Hidden by the bushes, I removed my skirt, petticoat, stockings and shoes and quickly got into the stream gurgling in the shade of a tree. The cold clear water was like balm to the burning skin of my under parts. Sitting on the pebbly bottom of the stream I sighed with relief, thankful that in my haste to get into the water my legs had not been encumbered with lace-edged pantalets, a fashion recently taken up by the better bred ladies of society. Females of a lower class never wore such hindrances as they were most inconvenient for women who had to work. My mind was made up when working at the hotel that I would never ensnare my thighs in such garments as I liked to feel cool air between my legs.
Hastily splashing some water on my face, I reluctantly climbed the embankment before the good lady on the road came looking for me. Quickly drying myself with my petticoat, I dressed and rejoined the picnic party feeling much better and more at ease below the waist.
After formally introducing myself, I learnt that they were Mr. and Mrs. Garnet and that their children, whose ages ranged from five years to nine, were named Bella, Emily and Alice. Bella, the eldest, was a very pretty child with long curly chestnut hair. She took it upon herself to wait on me, supplying my plate with portions of meat pie, pickles and fruit cake. I was very hungry having partaken of no food since the previous evening and made short work of disposing of the delicious food placed in front of me.
During the course of our conversation, I learnt that Mr. James Garnet was practising as a lawyer in Cleveland, and that they would be very happy to make a place for me on the wagon for the return journey to town. Mrs. Sarah Garnet's plump, good-natured face showed much concern when she learnt that I intended to travel alone all the way to Chicago and she wasn't reassured on learning that I journeyed alone all the way from Liverpool in England.
On enquiring about hotels, she became very agitated saying, 'Such places are not for young ladies travelling alone. You will lodge with us while in Cleveland.'
When she turned to her husband for his agreement, he nodded, saying, 'You will be most welcome,' and added that there was no need to board the boat for Toledo on the morrow as they would be pleased to have me stay with them for as long as I wished. They were indeed a kindly couple, with three charming daughters, and I thanked providence that these good Samaritans had come to my assistance at a time when I was in great distress.
Tucked in a corner of the wagon with a blanket wrapped around me, I was sound asleep when the vehicle came to a halt outside their home in the centre of Cleveland, and, with Bella's arm to help me, I stumbled indoors.
Mrs. Garnet was much concerned at my condition and felt my forehead which was covered with sweat, exclaiming in alarm, 'My dear girl, you have got a fever. You must go straight to bed at once.'
When we got to the bedroom she wanted to assist me to undress, but I insisted on doing this myself despite my weakness, thinking she might see the bruises or some other ill-effects from the previous night's ordeal.
'Very well,' she said. 'Get into bed as soon as you are undressed and I will bring you a mixture to suppress the fever.'
I had only just got into bed when she was back again bearing a glass of her home-made medicine. When I enquired what it was, for I'm not the sort of person who drinks anything that is offered me, she smiled. 'My dear, it will do you no harm. It's for your fever; all my family swear by it. It's a mixture of orange, lemon, tamarind, nitre and cream of tartar. Drink it up you'll find the taste quite pleasant.'
As my throat had become very dry the liquid quenched my thirst and after a little while reduced the heat of my body. I was restless throughout the night, awaking frequently with a dry throat. Luckily, dear Mrs. Garnet had left a glass and a jug full of her mixture beside my bed. By morning my fever was much reduced, but on Mrs. Garnet's insistence I remained in bed and was allowed to join the family for two hours only in the evening.
The next day the fever had gone and my health was as normal, much to the relief of Mrs. Garnet and her family. The girls were delighted to see me out and about and, as the weather was warm and sunny, I spent much of my time during the next three days playing games with them in the garden. In this happy atmosphere my resolution to resume my journey to Chicago wavered somewhat but, on the other hand, I felt that it was not good manners to continue to take advantage of their kindly hospitality any longer and regretfully announced that I must board the boat to Toledo on the morrow.
Despite their pleading for me to stay longer, I was packed and ready the next morning for Mr. Garnet to escort me to the docks. On the way he pointed out various places of interest and informed me that Cleveland got its name from Moses Cleaveland, a surveyor for a Connecticut land company which bought the land. At a later date the early settlers dropped an 'A' from the spelling of his name.
On arrival at the boat, he told me to seek out in Toledo a Mr. Arthur Selwyn, a carrier of good repute, who would take me on his wagon overland from Toledo to Chicago.
Now, fully restored to good health, my aches and pains gone, I made myself comfortable and prepared to enjoy my voyage on the waters of Lake Erie.
We had just cast off when a furious uproar started up from the dock-side. Going to the rail to see what it was all about, I beheld two men struggling at the dock's edge restraining, it seemed, an old man from jumping into the water. The man they held had a wizened, wrinkled face, weathered and tanned a dark brown from a lifetime of working out of doors. His language was appalling and got worse when he saw the ship's Captain standing alongside me with an amused expression on his face.
'Stop the boat, you goddamned, pot-bellied son-of-a-bitch,' he yelled as he strained against the men holding him, cussing and swearing something awful.
The Captain, who indeed had a great swaggering belly spilling over his trouser belt, shouted, 'Now then, Tom Cuff, behave yourself and mind your language; we have a young lady here.'
As the ship got further from the dock he explained Cuff's peculiar behaviour. 'He is not a bad old codger. Unfortunately he has got a noisome sewer for a mouth,' he said almost apologetically. 'Some ten years or so ago his wife got sick when visiting relatives in Toledo and died before he could reach her. Every now and then when he has had too much to drink he re-lives those days and tries to board a boat to see his sick wife, long since dead. On the occasions that he does get aboard he sails to Toledo, then returns to Cleveland on the next boat with a haunted grim expression, dejected and drooping with the heaviness of his misery.'
I looked at the men still scuffling on the quayside and felt a deep sympathy for an old man who still carried an endearing love for the wife he lost over ten years ago.
Captain Houseman and I became very good friends on that voyage. He was a mine of information about Lake Erie and its neighbourhood. Inviting me to dine with him, he held me fascinated with tales of the early settlers. Learning that I was hoping to find in Chicago some people named Cubbin, from my island home, he told me that Chicago was named after an Indian called 'Checaqua' and that some of the best soap came from that town, manufactured by James Kirk who built his factory on the site of the first house ever built in Chicago. He went on to relate how early settlers floated inland on flatboards or barges down the Ohio River scrambling ashore when they came to unoccupied land and hacked a clearing in the forest to set up their first home in America. I listened to him for hours, learning a great deal about the Northern States and the people who lived there.
Disembarking at Toledo, I made haste to find Mr. Arthur Selwyn who I hoped would be able to take me overland to Chicago. After making a number of enquiries, I met up with his wife who informed me that he was not at home but would be back shortly. She was an agreeable, plump woman with a chubby rosy-apple face and, without asking, placed before me a plate of sliced beef and buttered bread. I was to discover that this kindly hospitality was customary in most American homes.
Having finished my meal, I was sipping at a glass of root beer when the clatter of a wagon was heard outside. It was Mr. Selwyn, a bluff and hearty man with a snuff-stained bulbous nose; he gave a fat smile of welcome to me and to a Mr. and Mrs. Smith who were also to join us on our journey to Chicago. Mr. Selwyn had been out and about collecting a variety of goods that people in the neighbourhood were dispatching to our destination and other places on route. The wagon was piled high with parcels large and small and I wondered how we were to be seated. But Mr. Selwyn, who knew the nature of the freight he was carrying, soon arranged it so that we could sit amongst it in comfort.
With a 'gid-ap' to his horse, Mr. Selwyn had just got started on our journey when a neatly dressed young man with a peaked cap carelessly pushed to the back of his head hailed us to stop and asked Mr. Selwyn if he could take him to Chicago. The freight was rearranged alongside me for our fourth passenger on the wagon.
Before climbing aboard, he swept off his cap and bowed to the company, introducing himself as Elmer Varley.
