increasing wealth, if it had not become so largely German in its
population, we can only conjecture. The German element was at once
conservative as to improvements and liberalizing, as the phrase is, in
theology and in life. Bituminous coal and the Germans combined to make
a novel American city. When Dickens saw the place it was a compact,
smiling little city, with a few country places on the hills. It is now
a scattered city of country places, with a little nucleus of beclouded
business streets. The traveller does not go there to see the city, but
to visit the suburbs, climbing into them, out of the smoke and grime, by
steam “inclines” and grip railways. The city is indeed difficult to
see. When you are in it, by the river, you can see nothing; when you are
outside of it you are in any one of half a dozen villages, in regions
of parks and elegant residences, altogether charming and geographically
confusing; and if from some commanding point you try to recover the city
idea, you look down upon black roofs half hid in black smoke, through
which the fires of factories gleam, and where the colored Ohio rolls
majestically along under a dark canopy. Looked at in one way, the real
Cincinnati is a German city, and you can only study its true character
“Over the Rhine,” and see it successfully through the bottom of an
upturned beer glass. Looked at another way, it is mainly an affair
of elegant suburbs, beautifully wooded hills, pleasure-grounds, and
isolated institutions of art or charity. I am thankful that there is no
obligation on me to depict it.
It would probably be described as a city of art rather than of theology,
and one of rural homes rather than metropolitan society. Perhaps
the German element has had something to do in giving it its musical
character, and the early culture may have determined its set more
towards art than religion. As the cloud of smoke became thicker and
thicker in the old city those who disliked this gloom escaped out upon
the hills in various directions. Many, of course, still cling to the
solid ancestral houses in the city, but the country movement was so
general that church-going became an affair of some difficulty, and I can
imagine that the church-going habit was a little broken up while the new
neighborhoods were forming on the hills and in the winding valleys, and
before the new churches in the suburbs were erected. Congregations
were scattered, and society itself was more or less disintegrated. Each
suburb is fairly accessible from the centre of the city, either by
a winding valley or by a bold climb up a precipice, but owing to the
configuration of the ground, it is difficult to get from one suburb to
another without returning to the centre and taking a fresh start. This
geographical hinderance must necessarily interfere with social life, and
tend to isolation of families, or to merely neighborhood association.
Although much yet remains to be done in the way of good roads, nature
and art have combined to make the suburbs of the city wonderfully
beautiful. The surface is most picturesquely broken, the forests
are fine, from this point and that there are views pleasing, poetic,
distant, perfectly satisfying in form and variety, and in advantageous
situations taste has guided wealth in the construction of stately
houses, having ample space in the midst of manorial parks. You are not
out of sight of these fine places in any of the suburbs, and there
are besides, in every direction, miles of streets of pleasing homes. I
scarcely know whether to prefer Clifton, with its wide sweeping avenues
rounding the hills, or the perhaps more commanding heights of Walnut,
nearer the river, and overlooking Kentucky. On the East Walnut Hills
is a private house worth going far to see for its color. It is built of
broken limestone, the chance find of a quarry, making the richest walls
I have anywhere seen, comparable to nothing else than the exquisite
colors in the rocks of the Yellowstone Falls, as I recall them in Mr.
Moran’s original studies.
If the city itself could substitute gas fuel for its smutty coal, I
fancy that, with its many solid homes and stately buildings, backed by
the picturesque hills, it would be a city at once curious and attractive
to the view. The visitor who ascends from the river as far as Fourth
Street is surprised to find room for fair avenues, and many streets and
buildings of mark. The Probasco fountain in another atmosphere would be
a thing of beauty, for one may go far to find so many groups in
bronze so good. The Post-office building is one of the best of the
Mullet-headed era of our national architecture—so good generally that
one wonders that the architect thought it expedient to destroy the
effect of the monolith columns by cutting them to resemble superimposed
blocks. A very remarkable building also is the new Chamber of Commerce
structure, from Richardson’s design, massive, mediæval, challenging
attention, and compelling criticism to give way to genuine admiration.
There are other buildings, public and private, that indicate a city of
solid growth; and the activity of its strong Chamber of Commerce is a
guarantee that its growth will be maintained with the enterprise common
to American cities. The effort is to make manufacturing take the place
in certain lines of business that, as in the item of pork-packing, has
been diverted by various causes. Money and effort have been freely given
to regain the Southern trade interrupted by the war, and I am forced to
believe that the success in this respect would have been greater if some
of the city newspapers had not thought it all-important to manufacture
political capital by keeping alive old antagonisms and prejudices.
Whatever people may say, sentiment does play a considerable part in
business, and it is within the knowledge of the writer that prominent
merchants in at least one Southern city have refused trade contracts
that would have been advantageous to Cincinnati, on account of this
exhibition of partisan spirit, as if the war were not over. Nothing
would be more contemptible than to see a community selling its
principles for trade; but it is true that men will trade, other things
being equal, where they are met with friendly cordiality and toleration,
and where there is a spirit of helpfulness instead of suspicion.
Professional politicians, North and South, may be able to demonstrate to
their satisfaction that they should have a chance to make a living,
but they ask too much when this shall be at the expense of free-flowing
trade, which is in itself the best solvent of any remaining alienation,
and the surest disintegrator of the objectionable political solidity,
and to the hinderance of that entire social and business good feeling
which is of all things desirable and necessary in a restored and
compacted Union. And it is as bad political as it is bad economic
policy. As a matter of fact, the politicians of Kentucky are grateful to
one or two Republican journals for aid in keeping their State “solid.”
It is a pity that the situation has its serious as well as its
ridiculous aspect.
Cincinnati in many respects is more an Eastern than a Western town;
it is developing its own life, and so far as I could see, without much
infusion of young fortune-hunting blood from the East. It has attained
its population of about 275,000 by a slower growth than some other
Western cities, and I notice in its statistical reports a pause rather
than excitement since 1878-79-80. The valuation of real and personal
property has kept about the same for nearly ten years (1886, real estate
about $129,000,000, personal about $42,000,000), with a falling off in
the personalty, and a noticeable decrease in the revenue from taxation.
At the same time manufacturing has increased considerably. In 1880 there
was a capital of $60,623,350, employing 74,798 laborers, with a product
of $148,957,280. In 1886 the capital was $76,248,200, laborers 93,103,
product $190,722,153. The business at the Post-office was a little less
in 1886 than in 1883. In the seven years ending with 1886 there was
a considerable increase in banking capital, which reached in the city
proper over ten millions, and there was an increase in clearings from
1881 to 1886.
It would teach us nothing to follow in detail the fluctuations of the
various businesses in Cincinnati, either in appreciation or decline, but
it may be noted that it has more than held its own in one of the great
staples—leaf tobacco—and still maintains a leading position. Yet I must
refer to one of the industries for the sake of an important experiment
made in connection with it. This is the experiment of profit-sharing
at Ivorydale, the establishment of Messrs. Procter and Gamble, now,
I believe, the largest soap factory in the world. The soap and candle
industry has always been a large one in Cincinnati, and it has increased
about seventy-five per cent, within the past two years. The proprietors
at Ivorydale disclaim any intention of philanthropy in their new
scheme—that is, the philanthropy that means giving something for
nothing, as a charity: it is strictly a business operation. It is an
experiment that I need not say will be watched with a good deal of
interest as a means of lessening the friction between the interests of
capital and labor. The plan is this: Three trustees are named who are
to declare the net profits of the concern every six months; for this
purpose they are to have free access to the books and papers at all
times, and they are to permit the employes to designate a book-keeper
to make an examination for them also. In determining the net profits,
interest on all capital invested is calculated as an expense at the rate
of six per cent., and a reasonable salary is allowed to each member of
the firm who gives his entire time to the business. In order to share
in the profits, the employé must have been at work for three consecutive
months, and must be at work when the semi-annual account is made up.
All the men share whose wages have exceeded $5 a week, and all the women
whose wages have exceeded $4.25 a week. The proportion divided to
each employé is determined by the amount of wages earned; that is, the
employés shall share as between themselves in the profits exactly as
they have shared in the entire fund paid as wages to the whole body,
excluding the first three months’ wages. In order to determine the
profits for distribution, the total amount of wages paid to all employés
(except travelling salesmen, who do not share) is ascertained. The
amount of all expenses, Including interest and salaries, is ascertained,
and the total net profits shall be divided between the firm and the
employés sharing in the fund. The amount of the net profit to be
distributed will be that proportion of the whole net profit which will
correspond to the proportion of the wages paid as compared with
the entire cost of production and the expense of the business. To
illustrate: If the wages paid to all employés shall equal twenty per
cent, of the entire expenditure in the business, including interest and
salaries of members of the firm, then twenty per cent, of the net profit
will be distributed to employés.
It will be noted that this plan promotes steadiness in work, stimulates
to industry, and adds a most valuable element of hopefulness to labor.
As a business enterprise for the owners it is sound, for it makes
every workman an interested party in increasing the profits of the
firm—interested not only in production, but in the marketableness of the
thing produced. There have been two divisions under this plan. At the
declaration of the first the workmen had no confidence in it; many of
them would have sold their chances for a glass of beer. They expected
that “expenses” would make such a large figure that nothing would
be left to divide. When they received, as the good workmen did,
considerable sums of money, life took on another aspect to them, and
we may suppose that their confidence in fair dealing was raised. The
experiment of a year has been entirely satisfactory; it has not
only improved the class of employés, but has introduced into the
establishment a spirit of industrial cheerfulness. Of course it is still
an experiment. So long as business is good, all will go well; but
if there is a bad six months, and no profits, it is impossible that
suspicion should not arise. And there is another consideration: the
publishing to the world that the business of six months was without
profit might impair credit. But, on the other hand, this openness in
legitimate business may be contagious, and in the end promotive of a
wider and more stable business confidence. Ivorydale is one of the best
and most solidly built industrial establishments anywhere to be found,
and doubly interesting for the intelligent attempt to solve the most
difficult problem in modern society. The first semi-annual dividend
amounted to about an eighth increase of wages. A girl who was earning
five dollars a week would receive as dividend about thirty dollars a
year. I think it was not in my imagination that the laborers in
this establishment worked with more than usual alacrity, and seemed
contented. If this plan shall prevent strikes, that alone will be as
great a benefit to the workmen as to those who risk capital in employing
them.
Probably to a stranger the chief interest of Cincinnati is not in its
business enterprises, great as they are, but in another life just as
real and important, but which is not always considered in taking account
of the prosperity of a community—the development of education and of the
fine arts. For a long time the city has had an independent life in art
and in music. Whether a people can be saved by art I do not know. The
pendulum is always swinging backward and forward, and we seem never to
be able to be enthusiastic in one direction without losing something
in another. The art of Cincinnati has a good deal the air of being
indigenous, and the outcome in the arts of carving and design and in
music has exhibited native vigor. The city has made itself a reputation
for wood-carving and for decorative pottery. The Rockwood pottery, the
private enterprise of Mrs. Bellamy Storer, is the only pottery in this
country in which the instinct of beauty is paramount to the desire of
profit. Here for a series of years experiments have been going on with
clays and glazing, in regard to form and color, and in decoration purely
for effect, which have resulted in pieces of marvellous interest and
beauty. The effort has always been to satisfy a refined sense rather
than to cater to a vicious taste, or one for startling effects already
formed. I mean that the effort has not been to suit the taste of
the market, but to raise that taste. The result is some of the most
exquisite work in texture and color anywhere to be found, and I was glad
to learn that it is gaining an appreciation which will not in this case
leave virtue to be its own reward.
The various private attempts at art expression have been consolidated in
a public Museum and an Art School, which are among the best planned and
equipped in the country. The Museum Building in Eden Park, of which the
centre pavilion and west wing are completed (having a total length of
214 feet from east to west), is in Romanesque style, solid and pleasing,
with exceedingly well-planned exhibition-rooms and picture-galleries,
and its collections are already choice and interesting. The fund was
raised by the subscriptions of 455 persons, and amounts to $310,501,
of which Mr. Charles R. West led off with the contribution of $150,000,
invested as a permanent fund. Near this is the Art School, also a noble
building, the gift of Mr. David Sinton, who in 1855 gave the Museum
Association $75,000 for this purpose. It should be said that the
original and liberal endowment of the Art School was made by Mr.
Nicholas Longworth, in accordance with the wish of his father, and
that the association also received a legacy of $40,000 from Mr. R. R.
Springer. Altogether the association has received considerably over a
million of dollars, and has in addition, by gift and purchase, property
gained at nearly $200,000. The Museum is the fortunate possessor of one
of the three Russian Reproductions, the other two being in the South
Kensington Museum of London and the Metropolitan of New York. Thus, by
private enterprise, in the true American way, the city is graced and
honored by art buildings which give it distinction, and has a school of
art so well equipped and conducted that it attracts students from far
and near, filling its departments of drawing, painting, sculpture,
and wood-carving with eager learners. It has over 400 scholars in the
various departments. The ample endowment fund makes the school really
free, there being only a nominal charge of about $5 a year.
In the collection of paintings, which has several of merit, is one with
a history, which has a unique importance. This is B. R. Haydon’s “Public
Entry of Christ into Jerusalem.” This picture of heroic size, and in the
grand style which had a great vogue in its day, was finished in 1820,
sold for £170 in 1831, and brought to Philadelphia, where it was
exhibited. The exhibition did not pay expenses, and the picture was
placed in the Academy as a companion piece to Benjamin West’s “Death on
the Pale Horse.” In the fire of 1845 both canvases were rescued by being
cut from the frames and dragged out like old blankets. It was finally
given to the Cathedral in Cincinnati, where its existence was forgotten
until it was discovered lately and loaned to the Museum. The interest
in the picture now is mainly an accidental one, although it is a fine
illustration of the large academic method, and in certain details
is painted with the greatest care. Haydon’s studio was the resort of
English authors of his day, and the portraits of several of them are
introduced into this picture. The face of William Hazlitt does duty
as St. Peter; Wordsworth and Sir Isaac Newton and Voltaire appear as
spectators of the pageant—the cynical expression of Voltaire is the
worldly contrast to the believing faith of the disciples—and the
inspired face of the youthful St. John is that of John Keats. This being
the only portrait of Keats in life, gives this picture extraordinary
interest.
The spirit of Cincinnati, that is, its concern for interests not
altogether material, is also illustrated by its College of Music. This
institution was opened in 1878. It was endowed by private subscription,
the largest being $100,000 by Mr. R. R. Springer. It is financially
very prosperous; its possessions in real estate, buildings—including a
beautiful concert hall—and invested endowments amount to over $300,000.
Its average attendance is about 550, and during the year 1887 it had
about 650 different scholars. From tuition alone about $45,000 were
received, and although the expenditures were liberal, the college had at
the beginning of 1888 a handsome cash balance. The object of the college
is the development of native talent, and to evoke this the best foreign
teachers obtainable have been secured. In the departments of the voice,
the piano, and the violin, American youth are said to show special
proficiency, and the result of the experiment thus far is to strengthen
the belief that out of our mixed nationality is to come most artistic
development in music. Free admission is liberally given to pupils who
have talent but not the means to cultivate it. Recognizing the value of
broad culture in musical education, the managers have provided courses
of instruction in English literature, lectures upon American authors,
and for the critical study of Italian. The college proper has forty
teachers, and as many rooms for instruction. Near it, and connected by
a covered way, is the great Music Hall, with a seating capacity of 5400,
and the room to pack in nearly 7000 people. In this superb hall the
great annual musical festivals are held. It has a plain interior,
sealed entirely in wood, and with almost no ornamentation to impair its
resonance. The courage of the projectors who dared to build this hall
for a purely musical purpose and not for display is already vindicated.
It is no doubt the best auditorium in the country. As age darkens the
wood, the interior grows rich, and it is discovered that the effect of
the seasoning of the wood or of the musical vibrations steadily improves
the acoustic properties, having the same effect upon the sonorousness of
the wood that long use has upon a good violin. The whole interior is a
magnificent sounding-board, if that is the proper expression, and for
fifty years, if the hall stands, it will constantly improve, and have a
resonant quality unparalleled in any other auditorium.
The city has a number of clubs, well housed, such as are common to
other cities, and some that are peculiar. The Cuvier Club, for the
preservation of game, has a very large museum of birds, animals,
and fishes, beautifully prepared and arranged. The Historical and
Philosophical Society has also good quarters, a library of about 10,000
books and 44,000 pamphlets, and is becoming an important depository of
historical manuscripts. The Literary Society, composed of 100 members,
who meet weekly, in commodious apartments, to hear an essay, discuss
general topics, and pass an hour socially about small tables, with
something to eat and drink, has been vigorously-maintained since 1848.
An institution of more general importance is the Free Public Library,
which has about 150,000 books and 18,000 pamphlets. This is supported
in part by an accumulated fund, but mainly by a city tax, which is
appropriated through the Board of Education. The expenditures for it
in 1887 were about $50,000. It has a notably fine art department. The
Library is excellently managed by Mr. A. W. Whelpley, the librarian, who
has increased its circulation and usefulness by recognizing the new
idea that a librarian is not a mere custodian of books, but should be
a stimulator and director of the reading of a community. This office
becomes more and more important now that the good library has to compete
for the attention of the young with the “cheap and nasty” publications
of the day. It is probably due somewhat to direction in reading that
books of fiction taken from the Library last year were only fifty-one
per cent, of the whole.
An institution established in many cities as a helping hand to women
is the Women’s Exchange. The Exchange in Cincinnati is popular as a
restaurant. Many worthy women support themselves by preparing food which
is sold here over the counter, or served at the tables. The city has
for many years sustained a very good Zoological Garden, which is much
frequented except in the winter. Interest in it is not, however, as
lively as it was formerly. It seems very difficult to keep a “zoo” up to
the mark in America.
I do not know that the public schools of Cincinnati call for special
mention. They seem to be conservative schools, not differing from the
best elsewhere, and they appear to be trying no new experiments. One
of the high-schools which I saw with 600 pupils is well conducted, and
gives good preparation for college. The city enumeration is over 87,000
children between the ages of six and twenty-one, and of these about
36,000 are reported not in school. Of the 2300 colored children in the
city, about half were in school. When the Ohio Legislature repealed
the law establishing separate schools for colored people, practically
creating mixed schools, a majority of the colored parents in the city
petitioned and obtained branch schools of their own, with colored
teachers in charge. The colored people everywhere seem to prefer to be
served by teachers and preachers of their own race.
The schools of Cincinnati have not adopted manual training, but a
Technical School has been in existence about a year, with promise of
success. The Cincinnati University under the presidency of Governor Cox
shows new vitality. It is supported in part by taxation, and is open
free to all resident youth, so that while it is not a part of the
public-school system, it supplements it.
Cincinnati has had a great many discouragements of late, turbulent
politics and dishonorable financial failures. But, for all that, it
impresses one as a solid city, with remarkable development in the higher
civilization.