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."

In 1816, although the itinerant preachers who had visited the place would scarcely have credited it, a church was organized and an Episcopalian form of worship established, which later grew into Trinity Church and Parish. Hitherto a bugle had called the people together when a clergyman appeared, and the most primitive services followed. On one of these occasions, well-known to those who lived in Cleveland when it was still a churchless community, Lorenzo Dow was announced to preach. He was an eccentric man and the place reputed to be a bad one. His congregation, who were waiting under a large oak, did not recognize the solitary figure approaching in his shirt sleeves, and, as he quietly sat upon the ground in their midst, and his head dropped upon his knees in silent prayer, one in the crowd enquired if he were Lorenzo Dow. Some one answered, "Yes," but another irreverently said in an undertone, "It's the devil." Dow overheard the remark, and rising, preached to his hearers such a sermon on Gehenna that they never forgot it, or him.

In 1821, the "Academy" became an institution, and began a course of instruction upon a very liberal basis, giving its pupils the full course for four dollars a term, and separate branches for much less.

In the year 1836 the city was incorporated, and with the new honor seems to have looked to the improvement of her appearance. The public square, which had previously been little more than a grazing-place for cows, was seriously considered as a possible ornament, and was graded and made more attractive, until now it bears little resemblance to the common on which the irrepressible Indian, "Omic," breathed his last. It has changed its name since then, and has become "Monumental Square," from the marble statue of Commodore Perry, which adorns its southeastern corner. A good view of the liveliest part of the city can be had from here, and from early morning until late at night there is a continuous stream of people passing through it.

Superior street, which forms its southern boundary, is lined with retail stores, and its fine buildings and neat pavements hardly suggest the indifferent houses and plank road of forty years ago. Ontario is another busy thoroughfare running north and south, and bisecting the square. Where it begins, at Lakeside Park, it is lined with private residences, but beyond the square it develops into a genuine work-a-day business street. In 1813 there was a small stockade on the lake shore just below it, for Cleveland was a depot for supplies, and was waiting to give a warm reception to the English. Most of the public buildings are on or near the square—the Post Office, Custom House, City Hall, and several of the churches. Not far away is the library of the Young Men's Literary Association, which has had a singularly favored career. Established in 1845 upon a very unpretentious basis in the Case Building, it was soon given a perpetual lease by the owner, and later received a large sum of money for its extension and support from a son of Mr. Case. The Public Library is located in the old High School Building on Euclid avenue and has 26,000 volumes in circulation. The Board of Trade is another of the city's time-honored institutions, having been founded in 1848. It is now in the Atwater Building on Superior street.

Euclid avenue, which from its rustic popularity in pioneer days, came to bear the proud distinction of being one of the handsomest streets in the world, stretches off eastward from the square, for four and a half miles, until it reaches Wade Park, a beautiful spot, still shaded by the groves and forests which have been left from the wilderness. It was a gift from Mr. Wade, one of Cleveland's millionaires.

From this point the avenue continues for a mile and a half until it finds its terminus in Lake View Cemetery, a magnificent stretch of woodland overlooking the lake from a height of two hundred and fifty feet.

The avenue is in its entire length a feast of beauty. The homes that line it on either side are fine specimens of architecture, and the gardens surrounding them show a lavish devotion to the sweet goddess Flora. Thousands of people who are unable to leave town during the summer find a grateful change of scene here, and it so impressed Bayard Taylor that he bestowed upon it the splendid praise of calling it the most beautiful street in the world. Nor is its charm purchased at the expense of squalid surroundings, for the streets of Cleveland are well kept and almost all of its homes have their little gardens around them, while the tenement house is "conspicuous by its absence." In fact the people have chosen rather to sacrifice a trifle more to time and expense and less to space. They have expanded and have built longer street-car lines in proportion.

The old eyesore of dilapidated huts and rubbish heaps along the river and lake shore was soon swept away after the railroads came, and a fine park substituted. The undertaking was a large one, but it proved to be well worth the labor and money expended upon it, and is now one of the city's chief adornments and one of her most delightful rendezvous.

The stranger, as he nears the "Forest City" wearied with his travels and sensitive to his surroundings, finds nothing to meet his curious gaze but a neat shore line on one side, and on the other the green slope of Lakeside Park, with its grottos and fountains, and an occasional suggestion of graveled walks. The top of the ridge is an excellent place whereon to take a morning stroll, and get a good breath of fresh air, and from this eminence the lines of the five railroads which centre here can be seen converging towards the Union Depot, where a large portion of the coal, petroleum and lumber is received that makes its way from distant points.

"The Flats" along the lake and river fronts are alive with business, and present a fascinating scene from some overlooking point. There are factories, ore docks and coal and lumber yards famous the country over, and water craft of every kind and size. One of the most important enterprises is that of the Cleveland Rolling Mill Company, whose buildings occupy thirty-two acres, and whose yearly pay-roll reaches more than $2,000,000. On the West Side is the Cuyahoga Steam Furnace Company, noted for having manufactured a patent horse-power cannon for the Government, and for having turned out the first locomotive in the West. The great Standard Oil Company, begun in the sixties and later developing into a stock company under its present name, is located here, and its cars, surmounted by the familiar white keg, are seen on almost all the railroads of the country.

Out from the river's mouth stretch two long piers, two hundred feet apart, which represent the final triumph of the engineer over the tides which have wrought such incessant mischief ever since a certain captain and his crew were delayed in the harbor of Cleveland sixty years ago by a sandbar. There is a lighthouse at the end of each pier, and one high up on the shore which was built by the Government in 1830 at a cost of $8,000.

Now, through this inviting gateway, large lake boats steam into port without hindrance, bringing with them the rich copper and iron ores of Lake Superior, the limestone of the Lake Erie Islands, and the miscellaneous products which they take up along their route. With these valuable cargoes, to which have been attributed much of her prosperity, Cleveland receives a large amount of coal from the mines of Ohio and Pennsylvania, having access to the latter through the Ohio Canal, which has been such an impetus to her growth.

On the other side of the river are her large Water Works, the incessant pumping of whose engines supplies this city of 140,000 inhabitants with water. The Reservoir lies upon the top of a cliff, and is a favorite resort in summer. From its crest a fine view of lake and river can be obtained, and if one were to allow his imagination a little freedom, this would be the most satisfactory place to get a retrospective view of Cleveland as it was to the pioneer. About here the Indians stayed unmolested long after they had sold their land to the white man, and across the river on the slope the first log cabin stood. The scene which takes its place is almost bewildering with its network of factories, lake and river craft and housetops. Here and there a dot of green rises above the buildings, betraying the presence of the elms and maples which have been jealously preserved and which are one of the characteristic beauties of the "Forest City."

During my stay here, nothing was more gratifying than a walk or ride through the broad streets in the shade of these trees. It made summer in the city something to stay for, and not something to run away from. There were many drives leading out beyond the limits daily frequented by pleasure-seekers, and inviting out-of-the-way places for those who were unable to go elsewhere. Beside these, the lake, though the shallowest in the chain and sometimes treacherous on that account, is a continual clarifier and beautiful to look upon. As for the old-time "God," and his attendant maladies, who tyrannized over the pioneer, they seem to have vanished, and now I venture to say there is no healthier city in the country than Cleveland and certainly none more attractive.