American Notes for General Circulation

In "American Notes" Dickens, an Englishman barely 30 years old, described his 1842 travels from the Northeast through the Midwest. He traveled primarily by steamboat.  Here is his brief description of Cincinnati.

Cincinnati is a beautiful city; cheerful, thriving, and animated.  I have not often seen a place that commends itself so favourably and pleasantly to a stranger at the first glance as this does: with its clean houses of red and white, its well-paved roads, and foot-ways of bright tile.  Nor does it become less prepossessing on a closer acquaintance.  The streets are broad and airy, the shops extremely good, the private residences remarkable for their elegance and neatness.  There is something of invention and fancy in the varying styles of these latter erections, which, after the dull company of the steamboat, is perfectly delightful, as conveying an assurance that there are such qualities still in existence.  The disposition to ornament these pretty villas and render them attractive, leads to the culture of trees and flowers, and the laying out of well-kept gardens, the sight of which, to those who walk along the streets, is inexpressibly refreshing and agreeable.  I was quite charmed with the appearance of the town, and its adjoining suburb of Mount Auburn: from which the city, lying in an amphitheatre of hills, forms a picture of remarkable beauty, and is seen to great advantage.

There happened to be a great Temperance Convention held here on the day after our arrival; and as the order of march brought the procession under the windows of the hotel in which we lodged, when they started in the morning, I had a good opportunity of seeing it.  It comprised several thousand men; the members of various ‘Washington Auxiliary Temperance Societies;’ and was marshalled by officers on horseback, who cantered briskly up and down the line, with scarves and ribbons of bright colours fluttering out behind them gaily.  There were bands of music too, and banners out of number: and it was a fresh, holiday-looking concourse altogether.

I was particularly pleased to see the Irishmen, who formed a distinct society among themselves, and mustered very strong with their green scarves; carrying their national Harp and their Portrait of Father Mathew, high above the people’s heads.  They looked as jolly and good-humoured as ever; and, working (here) the hardest for their living and doing any kind of sturdy labour that came in their way, were the most independent fellows there, I thought.

The banners were very well painted, and flaunted down the street famously.  There was the smiting of the rock, and the gushing forth of the waters; and there was a temperate man with ‘considerable of a hatchet’ (as the standard-bearer would probably have said), aiming a deadly blow at a serpent which was apparently about to spring upon him from the top of a barrel of spirits.  But the chief feature of this part of the show was a huge allegorical device, borne among the ship-carpenters, on one side whereof the steamboat Alcohol was represented bursting her boiler and exploding with a great crash, while upon the other, the good ship Temperance sailed away with a fair wind, to the heart’s content of the captain, crew, and passengers.

After going round the town, the procession repaired to a certain appointed place, where, as the printed programme set forth, it would be received by the children of the different free schools, ‘singing Temperance Songs.’  I was prevented from getting there, in time to hear these Little Warblers, or to report upon this novel kind of vocal entertainment: novel, at least, to me: but I found in a large open space, each society gathered round its own banners, and listening in silent attention to its own orator.  The speeches, judging from the little I could hear of them, were certainly adapted to the occasion, as having that degree of relationship to cold water which wet blankets may claim: but the main thing was the conduct and appearance of the audience throughout the day; and that was admirable and full of promise.

Cincinnati is honourably famous for its free schools, of which it has so many that no person’s child among its population can, by possibility, want the means of education, which are extended, upon an average, to four thousand pupils, annually.  I was only present in one of these establishments during the hours of instruction.  In the boys’ department, which was full of little urchins (varying in their ages, I should say, from six years old to ten or twelve), the master offered to institute an extemporary examination of the pupils in algebra; a proposal, which, as I was by no means confident of my ability to detect mistakes in that science, I declined with some alarm.  In the girls’ school, reading was proposed; and as I felt tolerably equal to that art, I expressed my willingness to hear a class.  Books were distributed accordingly, and some half-dozen girls relieved each other in reading paragraphs from English History.  But it seemed to be a dry compilation, infinitely above their powers; and when they had blundered through three or four dreary passages concerning the Treaty of Amiens, and other thrilling topics of the same nature (obviously without comprehending ten words), I expressed myself quite satisfied.  It is very possible that they only mounted to this exalted stave in the Ladder of Learning for the astonishment of a visitor; and that at other times they keep upon its lower rounds; but I should have been much better pleased and satisfied if I had heard them exercised in simpler lessons, which they understood.

As in every other place I visited, the judges here were gentlemen of high character and attainments.  I was in one of the courts for a few minutes, and found it like those to which I have already referred.  A nuisance cause was trying; there were not many spectators; and the witnesses, counsel, and jury, formed a sort of family circle, sufficiently jocose and snug.

The society with which I mingled, was intelligent, courteous, and agreeable.  The inhabitants of Cincinnati are proud of their city as one of the most interesting in America: and with good reason: for beautiful and thriving as it is now, and containing, as it does, a population of fifty thousand souls, but two-and-fifty years have passed away since the ground on which it stands (bought at that time for a few dollars) was a wild wood, and its citizens were but a handful of dwellers in scattered log huts upon the river’s shore.

Questions to Think About and Discuss

  1. Dickens describes Cincinnati’s topography as being an “amphitheatre,” but the hills rising above the riverfront, for example Mount Auburn, were not part of the city in 1842. From Mount Auburn, he says, the city “forms a picture of remarkable beauty, and is seen to great advantage.” Do you think that is still the case? Why or why not?
  2. Temperance was one of the most important reform movements in the United States, and the Washingtonians were a total abstinence society founded in Baltimore, Maryland in 1840. Why does Dickens comment on the participation of Irish immigrants in the temperance parade? Is their visibility significant? Why or why not?
  3. How does Dickens characterize Cincinnati's educational system? Do you agree with his analysis?
  4. Does Dickens seem surprised by things that he sees? If so, which things surprise him most? Why were they unexpected?

 
 
 

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