Here we are at Cleveland; and, "by the powers of Mercury"—this expletive originated, I believe, with a proud barometer,—it is raining cats and dogs and a host of inferior animals. Everybody seems very impatient, for all are getting out, and yet we have not reached the station,—no; and they don't mean to get there at present. Possession is nine points of the law, and another train is ensconced there. Wood, of course, is so dear in this country, and railroads give such low interest—varying from six to forty per cent.—that they can't afford to have sufficient shedding. Well, out we get. Touters from the hotels cry out lustily. We hear the name of the house to which we are bound, and prepare to follow. The touter carries a lantern of that ingenious size which helps to make the darkness more visible; two steps, and you are over the ankles in mud. "Show a light, boy." He turns round, and, placing his lantern close to the ground, you see at a glance the horrid truth revealed—you are in a perfect mud swamp; so, tuck up your trowsers, and wade away to the omnibuses, about a quarter of a mile off. Gracious me! there are two ladies, with their dresses hitched up like kilts, sliding and floundering through the slushy road. How miserable they must be, poor things! Not the least; they are both tittering and giggling merrily; they are accustomed to it, and habit is second nature. A man from the Old World of advanced civilization—in these matters of minor comforts, at least—will soon learn to conduct himself upon the principle, that where ignorance is bliss, wisdom becomes folly. Laughing, like love, is catching; so these two jolly ladies put me in a good humour, and I laughed my way to the 'bus half up to my knees in mud. After all, it made it lighter work than growling, and go I must; so thank you, ladies, for the cheering example.
Hot tea soon washes away from a thirsty and wearied soul the remembrance of muddy boots, and a good Havana soothes the wounded spirit. After enjoying both, I retired to rest, as I hoped, for we had to make an early start in the morning. Scarce was I in bed, ere the house rang again with laughing and romping just outside my door; black and white, old and young, male and female, all seemed chorusing together—feet clattered, passages echoed—it was a very Babel of noise and confusion. What strange beings we are! Not two hours before, I had said and felt that laughing was catching; now, although the merry chirp of youth mingled with it, I wished the whole party at the residence of an old gentleman whose name I care not to mention. May we not truly say of ourselves what the housemaid says of the missing article—"Really, sir, I don't know nothing at all about it?" A few hours before, I was joining in the laugh as I waded nearly knee-deep in mud, and now I was lying in a comfortable bed grinding my teeth at the same joyous sounds.
It took three messages to the proprietor, before order was restored and I was asleep. In the morning, I found that the cause of all the rumpus was a marriage that had taken place in the hotel; and the master and mistress being happy, the servants caught the joyous infection, and got the children to share it with them. I must not be understood to cast any reflections upon the happy pair, when I say that the marriage took place in the morning, and that the children were laughing at night, for remember, I never inquired into the parentage of the little ducks. On learning the truth, I was rejoiced to feel that they had not gone to the residence of the old gentleman before alluded to, and I made resolutions to restrain my temper in future. After a night's rest, with a cup of hot café au lait before you, how easy and pleasant good resolutions are.
Having finished a hasty breakfast, we tumbled into an omnibus, packed like herrings in a barrel, for our number was "Legion," and the omnibus was "Zoar." Off we went to the railway; such a mass of mud I never saw. Is it from this peculiarity that the city takes its name? This, however, does not prevent it from being a very thriving place, and destined, I believe, to be a town of considerable importance, as soon as the grain and mineral wealth of Michigan, Wisconsin, &c., get more fully developed, and when the new canal pours the commerce of Lake Superior into Lake Erie. Cleveland is situated on the slope of a hill commanding a beautiful and extensive view; the latter I was told, for as it rained incessantly, I had no opportunity of judging. Here we are at the station, i.e., two hundred yards off it, which we are allowed to walk, so as to damp ourselves pleasantly before we start. Places taken, in we get; we move a few hundred yards, and come to a stand-still, waiting for another train, which allows us the excitement of suspense for nearly an hour and a half, and then we really start for Cincinnati. The cars have the usual attractions formerly enumerated: grin and bear it is the order of the day; scenery is shrouded in mist, night closes in with her sable mantle, and about eleven we reach the hotel, where, by the blessing of a happy contrast, we soon forget the wretched day's work we have gone through.
Here we are in the "Queen City of the West," the rapid rise whereof is astounding. By a statistical work, I find that in 1800 it numbered only 750 inhabitants; in 1840, 46,338—1850, 115,438: these calculations merely include its corporate limits. If the suburbs be added, the population will reach 150,000: of which number only about 3000 are coloured. The Americans constitute 54 per cent.; Germans, 28; English, 16; other foreigners, 2 per cent. of the population. They have 102 schools, and 357 teachers, and 20,737 pupils are yearly instructed by these means. Of these schools 19 are free, instructing 12,240 pupils, not in mere writing and reading, but rising in the scale to "algebra, grammar, history, composition, declamation, music, drawing," &c. The annual cost of these schools is between 13,000l. and 14,000l. There is also a "Central School," where the higher branches of literature and science are taught to those who have time and talent; in short, a "Free College."
According to the ordinance for the North-Western territory of 1787, "religion, morality, and knowledge being necessary to good government and the happiness of mankind, schools and the means of education shall for ever be encouraged." Congress, in pursuance of this laudable object, "has reserved one thirty-sixth part of all public lands for the support of education in the States in which the lands lie; besides which, it has added endowments for numerous universities, &c." We have seen that the public schools in this city cost 13,500l., of which sum they receive from the State fund above alluded to 1500l., the remainder being raised by a direct tax upon the property of the city, and increased from time to time in proportion to the wants of the schools. One of the schools is for coloured children, and contains 360 pupils. There are 91 churches and 4 synagogues, and the population is thus classed—Jews, 3 per cent.; Roman Catholics, 35; Protestant, 62. The Press is represented by 12 daily and 20 weekly papers. From these statistics, dry though they may appear, one must confess that the means of education and religious instruction are provided for in a manner that reflects the highest credit on this "Queen City of the West."
It is chiefly owing to the untiring perseverance of Mr. Longworth, that they have partially succeeded in producing wine. As far as I could ascertain, they made about fifty thousand gallons a year. The wine is called "Catawba," from the grape, and is made both still and sparkling. Thanks to the kind hospitality of a friend, I was enabled to taste the best of each. I found the still wine rather thin and tart, but, as the weather was very cold, that need not affect the truth of my friend's assertion, that in summer it was a very pleasant beverage. The sparkling wine was much more palatable, and reminded me of a very superior kind of perry. They cannot afford to sell it on the spot under four shillings a bottle, and of course the hotels double that price immediately. I think there can be no doubt that a decided improvement must be made in it before it can become valuable enough to find its way into the European market; although I must confess that, as it is, I should be most happy to see it supplant the poisonous liquids called champagne which appear at our "suppers," and at many of our hotels.
The "Burnet House" is the principal hotel here, and afforded me every comfort I could have expected, not the least being the satisfaction I derived from the sight of the proprietor, who, in the spotless cleanliness of his person and his "dimity," and surrounded by hosts of his travelling inmates—myself among the number—stood forth in bold relief, like a snowball in a coal-hole.
But we must now visit the great lion of the place, whence the city obtains the sobriquet of "Porkopolis," i.e., the auto da fé of the unclean animal. We will stroll down and begin at the beginning; but first let me warn you, if your nerves are at all delicate, to pass this description over, for, though perfectly true, it is very horrid. "Poor piggy must die" is a very old saying; whence it came I cannot tell; but were it not for its great antiquity, Cincinnati might claim the honour. Let us however to the deadly work!
The post of slaughter is at the outskirts of the town, and as you approach it, the squeaking of endless droves proceeding to their doom fills the air, and in wet weather the muck they make is beyond description, as the roads and streets are carelessly made, and as carelessly left to fate. When we were within a couple of hundred yards of the slaughter-house, they were absolutely knee-deep, and, there being no trottoir, we were compelled to wait till an empty cart came by, when, for a small consideration, Jonathan ferried us through the mud-pond. Behind the house is the large pen in which the pigs are first gathered, and hence they are driven up an inclined plane into a small partition about twelve feet square, capable of containing from ten to fifteen pigs at once. In this inclosure stands the executioner, armed with a hammer,—something in shape like that used to break stones for the roads in England—his shirt-sleeves turned up, so that nothing may impede the free use of his brawny arms. The time arrived, down comes the hammer with deadly accuracy on the forehead of poor piggy, generally killing but sometimes only stunning him, in which case, as he awakes to consciousness in the scalding caldron, his struggles are frightful to look at, but happily very short. A trap-hatch opens at the side of this enclosure, through which the corpses are thrust into the sticking-room, whence the blood flows into tanks beneath, to be sold, together with the hoofs and hair, to the manufacturers of prussiate of potash and Prussian blue. Thence they are pushed down an inclined plane into a trough containing a thousand gallons of boiling water, and broad enough to take in piggy lengthways. By the time they have passed down this caldron, they are ready for scraping, for which purpose a large table is joined on to the lower end of the caldron, and on which they are artistically thrown. Five men stand in a row on each side of the table, armed with scrapers, and, as piggy passes down, he gets scraped cleaner and cleaner, till the last polishes him as smooth as a yearling baby. Having thus reached the lower end of the table, there are a quantity of hooks fitted to strong wooden arms, which revolve round a stout pillar, and which, in describing the circle, plumb the lower end of the table. On these piggy is hooked, and the operation of cutting open and cleansing is performed—at the rate of three a minute—by operators steeped in blood, and standing in an ocean of the same, despite the eternal buckets of water with which a host of boys keep deluging the floor. These operations finished, piggy is hung up on hooks to cool, and, when sufficiently so, he is removed thence to the other end of the building, ready for sending to the preparing-houses, whither he and his defunct brethren are convoyed in carts, open at the side, and containing about thirty pigs each.