Falstaff's regiment was nothing to our militia. I had the honor to be a member of the staff of Colonel Urie, of Ashland, when the venerable General Wilson was the Commander-in-Chief of the militia of that part of Ohio. He was a hero of the War of 1812, and, as I remember, a gallant and fine-looking old gentleman. The regiment—so called—without guns, uniform, or anything proper for a soldier, was with some difficulty formed into line, but a wavering line, across the public square at Mansfield and along East and West Market streets, when, by some misunderstanding of orders, the right of the regiment marched to the right, and the left to the left. With some difficulty, and a good deal of swearing, they were brought back into line and dismissed. Militia day was a day of drunkenness and fighting. No wonder that years passed without muster. Such was the military condition of the United States when the War of the Rebellion sounded the tocsin of alarm, and our generation was called upon to meet the gravest struggle in American history.

CHAPTER III. OHIO, ITS HISTORY AND RESOURCES. Occupation by the Indians—Washington's Expedition to the Head of the Ohio River—Commencement of the History of the State—Topography, Characteristics, etc., in 1787—Arrival of the First Pioneers—The Treaty of Greenville—Census of 1802 Showed a Population of 45,028 Persons—Occupation of the "Connecticut Reserve"—Era of Internal Improvement—Value of Manufactures in 1890—Vast Resources of the Buckeye State—Love of the "Ohio Man" for His Native State.

The life of a man is greatly influenced by the place of his birth, the surroundings of his boyhood, and the habits and customs of the community in which he lived. As I have been all my life a resident of Ohio, and for more than forty years have been one of its representatives in Congress, or the Cabinet, I feel that a brief sketch of the history and resources of the state may not be out of place in this biography. No adequate history of the state has been written, though many works have given general outlines. The materials are copious, but I can only state a few events that mark the changes in its civilization. That it was once occupied by a race now entirely extinct is evidenced by numerous mounds, earthworks and lines of fortifications so extensive as to have required to construct them a dense population with a knowledge of mathematics far beyond that of any tribe or race existing on the American continent, when discovered by Columbus. The works of the mound builders can be seen, and have been described, but no ray of light has been cast upon, or plausible suggestion made to account for, the origin, existence or disappearance of this race.

Long after the settlement on the Atlantic Coast of the Thirteen Colonies, the territory now included in the State of Ohio was part of a vast unknown region north and west of the Ohio River. It was roamed over by numerous tribes of Indians living in tents of bark or skins, whose residence was generally as transitory as that of the wandering tribes of Arabia. Many of these Indian tribes were composed of a few families under the domination of a chief who went out from his kindred as Abraham did, and planted his tents where fancy led him, and moved at his whim or with his game. Every one of the Indian tribes that had been driven by the white man from the east and the south chose his camping and hunting grounds in the region of the O-hi-o, often driving away a weaker tribe. Their contests with white men had given them some knowledge of fire-arms, and some of them had been marshaled under arms in the wars between the English and the French, but, as a rule, the Indians encountered by our race since the landing at Jamestown were all of the same type of wandering savages. The difference between these tribes can be accounted for by their location, whether on the seashore or in the forest or plain, and by the strength of the tribe, from the powerful Six Nations to the feeble band in possession of some chosen valley.

Whatever may be said of the irrepressible conflicts between the white man and the Indians, waged often with savage and relentless cruelties on both sides, it may as truly be said that the same savage conflicts have been carried on between the different tribes of Indians, which often ended by the extermination of the weaker tribe, or the absorption of the feeble remnant with the stronger tribe. This was certainly the case with the Indian tribes of the northwest territory. Ohio was the battleground for destructive warfare between the Indian tribes long before the white man gained a foothold on its soil.

In 1755, when the war with France commenced, the English settlements covered the Atlantic Coast, but did not extend across the Alleghany Mountains, though a few hardy pioneers may have wandered into the wilderness beyond. But French missionaries, inspired with religious zeal, had penetrated all the northwest territory, including the great lakes. In 1673 Marquette and Joliet, two of these missionaries, after years spent with the Indians on the shores of the lakes, winning their confidence by humility and care, followed the lines of the Fox and Wisconsin Rivers from the shores of Lake Michigan, and discovered the great river "with a joy that could not be expressed," and floated upon its waters to the mouth of the Arkansas.

It is impossible to read the interesting narratives of these missionaries, of their life among the Indians of the northwest, and their enthusiastic description of the new and wonderful land they had discovered, without a feeling of admiration and reverence. The adventures and trials of these zealous priests read like romance; but their description of natural scenes, of great rivers, mountains and plains, now familiar to fifteen million of people, attest the accuracy of their statements and the courage and zeal with which they pursued their task.

The discovery of Marquette was diligently followed by Chevalier de la Salle, a knight of fortune, of wonderful endurance, who, after overcoming incredible difficulties, conducted an expedition by the way of the lakes and the Mississippi River to its mouth. Thus the King of France, by the piety and zeal of a priest and the courage of an adventurer, was able to base his claims to fully half the continent of North America upon grounds recognized as valid by European law, namely, the discovery of the St. Lawrence, the occupation of Canada, and the discovery of the Mississippi from its source to its mouth. The great body of the continent is drained by these two rivers. Their discovery and occupation was sufficient at that time to give to France the right of exclusive possession of that vast territory, for the title of the Indian tribes was not considered valid by Christian powers. While the priests of France were seeking to save the souls of the Indians, the Kings of France were seeking to rob them of their property.

The French, during this period, erected a line of posts from the mouth of the Mississippi, by way of the Wabash, Maumee and the lakes, to Montreal, and finally, in 1733, established a line of posts from Lake Erie to the junction of the Monongahela and Alleghany Rivers, where Pittsburg now stands, and claimed the whole country north of the Ohio from its source to its mouth.

And here, for the first time, comes into view the majestic form of George Washington, then a young man of twenty-two. He was sent by Governor Dinwiddie, of Virginia, to visit the several Indian tribes at the head of the Ohio River and the French forces at Venango. In the dead of winter he made his trip into the wilderness, and soon ascertained that it was the fixed purpose of the French authorities to occupy all the country to the sources of the Ohio, including a large section of what is now a part of Pennsylvania and New York. The commander, St. Pierre, declared his purpose of seizing every Englishman within the Ohio valley. The result of the expedition of Washington left no choice to the English government, except to abandon their claim to the northwest territory, or to declare war. The English title was based upon their occupation of the shores of the Atlantic coast from Massachusetts to Georgia. It was claimed that this occupation carried the right to possession westward from sea to sea.

In the earliest grants to the colonies, especially to Virginia and Connecticut, their western boundaries extended to the South Sea. Where the South Sea lay, and what was the breadth of the continent, was not defined by these kingly grants. James I and his councilors then knew but little about America. There was no way to settle this disputed title between the two powers but by war. A Virginia company had built a fort on the south side of the Ohio, below the site of the present city of Pittsburg. In 1754 the French troops occupied the point at the junction of the Monongahela and Alleghany, where the city of Pittsburg now is, and erected a fort.

Then followed the well-known war of the French and English, Braddock's defeat, the heroism of Washington, the capture of Quebec and the cession of Canada and the northwestern territory to Great Britain. It is impossible to overrate the importance of these events upon the future of America. The result was that the region east of the Mississippi River and north of the Ohio River was the property of Great Britain and the inheritance of the English race. The great northwest was theirs, and fairly won.

The extinction of the French title to the Ohio territory was at once followed by the claims of several colonies to parts of this territory under grants from the British crown; but the English government declared all the land west of the sources of the Atlantic rivers as under the dominion of the king for the use of the Indians, and all persons were forbidden to settle or remain within it. This dispute was postponed by the War of the Revolution. An event during the war, apparently of small importance, had a controlling influence in securing to the United States the northwestern territory.

The State of Virginia, claiming title under a grant from the British crown to the regions west of the Alleghanies, in 1778, organized an expedition, under Colonel George Rogers Clark, to punish and repel incursions of Indians, and capture the old French posts then held by the English. This he accomplished, so that when negotiations for peace were entered upon in 1782 our plenipotentiaries could maintain the title of the United States to the northwestern territory, not only by grants to the English colonies, but by conquest in war, and actual possession at the time of the negotiations. The British insisted on making the Ohio River a boundary of the United States. Mr. Adams said that sooner than yield the western territory he would exhort his countrymen to continue the war as long as they could keep a soldier in the field. Mr. Jay was equally determined, and finally the line of the lakes was agreed to.

The treaty of peace recognized the St. Lawrence, the lakes and the 49th parallel of latitude as the dividing line between the United States and Canada. But the question arose whether the western territory was the property of the United States as the result of their joint struggle for independence, or of the several states under the grants of the English crown. This dangerous controversy delayed the formation of the federal government; but it was happily settled by the cession of the territory to the United States, with or without conditions and reservations, by the several states claiming western lands.

As a part of this cession and settlement, and almost equal in importance to the constitution of the United States, was the celebrated ordinance organizing the northwestern territory. This ordinance guaranteed the subdivision of the territory into states, and secured to them, by a perpetual compact, the forms and substance of a republican government, a proper disposition of the public lands, and the formal prohibition of slavery in the territories, and may be properly considered the commencement of the history of the State of Ohio.

We may here pause to consider the condition, topography and characteristics of the Territory, now the State, of Ohio in 1787, when the first territorial government was organized by Congress. It was bounded on the south and east by the Ohio River, touching on its northeast border the States of Pennsylvania and New York; on the north by Lake Erie, and on the west by an arbitrary line not then defined, and contained about 40,000 square miles. Its topography may be described as an elevated plain, its highest elevation being 1,540 feet above the sea, its lowest depression being 440 feet above the sea, and its mean altitude about 800 feet above the sea. It is traversed by the comb of a watershed between the river and the lakes, running from northeast to southwest across the state, much nearer the lake than the river, at an elevation above the sea of from 1,000 to 1,300 feet. The shed on either side is penetrated by rivers of clear, pure water, in valleys of great fertility, and usually with hillsides of a gentle slope and fertile soil.

In 1787 it was an unbroken wilderness covered with great forests and sparsely inhabited by savage tribes of Indians, only here and there tempered by the civilizing teachings of the missionary. One of the earliest descriptions I find of the famous Miami Valley is as follows:

"The land beyond the Scioto, except the first twenty miles, is rich and level, bearing walnut trees of huge size, the maple, the wild cherry and the ash; full of little streams and rivulets; variegated by beautiful natural prairies, covered with wild rye, blue grass and white clover. Turkeys abounded, and deer and elks, and most sorts of game; of buffaloes, thirty or forty were frequently seen feeding in one meadow. Nothing is wanting but cultivation to make this a most delightful country."

This favored land was thrown open for settlement at a time when the people of the states had been impoverished by the war, when there was neither money, credit nor commerce, when the government of the Continental Congress had fallen into contempt, and the new government was passing the ordeal of a vote in states jealous of each other. It was the only land subject to sale by the United States, for Kentucky was covered by Virginia grants, Western New York was the property of land companies, and all beyond was a terra incognita. There was a struggle for Ohio land among all the northern states, including Virginia and Maryland. Companies were formed, composed mostly of officers and soldiers of the Revolutionary War, to secure from Congress favorable land grants. Virginia and Connecticut had their ample reserves, New York had a large unoccupied region in her territory, and the other northern states demanded their shares in the common property of the United States. The result was that all the states established settlements in Ohio, and, for the first time in our history, the descendants of the Puritans of New England, the Dutch of New York, the Germans and Scotch-Irish of Pennsylvania, the Jersey Blues, the Catholics of Maryland, the Cavaliers of Virginia and the loyal refugees of Canada united their blood and fortunes in establishing a purely American state on the soil of Ohio.

Among these early settlers were the foremost men of all the states, the Revolutionary stock that won independence, who carried their love of liberty and the principles and instincts of their localities to a soil more fertile than any of the old states, and with natural resources, climate and facilities for settlement and civilization as favorable as any within their reach. The limits of this sketch will not permit details of the progress of this migration. The first difficulty it encountered was the toilsome way to the promised land. All roads, such as they were, crossed the Alleghany Mountains, or followed the longer route by the lakes. A voyage now easily made in a day then occupied sixty days on foot or on horseback, and every article of civilized life had to be transported with painful labor over rude paths and roads, relieved sometimes by barges and canoes on creeks and rivers.

When the first pioneers reached their destination, their land was already occupied. Every part of Ohio was then in the possession of Indians. The war they had maintained with the pioneers of Kentucky only prepared them for the desperate struggle with new invaders. The first settlement of the New England colony was made in Marietta, April, 1788. From that day to the close of the war with Great Britain in 1815 there were hostilities in some part of Ohio with the Indians. There is not a county in Ohio that was not at some time the scene of a battle with the Indians, or a skirmish, or a massacre.

The interesting "Historical Collections," recently published by Henry Howe, give many details of this local warfare. But, aside from the danger that lurked at all times over the cabin of the pioneer, there were more regular battles with the Indians fought on the soil of Ohio than in any other state of the Union. The defeat of General Harmer with 1,300 men, in 1790, in two battles in the Scioto valley, laid open to predatory warfare all the settlements in Ohio, and some in Kentucky. Every attempt at negotiations was defeated by British interference.

In the following year, 1791, a force of over 2,000 men was organized at Cincinnati under General St. Clair, and marched against the Indians at the head waters of the Maumee. While encamped they were attacked by the Indians and ignominiously defeated, losing a large number of officers and men. They retreated in disorder, abandoning their baggage and artillery, and throwing away their arms and accoutrements. The loss in this disastrous campaign was more than 900 men, of whom 600 were killed. This calamity spread terror throughout all the settlements as far as Pittsburg, and arrested for a time the migration to Ohio.

The successive defeats of Harmer and St. Clair greatly impressed General Washington with the necessity of marching an overwhelming force against the Indians, and he appealed to Congress for the necessary aid; but there was a manifest reluctance in Congress to vote supplies, even if the failure to do so involved the abandonment to the Indians of all the territory northwest of the Ohio. The supplies, however, were granted, and General Wayne, a Revolutionary hero, was placed in command.

In August, 1794, with a force of over 3,000 men, he advanced to the confluence of the Maumee and the Auglaize, and there destroyed the Indian villages and their abundant crops.

Following the Indians down the Maumee to a fort recently built by the British, the forces of General Wayne attacked the Indians and inflicted upon them a disastrous defeat. This victory settled forever the occupancy of this territory by the white man, and the irreversible fate of the poor Indian, though, as it will appear hereafter, he struggled for this, his favorite region, for twenty years more.

In looking back over a period of one hundred years it is impossible to suppress a sense of injustice, and a feeling of sympathy for the Indian in his unequal struggle. After their defeat by General Wayne, a general conference of all the Indian tribes in the northwest was proposed, and agreed upon, to be held during the following year at Greenville. The full details of this conference are given by Judge Burnet, in his "Notes on the Northwestern Territory." General Wayne, in many "council fires," explained to the chiefs of the numerous tribes the terms of the treaties made at Forts McIntosh and Harmer, and demanded that they be ratified with additional concessions and grants. Many of the replies, in the figurative language of the Indians, are eloquent appeals to their "Great Father" and their "Elder Brothers" to allow them to possess in peace the land of their fathers; that they were not represented when these treaties were made, and that their terms had not been observed by their white brethren.

It was the same old story of injustice and wrong, of might against right. They were compelled to accept the terms offered them. The result was the cession by the Indians to the United States of 25,000 square miles of southern and eastern Ohio and many other tracts west of Ohio. The Indians were to receive in return $20,000 in presents, and an annuity of $9,500, to be distributed among the tribes. By this treaty confidence was restored to the settlements, and the tide of migration was renewed, and continued until the breaking out of the War of 1812. But the treaty of Greenville did not put an end to Indian hostilities. They still occupied northwestern Ohio, and that part of the reserve west of the Cuyahoga River. Occasional aggressions by both races led to outrages and murder, usually followed by encroachments on Indian territory. In 1805 the remainder of the Western Reserve was ceded by treaty. In 1818 the northwestern part of Ohio was purchased by the United States by treaty, subject to certain reservations, all of which were subsequently ceded to the United States, the last by the Wyandots in 1842, when the remnant, about 700 souls, moved to Kansas.

The most important, and by far the most dangerous, conspiracy of Indians since the treaty of Greenville was organized by the "Prophet," a crazy enthusiast denounced as an impostor and accused of witchcraft, and his brother, Tecumseh, a warrior of approved courage, possessed of all the craft of the Indian, with remarkable intelligence and comprehensive views. They united most of the tribes who had participated in that treaty, and threatened with death all the chiefs who were concerned in the subsequent treaties. This excited the attention of General Harrison, then Governor of the Territory of Indiana, who, in 1811, after many ineffectual conferences with Tecumseh and the "Prophet," organized a force of 800 men and marched against the "Prophet's" town, in what is now Cass county, Indiana. The battle of Tippecanoe ensued, in which the Indians were totally defeated and the town burned. The loss of the troops was so great that General Harrison made a speedy retreat. The war with Great Britain soon followed, and Tecumseh entered the British service. He participated in most of the battles in Ohio and Michigan during that war, and was killed at the battle of the Thames on the 5th of October, 1813. With him ended all organized Indian hostilities in Ohio.

Prior to 1798 all the laws governing the northwestern territory were selected from the laws of the states by the territorial judges appointed by the President. In that year it was ascertained that the territory contained 5,000 white male inhabitants, when they were authorized, as a matter of right, to organize and elect representatives to a general assembly, who, with a legislative council, were authorized to pass laws, subject to the veto of the governor. The general assembly was duly organized on the 16th of September, 1799, and was remarkable for the ability and distinction of its members, most of whom had been soldiers in the Revolutionary War. This was the beginning of home rule in Ohio. The life of the territorial legislature was brief. Early in January, 1802, a census was taken of the inhabitants in the eastern division of the Territory, now the State of Ohio, by which it was found that it contained 45,028 persons. Congress promptly authorized the people to form a constitution and state government. This authority was speedily acted upon, a convention of thirty-five members was elected, and a constitution adopted November, 1802, without being submitted to the people.

This constitution remained unaltered in a single particular for fifty years. It was regarded at the time, and ever since, as a model framework of state government, clear and brief in its provisions, but comprehensive enough to meet the necessities of a people growing in population from 45,000 to 1,980,329 in 1850. The present constitution of Ohio was framed by a convention, which met at Columbus, on the 6th of May, 1850, and adjourned on the 10th of March, 1851. This constitution was ratified by a majority of the people, and is still in force.

The decennial growth of the population of Ohio is here shown:

1802 . . . . 45,028 1810 . . . 230,760 1820 . . . . 381,295 1830 . . . 937,903 1840 . . . . 1,519,467 1850 . . . 1,980,329 1860 . . . . 2,339,511 1870 . . . 2,665,260 1880 . . . . 3,198,062 1890 . . . 3,672,316

In 1802 Ohio was eighteenth in rank among her sister states; in 1810 the thirteenth; in 1820 the fifth; in 1830 the fourth; in 1840 the third, and so continued until the recent census when the marvelous growth of Chicago placed Illinois in advance of Ohio. This remarkable growth was accompanied by rapid changes in the habits and conditions of the people. Within a century they had their struggle with the Indians; then their contest with nature in a new country covered by forests—the "age of the pioneers;" then the period of internal improvements, when roads and canals and means of transportation were the great objects of desire; then the marvelous development of railroads, followed by manufactures. These changes, following in succession, are the most striking features of the history of Ohio. I have already referred to the pioneers who planted the first settlement, who bore the brunt of Indian warfare, and firmly founded free institutions in Ohio.

After this period, and the organization of the state government, the great migration to Ohio commenced which, within a century, was destined to extend across the continent. The settler was generally poor, bringing all his earthly possessions, with wife and children, in a covered wagon, slowly traversing difficult roads to the new and only land, then open to settlement. But the land was cheap, the title clear, the soil good, and all were on the same footing, willing to help each other. The task before him was discouraging. He found his quarter-section in the unbroken forest, its boundary blazed on the trees by the surveyor, and all around him a wilderness. His first work was to erect a rough cabin of logs for a shelter; his next to clear an opening for a crop. Every new settler was a welcome neighbor, though miles away. The mail, the newspaper, the doctor and the preacher were long in coming. In this solitary contest with nature the settler had often to rely upon his gun for food, upon simple remedies for new and strange diseases, and upon the hope that his crop would be spared from destruction by wild beasts.

This was the life of the early settler in every county in Ohio, as each in its turn was organized and opened to settlement. A life so hard, was yet so attractive that many pioneers, when a few neighbors gathered around them, preferred to sell their clearings and push further into the wilderness. In the meantime the older settlements attracted newcomers. Mechanics and tradesmen came along them. Then towns sprang up, and incipient cities, with corner lots and hopeful speculators, tempted eastern capitalists to invest their money in Ohio.

Ohio, in these early days, was the only outlet of the population of the northern and middle states. Emigrants from the south, following lines of latitude, went into Kentucky and Tennessee. The great west, with its vast prairies and plains, was not then accessible. Had it been so, the forests of Ohio might have been left in solitude for many years to come. During all this period, which we may properly call the pioneer stage, the settlers had no market for their produce, except to supply the demand of incoming immigrants. Grain and fruit would not bear the expense of transportation. The only way to obtain ready money was to convert corn and grain into hogs, horses and cattle, which were driven on the hoof to Pittsburg and eastern cities. But little money circulated, and that was chiefly irredeemable bank notes. The clothing of the people was mainly of linsey-woolsey, home-made. The spinning wheel, big and little, was to be found in every household. Settlers near the banks of the Ohio River, and its tributaries, had the advantage of floating their surplus products in rough barges down the Ohio to New Orleans for a market, so that the southern part of the state advanced rapidly, while the northern part was still in the possession of the Indians.

When the Indian title was extinguished settlers came from Pennsylvania into the counties immediately west of it, which are still, in the habits of the people, in the location of houses and barns and the cultivation of the soil, the precise counterpart of the region from which the settlers came. The "Connecticut Reserve" was slowly filled by the northern route of the lakes, almost exclusively from New England, and the habits and customs of that region were transported to their new homes, so that the "Western Reserve" to- day is a striking type of old Connecticut in habits, and with the same ideas. The lakes became the highway of commerce, and the inhabitants of the interior carried their surplus grain and produce in long lines of wagons to the new towns along the lake shore, where it was exchanged for the necessaries of life and enough money to pay taxes. All trade in the interior was by barter with merchants, who became the bankers of the people.

The construction of the Erie Canal, and the introduction of steamboats on the rivers and lakes, was the beginning of a great revolution. Then followed in Ohio the era of internal improvement by the construction of two lines of canal across the state, one from Cleveland, on Lake Erie, to Portsmouth, on the Ohio River, and the other from Toledo, on Maumee Bay, to the city of Cincinnati, with the lateral canal to Pittsburg, and the improvement of the Muskingum River by locks and canals.

Salmon P. Chase, then a young attorney at Cincinnati, in his introduction to his compilation of the laws of the state, published in 1833, thus describes the effect of these improvements upon the prosperity of Ohio:

"They have afforded to the farmer of the interior an easy access to market, and have enhanced the value of his farm and his productions. They have facilitated intercourse between different sections of the state, and have thus tended to make the people more united, as well as more prosperous. They have furnished to the people a common object of generous interest and satisfaction. They have attracted a large accession of population and capital. And they have made the name and character of Ohio well-known throughout the civilized world, as a name and character of which her sons may be justly proud."

This period of prosperity continued for twenty years, when, in 1846, a still greater revolution was introduced by the building of railroads. The first object of this was to furnish cheaper transportation of the produce of the farmer to the Ohio River and Lake Erie. The first railroads were from the interior, north and south. They were little better than tramways, supported by cross- ties with longitudinal stringpieces covered with thin strips of iron. The carriages were propelled by feeble engines, and it was thought a matter of great importance when, by this new motive power, a bushel of wheat could be transported from the interior to distances of from fifty to a hundred miles for from six to ten cents. While a young attorney, I thought it a grievous injustice that my client, one of the new railroad companies, was compelled by a jury to pay $2,000 for the right-of-way over twenty miles of farm land. It was soon discovered that railroads were to be so successful that they would supersede for the transportation of persons and passengers all kinds of water transportation, and that lines running long distances east and west would have the benefit of the through travel and traffic. In rapid succession several lines of railroad were built from the eastern cities across the state to the northwest, west and southwest. Within twenty years from the first construction of railways they had almost superseded all former modes of communication, and had reduced the rates of travel and transportation to less than one-half the former rates.

After the close of the Civil War the construction of railroads rapidly increased, so that in 1890 the total miles of railway track in Ohio was 10,464, and the valuation for taxes was $102,950,642, a development in a single branch of industry far greater than in any other. This improvement led to the adoption of a system of free turnpikes in most of the counties in Ohio, constructed by local taxation, so that now Ohio is as well supplied with well- constructed turnpikes and railroads as any state in the Union, and perhaps, as well as many European states.

Another great change in the industry of the people of Ohio rapidly followed the construction of railroads. Manufacturing establishments of almost every kind were rapidly constructed, mostly since the war.

It appears by census, prior to 1890, that in 1850 the total value of manufactures of Ohio was $62,692,279; in 1860 it was $121,000,000; in 1870 it was $269,713,610; in 1880 it was $348,298,300. In 1890 it was over $500,000,000. During the single year 1889 there were incorporated over 400 new companies with a capital stock of $25,584,500. Almost every article needed for use by the people is thus produced at home, and great quantities of machinery, especially of farming machines of every variety, are exported to every state of the Union and to many foreign countries. The manufacturing industry has thus become second only to that of agriculture, and it is believed that, under the great impetus given by our protective laws, the time is not far distant when the value of manufactured products will be equal to, or greater than, the productions of the farm.

The most striking result of the change in the industries of Ohio is the rapid increase of city population, compared with farming population. The following table will show the population of twenty cities, by the censuses of 1850 and 1890:

1850. 1890. Akron . . . . . . . 3,266 27,601 Canton . . . . . . 2,603 26,189 Chillicothe . . . . 7,100 11,288 Cincinnati . . . . 115,435 296,908 Columbus . . . . . 17,882 88,150 Cleveland . . . . 17,034 261,353 Dayton . . . . . . 10,977 61,220 Findlay . . . . . 1,256 18,553 Hamilton . . . . . 3,210 17,565 Ironton . . . . . —— 10,939 Lima . . . . . . . 757 15,987 Mansfield . . . . 3,557 13,473 Newark . . . . . . 3,654 15,286 Portsmouth . . . . 4,011 12,394 Sandusky . . . . . 5,087 18,471 Springfield . . . 5,108 31,895 Steubenville . . . 6,140 13,394 Tiffin . . . . . . 2,718 10,801 Toledo . . . . . . 3,829 81,434 Zanesville . . . . 7,929 21,009 221,553 1,053,910

While the aggregate population of Ohio has increased 185 per cent. since 1850, that of the cities named has increased 475 per cent.

The growth of cities and manufactures has been accompanied by the discovery and development of a diversity of mineral resources of great and increasing value.

The mining of coal was insignificant in 1850, while the product of coal in 1890 is estimated at exceeding 12,000,000 tons.

Recently petroleum was discovered near Marietta and Lima, places in Ohio remote from each other, thus supplying a new element for commerce and a new agent for manufactures. Its properties and innumerable uses have already been tested in Pennsylvania. The annual supply by the census of 1890 was 12,471,466 barrels, second only to that of Pennsylvania, and has not yet reached its maximum.

About the same period came the discovery of natural gas at Findlay, in Hancock and surrounding counties. This subtle and mysterious creation of nature has been applied locally as fuel for manufacture, and as light and heat in many cities and towns. The duration of its supply, however, cannot be determined.

The lakes on the north and the river on the south secure to the people of Ohio cheap water transportation for the importation and exportation of raw materials and finished products, while the physical features of the country north and south of Ohio, in a measure, compelled the construction of the great routes of railway over its soil.

From the beginning Ohio has taken a leading part in furnishing facilities for education to the rising generation. In early days, when the population was sparse and scattered, day schools were established, by voluntary effort, in counties, towns and neighborhoods where the population was sufficient to justify it. At an early period the State of Ohio established the common-school system, by which every child between the ages of seven and fourteen years is furnished with the rudiments of a good education. Some of these schools have been so far advanced that in them any child showing proficiency can secure, without cost, an education fully equal to that furnished by the colleges of the country forty years ago. The amount expended in 1890 for the support of public schools was $11,407,499. The number of teachers employed was 19,526. The number of persons enrolled between the ages of six and twenty-one was 1,123,985. The number of scholars who attended was 797,439. The average attendance was 549,269. The excellence of the system of common schools in Ohio is admitted on all hands to be equal to that of any other state or section.

The charitable institutions of the state, including children's homes, are equal to the best in any country in the world.

The building of churches and places of public worship commenced with the first settlement in Ohio, and has kept pace fully with the growth of population. In every community, great or small, churches are open for the worship of the Almighty God. The broadest toleration is not only permitted, but favored, by a universal public sentiment. Every denomination of Christians who number enough to make a congregation can readily secure a house of worship, not only by gifts from its members, but by contributions made by other professing Christians. The same charity is extended to Jews and Gentiles professing any creed or having any form of worship.