The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 20, No. 118, August, 1867: A Magazine of Literature, Science, Art, and PoliticsVarious
General
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 20, No. 118, August, 1867: A Magazine of Literature, Science, Art, and Politics
Various
American periodicals
The long room in which the creatures are put to death, scalded, and
japanned presents, as may be imagined, a most horrid scene of massacre
and blood,--of steaming water and flabby, naked, quivering hogs,--of men
in oil-skin suits all shining with wet and grease. The rest of the
establishment is perfectly clean and agreeable. The moment the body of
the animal is emptied, a boy inundates it from a hose, and then another
boy pushes it along the wire from which it hangs on a wheel, and takes
it to its place in the cooling-room, where it hangs all night. This
cooling-room is a curious spectacle. It contains two regiments of
suspended hogs, arranged in long, regular rows: one regiment, the result
of to-day's operations; the other, of yesterday's. The cutting up of
these huge carcasses is accomplished with the same easy and wonderful
rapidity. The first that we chanced to see cut to pieces was an enormous
fellow of six hundred pounds, and it was done in just one third of a
minute. Two men tumbled him over upon a wagon, wheeled him to the
scales, where his weight was instantly ascertained and recorded. Near by
was the cutting-table, upon which he was immediately flopped. Two
simultaneous blows with a cleaver severed his head and his hind quarters
from the trunk, and the subdivision of these was accomplished by three
or four masterly cuts with the same instrument. Near the table are the
open mouths of as many large wooden pipes as there are kinds of pieces
in a hog, and these lead to the various apartments below, where the
several pieces are to be further dealt with. Gently down their
well-greased pipe slip the hams to the smoking-department; away glide
the salting-pieces to the cellar; the lard-leaves slide softly down to
the trying-room; the trimmings of the hams vanish silently down their
pipe to the sausage-room; the tongue, the feet, and every atom of the
flesh, start on their journey to the places where they are wanted; and
thus, in the twenty seconds, the six-hundred-pounder has been cut to
pieces and distributed all over an extensive building.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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