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.