THE SEMI-COLON CLUB
OF CINCINNATI
by LOUIS L. TUCKER
Among the holdings of the Cincinnati
Historical Society1 is a box of
manuscripts containing 126 documents and
a single volume of a short-
lived magazine, titled The
Semi-Colon, which consists of three numbers.2
These two source materials represent the
sole remains of the Semi-Colon
Club, a literary society that flourished
in Cincinnati during the 1830's and
1840's.3 The activities of this club
constitute a significant chapter in the
intellectual history of Cincinnati and
the American West.
In the three decades prior to the Civil
War, Cincinnati was a Gulliver
among western cities. It was not only a
chief economic bastion but a
cultural center, a regional capital of
arts and science. In the first quarter
of the nineteenth century, Lexington,
Kentucky, had been the focus of
intellectual life in the West,4 but by
1830 Cincinnati had wrested the
crown of leadership from its Kentucky
rival. The upper Mississippi
Valley and Ohio River Valley now lit
their economic and cultural flame
from a Cincinnati candle--literally,
too, what with the enormous candle
production in Cincinnati! It was for
good reason that Cincinnati acquired
the title "Queen City of the
West." Cincinnati's importance as a manu-
facturing and commercial emporium has
been detailed in a number of
works, but surprisingly slight attention
has been devoted to its cultural
and intellectual activities and
attainments.5
One plausible answer for this dearth of
attention may be found in the
image of Cincinnati projected in Mrs.
Frances Trollope's celebrated
Domestic Manners of the Americans (1832). While Madam Trollope did
find a few Cincinnatians who measured up
to her high standards of literary
refinement and social breeding, she
indicted the city as an area populated
by boorish frontiersmen who were
disciples of Mammon and were more
intent on improving their bank accounts
than their minds. As she looked
about, Mrs. Trollope found Cincinnatians
actively employed in "search of
that honey of Hybla, vulgarly called
money."6 (It could be added that she
NOTES ARE ON PAGES 57-58
14 OHIO HISTORY
also joined in the search, but the honey
of Hybla eluded her.) Madam
Trollope's conception of Cincinnati has
hung over American historiography
with the persistence of a London fog. In
viewing Cincinnati, scholars
have been unable to penetrate beyond its
economic and commercial affairs.
Like Madam Trollope, they regard the
city as blatantly commercial, noted
for pork packing, candle production, and
the roughest waterfront district
in the Ohio River Valley. In a study now
in preparation, I hope to survey
the variegated cultural and intellectual
life of Cincinnati in that period of
its history (1830-60) when visitors
equally as refined as Madam Trollope,
but less given to hyperbole and less
inclined to personal bitterness,
described it in more glowing terms.7
Even a letter to a Cleveland news-
paper gratuitously conceded in 1837 that
Cincinnati was rapidly becoming
the "Athens of the West!"8
This essay focusses on the Semi-Colon
Club,
which was one of the more important
agencies in the veritable kaleido-
scope of literary, cultural, and
educational organizations which abounded
in the city in the 1830-60 period.
The Semi-Colon Club owed its existence
to the tremendous economic
boom Cincinnati experienced during the
"Steamboat Age." Manufacturing
and commercial expansion, which was
conjunctive with the revolution in
transportation, produced the necessary
conditions for a formal intellectual
life. Almost overnight, a raw, primitive
frontier village grew into a
bustling, regional center. Even during
its village phase, Cincinnati was
blessed with a number of men of
substance who were as deeply committed
to education and the life of the mind as
they were to material success.
Martin Baum, the noted
entrepreneur-patron of the arts, typifies the
enlightened business leadership of
Cincinnati's early settlers. Baum and
others of like cast laid the groundwork
for a cultural explosion during the
1830-60 period. By 1830, with the influx
of many educated easterners
(mostly from New England), Cincinnati
could boast of a high percentage
of men and women of impressive mental
qualities, people who represented
a tradition of culture, education, and
refinement. These were the people
who organized the myriad agencies of
intellectual life which came to
characterize the Queen City during this
phase of its history.9 One of these
agencies was the Semi-Colon Club.
Who first inspired formation of the club
is not known for certain. Not
even its members could agree on the
founders. According to John Foote,
whose brother was a leading light of the
club, the founding agents were
a group of transplanted New Englanders
led by the Rev. E. B. Hall, his
wife, Judge Timothy Walker, and Nathan
Guilford, all of whom were key
figures among the local
intelligentsia.10 Edwin Cranch, an active member
of the club, wrote in later years that
Benjamin Drake, a newspaper editor,
was a moving force in the club's
founding.11
Benjamin's brother Daniel, an
intellectual colossus who was known to
his contemporaries as the "Franklin
of the West," may have had a hand
in organizing the society.12 Although a
medical doctor by profession,
Daniel became involved in virtually
every cultural and scientific develop-
THE SEMI-COLON CLUB 15
ment (and institution) in Cincinnati
during his long residence there. At an
earlier day (1815-16), while in
Philadelphia attending medical lectures at
the University of Pennsylvania, Drake
had been a frequent visitor to the
literary soirees sponsored by the
scientist Caspar Wistar, Jr.; these were
held during the winter months and called
"Wistar parties." To these
informal affairs came the prominent intellectuals
of the city, including a
number associated with the American
Philosophical Society. In design
and purpose, the Semi-Colon Club
meetings were somewhat akin to
Wistar's. Drake also began a Buckeye
Club (1833-39), which was a carbon
copy of Wistar's parties. These met at
Drake's own home and were
attended by many Semi-Colon Club
members. Drake's Buckeye Club did
not meet as regularly as the Semi-Colon
group, nor did it have as well
developed a format or as many guests; it
was mainly a small conversa-
tional gathering of intellectuals. Drake
made a conscious effort to repro-
duce the cultural life of Philadelphia
in Cincinnati when he took up
permanent residence in the Queen City.
He made it his life's mission to
force a western flowering and make
Cincinnati the cultural capital of the
West. Whether or not Drake founded the
Semi-Colon Club, he did take an
active part in its proceedings.
The origin of the club's
"whimsical" title is also a matter of speculation.
Again, not even the members shared a
common belief. Two explanations
were frequently bandied about. One
school of thought accepted Benjamin
Drake's explanation that the semi-colon
was a "point or punctum . . . a
little in advance of the period"
and thereby was symbolical of progress.l3
Another popularly held notion was that
Columbus was called "Colon" in
Spanish, and he who discovered a new
pleasure was considered to be at
least half as great as he who discovered
a new continent--ergo "Semi-
Colon."14 Whatever the source, the
club did have a name, but it purposely
refrained from having a constitution,
by-laws, or officers.15
The group convened only during the
winter months, although at least
one enthusiastic member urged that the
sessions be extended through the
summer. In a paper prepared for the
club, the writer asked: "Cannot we
have Summer Semicolons on the hills,
beneath the shadow of our beautiful
trees, by our lovely Ohio? Cannot we
laugh and sentimen[ta]lize--and
get in love with each other,--in the
country? Cannot we have some
regular Semicolon Pickwicks, (Picnics I
mean) ?"16 The members were not
prepared to traipse off into the hills
with their "baskets of provisions--
together with literary food." They
were assuredly aware that the summer
air was as humid in the neighboring
hills as it was in the city proper and
was hardly conducive to brisk,
intellectual activity. Then, too, the summer
months brought forth the dreaded cholera
epidemics, which made congre-
gating in groups inadvisable.17
The general pattern was to meet
fortnightly at the homes of either
Samuel Foote, William Greene, or William
Stetson; on occasion, meetings
were held in the comfortable town houses
of other members. Foote's
stately and spacious mansion on Third
Street, in the fashionable residential
area adjoining the business center, was the most popular meeting place. Featuring a striking classic facade, the home was a center of liberal hospitality and cultural activity until the panic of 1837. At that time, Foote took a severe financial ducking and was left with a sizeable number of notes bearing his signature on which his friends had defaulted.18 He lost his beautiful home, and the Semi-Colon Club lost a first-rate assembly site.19 Dominated by transplanted New Englanders, the club's membership contained the greatest concentration of intellect in the trans-Allegheny country. Heterogeneous in interest, this group was drawn together by basic common assumptions and shared views and values. Few American cities, east or west, could have boasted of a "brain trust" of higher intel- lectual quality. John Foote, a New Englander by background and a man of broad cultural experience, wrote that the club "constituted a literary galaxy which could scarcely have been equalled at that time in any city of our country."20 The roster reads like a Who's Who of the West of that day. Daniel Drake, Lyman Beecher, Harriet Beecher (Stowe), Catharine Beecher, Calvin Stowe, James H. Perkins, James Freeman Clarke, Timothy Flint, James Hall, Ormsby M. Mitchel, Edward D. Mansfield, Elizabeth Blackwell, Caroline Hentz--these were some of the more prominent lumin- aries who participated. As Forrest Wilson, the perceptive biographer of |
THE SEMI-COLON CLUB 17
Harriet Beecher Stowe, has noted,
"a dozen or more of the 'Semi-Colons'
left their names permanently in the
American collections of biography."21
As noted above, women were permitted to
participate in the club's affairs.
This reflects the more liberal attitude
prevailing in the West.
The gatherings were frequently attended
by visitors to Cincinnati who
were of "congenial minds and
talents." Charles Fenno Hoffman, the
popular New York author, was often a
visitor.22 There is strong internal
evidence to suggest that Charles Dickens
dropped in on the club when he
passed through the Queen City in early
April, 1842. There seems to be
no question but that Dickens' stay in
Cincinnati was spent in the company
of those who attended Semi-Colon
meetings. Dickens wrote in his Ameri-
can Notes that the "society with which I mingled was
intelligent, courte-
ous, and agreeable."23 Some of the
extant papers allude to Dickens as a
visitor to the soiree.24
While the club functioned without
constitution, by-laws, or permanent
officers, it did adhere to a prescribed
pattern. Meetings were kept brief,
and terminated at an early hour in the
evening. They were also character-
ized by a lack of extravagance in dress
and provender. Expensive culinary
luxuries were rigidly forbidden. Coffee,
tea, light dinner wines, sand-
wiches, sponge cake--this was the
traditional menu and only slight devia-
tion occurred from home to home. It was
a principle of the club to dis-
countenance ostentation in any form. The
prime desideratum was rational
amusement. Referring possibly to the
moderate use of alcoholic beverages
at the meetings, John Foote wrote that
the "health of the members was
not endangered, (nor the reputation of
their neighbors)."25 The meetings
often terminated with a Virginia reel, a
cotillion, or a musical presentation
by a member.
The central exercise, and raison
d'etre of the meetings, was the reading
of a literary work, either a prose or
verse selection; a general discussion
followed the reading. The format of the
meeting was as follows: All those
invited were requested to prepare a
literary offering. The principle of
moderation was to be observed in the
length of essays (many of the extant
papers are four pages), but authors
could unleash all restraint in develop-
ing their subject matter--and they
frequently did. Authors were to re-
main anonymous. The offerings were
brought to the meeting and
surreptitiously given to the hostess of
the evening; some were presented
days in advance of the meeting. The
hostess deposited them with William
Greene, an ex-Rhode Islander of
distinguished lineage who served as the
official reader. Greene's stately manner
and stentorian voice made him an
ideal choice for the job. A lawyer by
profession, Greene was particularly
fond of constitutional law, and this
topic became such a staple of his
normal conversation that he became known
as "Constitutional Billy."26
With the group seated about him (women
were permitted to knit) Greene
thumbed through the selections and read
those appearing to be intrinsic-
ally interesting and having literary
distinction.
Every effort was made by the founders of
the club to assure the anonym-
18 OHIO HISTORY
ity of authors. Hostesses were pledged
to secrecy, and members were
urged not to attempt to "run
down" authors and make them "confess."27
The reason for secrecy in authorship
extended beyond the consideration of
sparing a shy soul from embarrassment.
Cranch wrote that anonymity
gave "additional freedom to maturer
writers, while it emboldened begin-
ners to a spontaneity of thought and
style, which certainly added to the
literary budget of the night."28
But alas, human nature could hardly be
contained by rules. The evidence
suggests that one of the favorite games
played by members was that of
"Author, author, who is the
author?" For some, author's vanity was too
powerful a force to suppress, and they
divulged their literary secret to
close friends. Once identity had broken
through the dam of personal
secrecy, it swept through the club as
rapidly as the Ohio River swept
through the valley during the spring
floods. One member made sharp
comment on the practice of revealing
authorship in a paper prepared for
the club; it took the form of a letter,
which was a popular stylistic format.
Directed to "Elizabeth," it
recounted a Semi-Colon meeting at which the
author's paper was read: "At
last--at last! he [Mr. Greene] did take
mine up to read--Oh! I thought I should
smother! My head swam, my
heart beat--my eyes filled--everybody
too was looking directly at me--how
did they know it was my piece. Who could
have told! It was a profound
secret to every soul but you and myself
and Mary Smith and Katy Fennell,
and Caroline Durer, and how it could
have got out was certainly to me a
mystery!" The author went on to
write that, as the reading came to an
end, "I was sitting on the small
sofa near the front window under the ship-
wreck piece.... Mr. A. whom you used to
like so much sat next to me--
he leaned forward as if to say
something--I tremblingly turned half
around--'That's remarkably'-- Heavens! I thought I should faint!
'That's remarkably stupid!' said he. 'Do
you know whose it is?'"29 In the
case of Edwin Cranch, there was little
need for guesswork, for he boldly
adorned his selections with pencil
sketches, to the apparent delight of
the members.30
The gifted Harriet Beecher Stowe
attempted many ingenious devices
to conceal her authorship. In her case
it would seem that personal shy-
ness, the vicarious thrill she derived
from deluding the members, and
a penchant for stylistic experimentation
were motives of co-equal value.
One of her letter-essays was couched in
the style of Boswell's Dr. Samuel
Johnson. Wrote Harriet to trusted friend
Georgiana May of Hartford:
"I have been stilting about in his
[Johnson's] style so long that it is a re-
lief to me to come down to the jog of
common English." Harriet's first
contribution to the club was done in the
"outrageous style of paren-
theses and foggification" (as she
phrased it) of Bishop Joseph Butler,
the English theologian.31
Another of Harriet's contributions
indicates the extent to which some
authors went to conceal their identity,
as well as to confuse the ever-gues-
sing members, Harriet became disturbed
because, in her judgment, too
THE SEMI-COLON CLUB 19
many of the papers dealt with such
hackneyed themes as matrimony, old
maids, and bachelors. To counter this
trend and establish higher literary
standards, she first prepared a set of
legislative enactments purporting to
organize a club which forbade discussion
of such topics. She then decided
to show the way by writing a set of
"serious and rational" letters. In com-
posing the first letter, she set it up
as coming from a close friend. Designed
to lay the groundwork for subsequent
letters dealing with various serious
themes, it introduced a man and wife
(the Howards), who were portrayed
as a pious and literary-minded couple
living in a rural setting. After
completing the letter, Harriet carefully
smoked it until it acquired a
yellowed appearance, slightly tore it at
various places, and sealed it and
cracked the seal. Then she placed it in
an envelope, addressed it in a
"scrawny, scrawly gentleman's hand,"
and directed it to Mrs. Samuel
Foote. Samuel Foote, who was Harriet's
uncle, "pronounced ex cathedra,
that it must have been a real
letter." Apparently forgetting for the moment
that members were not to attempt to
identify authors, official reader
"Billy" Greene guessed that it
was the work of James Hall's wife. As the
time for meeting approached, Harriet was
tied into knots of un-
certainty and anticipation. Her cousin
Elizabeth Foote, the only one to
be told of the plan (even Harriet could
not observe the rule of secrecy),
was certain the letter was overly
sentimental in tone and would be severely
criticized by fellow Semi-Colons. Wrote
Harriet: "I am unused to being
criticised, and don't know how I shall
bear it."32 Unfortunately, the sources
dry up at this point, and it is not
possible to tell what kind of an impact
Harriet's letter made on the membership,
or if she continued the series.
Before evaluating the literary remains
of the club, it would be proper
to examine the motivation which inspired
its founding. While no member
explicitly committed the thought to
paper, there is sufficient internal evi-
dence suggesting that the club was
designed to fill social and intellectual
cravings. Despite its meteoric rise as
an urban center, Cincinnati was
still the frontier. Its cultural and
intellectual institutions lacked the urbane
sophistication of those of Philadelphia
and Boston. Practically all of the
Semi-Colon members were either emigrants
from the East, or had been
exposed to literary clubs while traveling
through, or residing in, this area
for a time (Daniel Drake, for example).
To these people, life without
intellectual stimulation was
unthinkable. The Semi-Colon Club provided
them with nourishing intellectual fare.
Besides, it was, in a word, great fun.
A secondary function is expressed in one
of the club's papers, which
listed its objectives and intents. The
paper was ostensibly inspired by
a lack of decorum manifested by
contemporary congressmen. It affirmed
that "fist-fighting in the Halls of
Congress, and meetings by its members
at Bladensburgh, to commit murder"
were "not essential to the public
welfare," and that members of
congress were "not necessarily required
to be bullies and brawlers in order to
be qualified for the duties of their
stations." The writer went on to
assert that "semi-colonism acts upon
the public welfare, by increasing
the amount of the private and domestic
virtues, by extending the influences of kindly feelings, and the intercourse of friendship, and of the knowledge that public prosperity is better pro- moted by the exercise of private virtues than by acts grounded on maxims of political expediency."33 Now what of the character and quality of the extant literary works? A conspicuous feature is their wide range of subject matter. The evidence at hand does not square with Harriet Beecher Stowe's charge that a few standard themes were worked over constantly-but it must be acknowl- edged that what remains is a minuscule portion of the whole. A random glance through the essays reveals such diverse items as: the advantages of traveling by steamboat; a method for analyzing character; a "dis- sertation on names"; a satiric blast at the city council; numerous examples of mawkish and doggerel verse; "unforgettable character" essays; jokes and other humor pieces. Reflecting on her residency in Cincinnati and attendance at Semi-Colon meetings, Anna Blackwell stated that "con- versation [and papers, by implication] ranged from immortality to cran- berry sauce, from Adam and Eve to 'old' Dr. [Lyman] Beecher."34 With no restriction placed on subject matter, authors gave full vent to their imagination and their selections reflect an enormously wide range of subject matter. |
THE SEMI-COLON CLUB
21
As for the literary quality of the
extant works, the most charitable
judgment an historian could render is
"average." Perhaps a different
value judgment would be in order if the
collection consisted entirely of
the essays and verse offerings of such
authors as Harriet Beecher Stowe,
James Hall, or Daniel Drake, et al. But
such is not the case. What remains
is a representative assortment, and
since they are not signed, authorship
can only be determined on the basis of
internal evidence (except in the case
of Cranch's illustrated essays). If some
of the offerings represent second-
rate literature, most, if not all,
exhibit a sensitive appreciation of such
elements as diction, spelling, and
syntax. It would appear that Semi-
Colon members to a man (or woman) knew
the rudiments of literary
expression.
As for subject matter, a high percentage
of what survives are frivolous
humor items. There are very few
philosophical or deeply serious works.
It need be noted that brevity was
insisted upon, and philosophical treatises
do not lend themselves to brief
treatment. Moreover, the character of the
meetings was such that light, fanciful
offerings were called for. Perhaps
this may represent the secret of the
club's longevity.
The humor pieces also may help to
explain the immense popularity of
the meetings. Looking back, one member
fondly regarded them as the
"apotheosis of wit, humor and
fun."35 Anna Blackwell wrote: "What
flights up, down, and round about! and
what hearty merriment over our
witticisms and our neighbors
blunders!"36 James H. Perkins reported to
a friend in 1834 that the papers were
better than in past years and "we
have had singing too and
dancing."37 "There never was a meeting,"
wrote Cranch, "that was not fully
attended, delightful, and brilliant."38
The coming of winter meant conviviality
and gay times for the Semi-
Colons. One member rhapsodically
expressed it this way in a piece pre-
pared for the club:
The other morning a bright ray pierced
the gloom that like a
sable mantle has enwrapped us all this
winter. -- a joyous note --
the gay carol of a bird was heard in the
morn silence, -- a light
hearted whisper -- amid the monotonous
mutterings of dull weeks
and hard times -- a whisper heard in
other days -- but so long ago
that its tones were almost forgotten.
It went forth -- the whisper --
gathering consistency in its course,
-- and as it fell upon willing ears,
there came up smiles that spoke
of the remembrances of many past
pleasures -- of happy moments
recalled -- of rosy hours chased with
flying feet -- of rapid nights --
that slid -- we know not how -- into morning, -- of the merry
infectious laugh -- of music, light and
flowers, -- of bright eyes and
dancing hearts, -- of -- of, delicate
sponge cake -- and coffee un-
surpassable!
The whisper was semi colon! -- Such a
rattling of steel pens! --
Such a crackling of goose quills! --
Such a rustling of paper -- both
letter and curl!39
22 OHIO HISTORY
There is only one piece of negative
evidence suggesting that some
regarded the meetings as a grand bore.
The literary historian William
H. Venable once interviewed an old-timer
who had attended the parties
as a young man. The elderly gentleman
recalled: "We went to different
houses of the folks, and certain
manuscript articles were read, which
were supposed to be interesting and
instructive. I suppose they were, as
there is no evidence to the contrary.
Personally, however, I remember
thinking that most of them were stupid.
Most of us were glad when the
readings were over, for then we did
something else, the principal of which
was dancing."40 Obviously, this
member was not of a literary bent.
If their literary quality leaves much to
be desired, of what value are
such materials to the historian? It is
my contention that they are of en-
ormous value. They represent a window
for observing the literary values
and thought structure of an impressive
intellectual elite, a group which
was prototypal of American intellectuals
of that period. It is possible, for
example, to gain an insight into the
type of humor which had appeal to
them. Consider these conundrums taken
from a selection of the papers:
"Why are affectionate friends like
a string of sausages?"
"Because they are attached to
each other."
"Why is an exaggeration not a
viper?"
"Because he is an adder."
"What instrument of martial music
would answer best to boil eggs
in?"
"A kettle-drum."
"To whom should one apply for a
remedy?"
"To the Cincinnati re-leaf society."
"What is the difference between
Christopher Smith and a bottle of
rum?"
"One is an undertaker and the other
an overtaker."
"What gigantic name should we apply
to liars?"
"Go-liah."
"What state is spoken of oftener
than any other these hard times?"
"Ohio--Oh, heigho!"
"When boys are given to bad habits,
why are they like lamps?"
"They are wicked."41
These documents also provide the
historian with a wealth of information
on prevailing customs and general living
patterns. While mostly fictional-
ized, the pieces are based on actual,
contemporary experience. One of the
papers, for example, provides a detailed
description of life on a canal boat.
Such travel, one learns, was not akin to
the romanticized notion now in
vogue. From the moment the workmen flung
the baggage aboard (it came
on like a "hailstorm") to the
day of embarkation, the journey was a trying
THE SEMI-COLON CLUB 23
experience. The cramped living quarters,
the interrelationship of a group
of strangers of varying age and diverse
background in these crowded
cabins, the problems attendant upon
traveling with children--all of these
factors are carefully delineated.42 The
document represents a valuable
piece of Americana.
Other documents reveal an attitude of
mind held by many western
immigrants--homesickness! In prose and
poetry, there are wistful, nos-
talgic remembrances of the ordered life
of the past--familiar scenes, loved
ones, and the like. A poem, "The
Emigrant," contains these telling stanzas:
Where can lonely sorrow
A ray of comfort find?
Gleams there in tomorrow
One hope to cheer the mind?
Pride and folly only
Enticed me far from home,
Friendless, sad, and lonly [sic]
Through distant lands to roam.
Father now I know not,
Nor mother's face I see;
Eyes of love now glow not
With tears of joy for me.
Sisters have I none here,
Nor brothers good and kind;
No, I am alone here,
The sport of every wind.43
A New Englander continues the emigrant's
lament in a poem titled "New
England's snow":
Those many, merry Sleigh-bells!
Oh! dear to me their chimes,
For they carry thought and memory back
To boyhood's happiest times.
And long the cherished and beloved,
The thoughts, where 'er I go,
Of youthful home, and early friends,
And dear New England snow.44
Another New Englander, the sensitive
Unitarian James H. Perkins
spoke for many of his fellow emigrants:
Why do I love that rocky land,
And that inclement sky?
24 OHIO HISTORY
I know alone, I love it--
And ask not, care not why.
As round my friends my feelings twine,
So round my native shore;
God placed the instinct in my heart,
And I seek to know no more.
My father's bones, New England,
Sleep in thy hallow'd ground;
My living kin, New England,
In thy shady paths are found--
And though my body dwelleth here,
And my weary feet here roam,
My spirit and my hopes are still
In thee, my own true home.45
If the poetry is bland, from an
aesthetic standpoint, it nonetheless has
value, for it reveals the inner face of
an America on the move. Nineteenth-
century America was filled with
countless thousands who were building a
new civilization in the West. Psychologically
and emotionally they were
alienated from a settled way of life,
and they were homesick. In their
poetic utterances they expressed their
innermost cravings for a return to
the familiar. The process of alienation
in the immigration of Europeans,
which Oscar Handlin so brilliantly
describes in The Uprooted, was repeated
on the American mainland as the hordes
swept westward, pushing blindly
on to the Pacific, much like lemmings in
their celebrated act of self-
destruction. The historian cannot in good
conscience consign these poetic
expressions to the literary garbage
dump.
In a broader context, the Semi-Colon
Club made a distinct contribution
to the cultural development of the West.
It was through the doings of such
agencies that the rough edge of frontier
life was blunted, and the cultural
values of the more settled East were
impregnated. Semi-Colonism also
helped in the development of a western
literary tradition by affording
potential authors an opportunity to write
and, equally important, to
receive constructive criticism. A number
of the essays and poems delivered
before the club subsequently found their
way into local newspapers and
magazines, as well as national journals.
Publication assuredly stimulated
authors to continue their writing, and
the net result was the development
of a cadre of western literati, who
later made conspicuous contributions to
the history of American letters.
It could be argued that the Semi-Colon
Club was singularly responsible
for developing Harriet Beecher Stowe as
an author. The club provided her
with a forum for literary expression,
her first such forum. Cranch remem-
bered Harriet as "a bright and
happy girl, running over with genius and
sympathy--and it was there [in the
Semi-Colon Club] she first fledged her
wings as a writer."46 As Forrest
Wilson has indicated, the club's policy of
THE SEMI-COLON CLUB 25
not divulging authors held great appeal
for the shy Harriet.47 Without
fear of suffering embarrassment, she
plunged into literary work--and into
a career as an author. One of her early
pieces was a character sketch of
her father's foster-father, Lot Benton;
she titled it "Uncle Lot." Impressed
by the essay, James Hall, who was then
publishing the Western Monthly
Review, "ran down" the author and persuaded her to
enter it in an essay
contest being sponsored by his magazine.
Harriet's essay won top prize
(a fifty-dollar award) and Hall
published it as "A New England Sketch"
(April 1834). It was Harriet's first
appearance in print. According to
Forrest Wilson, this essay can be ranked
with Uncle Tom's Cabin for the
picture she painted of her native New
England. Harriet's shrewd, humor-
ous, and pious "Uncle Lot"
became in time the stereotyped conception of
the New Englander.48 Harriet
subsequently published other Semi-Colon
essays in a variety of national
journals, including the popular Lady's
Book.49 If the
Semi-Colon Club accomplished no other achievement than to
"bring out" Lyman Beecher's
mousey little daughter as an author, it can
be credited with having made a major
contribution to American literary
history. Harriet's recognition of her
debt to the club is indicated by the
fact that she dedicated her very first
book, The Mayflower (1849), to it.
It was the belief of some members that
the club had a salutary effect on
the manners and morals of the
"higher classes of society" in Cincinnati.
John Foote saw a strong correlation
between the club and the low incidence
of serious crime among the city's social
elite. He noted that the members
of his social order rarely, if ever,
committed murders, participated in
duels, or broke "the heads of
gentlemen while [they were] sitting quietly
at their desks."50 We have it on
the authority of Edward Mansfield that,
in the decade preceding the formation of
the club, prominent merchants
and other "gentlemen" of
Cincinnati exhibited a strong predilection for
gambling, particularly card playing.
Indeed, gambling was apparently a
normal part of the daily routine of all
elements in the city! A crackdown
by the marshal and his officers, who
were seized by "a sudden spasm of
virtue," once led to the arrest of
nearly one hundred of the city's "first"
citizens. The general public (as well as
those apprehended) was astounded
--by the action of the marshal, not by
the quality of the catch! Included
in the roundup were the sheriff and
prosecuting attorney! The incident
provoked this jibe from a satiric poet,
"Horace":
Our citizens had long,
Unfearing fortune's evils,
With cards, and wine and song,
Enjoyed their midnight revels.
They grew more free and bold,
Nor thought to be molested;
At length a tale was told,
And every man arrested.51
Whether or not Semi-Colonism had a
curbing effect on the "gentlemen's"
26 OHIO HISTORY
passion for gambling or on more serious
wayward practices cannot be
determined with certainty, but it is
known that the more prominent mem-
bers of the club were more noted for
civic virtue than for dissolute per-
sonal behavior.
The panic of 1837 marked the beginning
of the end for the club.
It limped along for a period and then
expired "as naturally as it arose,
from changes in the social conditions of
its members, its daily Patrons and
the community at large."52
THE AUTHOR: Louis L. Tucker is
director of the Cincinnati Historical
Society.
THE SEMI-COLON CLUB
OF CINCINNATI
by LOUIS L. TUCKER
Among the holdings of the Cincinnati
Historical Society1 is a box of
manuscripts containing 126 documents and
a single volume of a short-
lived magazine, titled The
Semi-Colon, which consists of three numbers.2
These two source materials represent the
sole remains of the Semi-Colon
Club, a literary society that flourished
in Cincinnati during the 1830's and
1840's.3 The activities of this club
constitute a significant chapter in the
intellectual history of Cincinnati and
the American West.
In the three decades prior to the Civil
War, Cincinnati was a Gulliver
among western cities. It was not only a
chief economic bastion but a
cultural center, a regional capital of
arts and science. In the first quarter
of the nineteenth century, Lexington,
Kentucky, had been the focus of
intellectual life in the West,4 but by
1830 Cincinnati had wrested the
crown of leadership from its Kentucky
rival. The upper Mississippi
Valley and Ohio River Valley now lit
their economic and cultural flame
from a Cincinnati candle--literally,
too, what with the enormous candle
production in Cincinnati! It was for
good reason that Cincinnati acquired
the title "Queen City of the
West." Cincinnati's importance as a manu-
facturing and commercial emporium has
been detailed in a number of
works, but surprisingly slight attention
has been devoted to its cultural
and intellectual activities and
attainments.5
One plausible answer for this dearth of
attention may be found in the
image of Cincinnati projected in Mrs.
Frances Trollope's celebrated
Domestic Manners of the Americans (1832). While Madam Trollope did
find a few Cincinnatians who measured up
to her high standards of literary
refinement and social breeding, she
indicted the city as an area populated
by boorish frontiersmen who were
disciples of Mammon and were more
intent on improving their bank accounts
than their minds. As she looked
about, Mrs. Trollope found Cincinnatians
actively employed in "search of
that honey of Hybla, vulgarly called
money."6 (It could be added that she
NOTES ARE ON PAGES 57-58