274 



Letter of R. L. Allen. 



Vol. All. 



with buildings, and those gigantic hills have 

 recently been attacked with a vigor that in- 

 dicates their speedy demolition. There is a 

 spirit characterizing many sections of our 

 country, that amuses while it challenges our 

 admiration. Fifty years ago, the ground now 

 occupied by Cincinnati was a wilderness. 

 Five years ago, Mount Adams, then remote 

 from the city, was solemnly dedicated to 

 science, and set apart as a permanent retreat 

 for the astronomers of the western hemis- 

 phere. A beautiful observatory crowns its 

 summit and brings the star gazers nearer 

 the object of their research. I climbed its 

 lofty heights, and judge of my surprise to 

 find a recent excavation of fifty feet, direct- 

 ly in front of this consecrated spot. The 

 foundations are already crumbling beneath 

 the blows of the sappers, and these are tem- 

 porarily sustained only by massive buttresses 

 of mason work. Streets are laid out, and 

 shops and shanties encircle it. What was 

 recently a wortliless and almost inaccessible 

 hill, yields a harvest of lots worth $40 per 

 front toot ! The dollar has encountered sci- 

 ence, and it needs no prophet to foretel the 

 issue of tlie contest; and like the Indians 

 and Mexicans, she must yield, and seek a 

 temporary retreat beyond the immediate 

 convenience of her antagonist. 



What a vision is opened from the summit 

 of this hill ! What profusion of nature and 

 art! A population of 100,000* lie at your 

 feet, in the possession of wealth, luxury, and 

 intelligence, far beyond the average enjoyed 

 by civilized nations. They are surrounded 

 by wealthy farmers, mechanics, merchants, 

 and professional men, whose homes reach 

 beyond the great northern lakes, beyond the 

 Mississippi, and to the very shores of the 

 Mexican gulf. And this whole region, but 

 half a century since, was an almost unbroken 

 wilderness. From the comparatively ancient 

 Fort Le Boeuf, boats may descend through 

 French Creek, from 1,000 miles above. 

 They can wheel on and ascend the Tennes- 

 see, 1,000 miles, through the midst of three 

 magnificent states; or they may coast along 

 the borders of two others, 1,000 miles more 

 by the Wabash. They may pass round into 

 the Mississippi, and penetrate nearly to its 

 source, 2,000 miles more; or turn into the 

 Illinois or Wisconsan, and reach nearly the 

 same distance. Returning, they may ascend 

 the Missouri, till the snow-clad heights of 

 the Rocky Mountains meet their view; and 

 farther down the Arkansas, the Red River, 

 the Washita, the Yazoo, and the innumer- 



♦This is about the population of Cincinnati and its 

 suburbs; and the thriving villages of Newport and 

 Covington on the opposite side of tlie river. 



able bayous below, afford an almoEt intermi- 

 nable line of water communication. And 

 through all these extended avenues, the re- 

 sources of the country, in its soil and miner- 

 als, its elements of wealth, and capacity for 

 ministering to the comfort and prosperity of 

 its inhabitants, are unsurpassed. 



Art asks you to observe her achievements. 

 She points out her thousands of buildings, 

 all well furnished with the objects for which 

 they were designed ; her numerous steam- 

 boats moored at her wharves; her miles of 

 manufactories stretched along the shore and 

 climbing the hills in her rear. There is the 

 Whitewater Canal, leading into Indiana; 

 here the Miami, reaching to Toledo on the 

 northern lakes. On the opposite side, the 

 railroad extending to Sandusky, and at a 

 lower point on the same waters, it is soon 

 destined to connect with Columbus and 

 Cleveland ; while another will ere long 

 reach the tide waters of the Atlantic. Fine 

 McAdam roads radiate to every important 

 point in the interior; and over all, from east, 

 north, south, and west, flashes the electric 

 telegraph, with intelligence from every quar- 

 ter of the globe. Such are the advantages, 

 and such the achievements of American free- 

 men, for a single half century. 



Although heretofore, and probably destined 

 for a long time to remain, an important ele- 

 ment in the prosperity of Cincinnati, there 

 is one feature which detracts much from the 

 interest that would otherwise attach to it. 

 It is the Porkopolis, not only of America, but 

 of the world. No other place on its surface, 

 ever witnessed the annual slaughter of so 

 many of the " swinish multitude," as is here 

 compressed vvithin the limits of a few weeks. 

 It is estimated that nearly 400,000 will yield 

 up their greasy lives at this place the pre- 

 sent year. It is the height of the packing 

 season, and the streets are filled with their 

 unwieldly forms, wending their weary steps 

 to their last home. The air is redolent of 

 their grunts and odors; and the tables groan 

 beneath their spare ribs, their joints, their 

 ihams, their head cheese, souse, sausages, 

 and sides. Every wagon you meet is load- 

 ed with them, piled up like ricks of hay ; 

 I and every warehouse is crammed with these 

 precious freights. I have seen piles of cof- 

 jfee and cotton, before at New Orleans and 

 elsewhere; but the piles of dressed swine 

 I here far exceed (relatively) anything of the 

 [kind I have ever witnessed. 

 I I called on our friend, and the friend of 

 ■agriculture, Mr. Neff, who has recently 

 [turned his attention to beef packing. This 

 jis now second only to that of pork in import- 

 lance. The introduction of the best breeds, 

 ,and especially the Short Horns, has largely 



