THREE DAYS AT CHICAGO.
On the eleventh of September, I took the 7.50 morning train at Michigan
City for Chicago, instead of going forward on horseback, as I had
discovered by a study of the map of Illinois, that I could save _Paul_
some thirty miles, in my journey across the State, by riding directly
from Michigan City to Joliet, and I saw no good reason why I should ride
him up here, especially at a time when he was greatly in need of rest.
When I had registered at the "Grand Pacific," I went to the Fidelity
Safe Deposit Company to attend to some business matters and then over to
the Express and Post offices, concluding my rounds by a call upon
friends on West Washington street.
Lectured to a full house at Farwell Hall in the evening, the
introduction being given by Major E. S. Weedon, editor of the _Army and
Navy Gazette_. The Major alluded in eloquent and touching terms to the
record of the gallant Custer and immediately put my audience in sympathy
with me. My brother-in-law, Madison H. Buck, of Lake Mills, Wisconsin,
called upon me in the evening and was with me on the platform. The
lecture closed before ten o'clock, and I hurried over to McVicker's
Theatre, to see the last acts of "Mulberry Sellers," in which John T.
Raymond was playing his favorite role. The play was having quite a run,
and one heard at every turn the expression that had caught the popular
fancy--Mulberry's inimitable assurance, "There's millions in it!"
On the morning of the twelfth, I settled with George and Babcock. The
former went forward to Ottawa, and the latter to Joliet. It was my
intention at the time to push on to Omaha and Cheyenne as rapidly as
possible in the hope of passing Sherman, at the summit of the mountains,
before the snow was too deep to interrupt my journey. Eight general
halts had been decided upon between Boston and San Francisco, and these
were Albany, Buffalo, Toledo, Chicago, Omaha, Cheyenne, Ogden, and
Sacramento. I had now reached my fourth objective and felt the
importance of more haste and less leisure and sightseeing. My time,
therefore, in this great city was necessarily cut short.
The Exposition had just opened at the time I reached Chicago, and this
enabled me to see more in a few hours than I could have possibly seen in
any other way, and gave me quite an idea of the industries carried on in
Cook County.
I had never seen a finer local affair of the kind and was confident that
its object--the encouragement of agriculture and industry--would be
successfully accomplished. Anyone who sees the way in which Chicagoans
throw themselves into an undertaking of this sort, and in fact into
everything that has to do with the enterprise or prosperity of their
city, cannot but be struck with admiration.
Their irrepressible hopefulness, which effected such marvelous results
after the great conflagration of 1871, is a case in point, and those who
have been fortunate enough to see the transformation, are forced to
admit that the calamity was, after all, not so much to be deplored. Out
of the great waste in which the business portion was laid, handsome
buildings have sprung up with almost magic rapidity and auguring well
for the future of the "Windy City." Especially is this feature striking
in the vicinity of the City Hall, where finer edifices rose upon the old
ruins.
The very name of Chicago carries us back to the barbaric scenes of more
than two hundred years ago. Where the beautiful city now stands, those
days of long since past knew only a morass, an oozy, desolate stretch of
water-soaked swamp. There was a stream in this desolate region, the
banks of which, tradition tells us, were parched and cracked and
blackened by the frequent ravages of lightning. The early explorers
found on its banks an old stone mound, supposed to have been erected for
the sacrifice of human victims to propitiate the wrath of the Indian
deity Chekagua, the Thunder God.
On the oldest map of this region now extant, one published in 1684, the
little river itself bears the name Chekagua, and it may be, that our
fair Western metropolis of to-day was also a namesake of that same weird
divinity.
Others, claiming a more propitious christening, assert that Chicago was
a derivative from Chacaqua, the Indian term for the Divine River.
Or perhaps the city was named from the successive titles of the proud,
old Tamawas Chiefs.
"Not a monarch in all that proud Old World beyond the deep" bore more
haughtily his inherited title of Herod or Caesar than did one of these
Tamawas rulers exult in the ancient title of Chacaqua. If this theory of
the origin of Chicago's cognomen be accepted, then indeed can the "Windy
City" claim a royal title from the first.
In 1673, certain Catholic missionaries became interested in exploring
the Western Wilds. They were especially enthusiastic in regard to the
waterways of darkest America. The Mississippi they had heard of. Was it
possible that it ever could be made to join hands with the Great Lakes,
of which they had some knowledge?
So questioning, Fathers Marquette and Joliet took two canoes and five
men from the upper lake regions, and started to explore the charming
Valley of the Mississippi.
On their return they reached the mouth of the Illinois, where they were
informed of a new way of reaching Lake Michigan.
"Taking the Des Plaines branch, they were able to reach the water shed,
but eight feet higher than canoeable waters, crossing which they
launched into the stream which conducted them into the lake."
In so doing they made perhaps the greatest discovery of their
time--namely, a discovery of that supremely important portage which
insures Chicago's supremacy so long as American civilization exists.
In October, 1674, Marquette returned to this spot and erected the first
white man's dwelling which was ordained to be the beginning of the
great metropolis of the West. His little hut was both a home and a
sanctuary. Here he wintered, shooting turkey, deer and buffalo from his
door. Here in the spring, from toil and exposure, he died, mourned by
the savages whom he had taught.
Thus was Chicago begun in embryo.
There in that lagoon, filled with ooze, with its impassable fens, and
drifting sands, civilization and religion had their representative who
laid the foundation of the great Coming City bravely with teachings of
"The love of God, and the brotherhood of man."
We have good maps of 1688 which show us that a little later this lake
end of the water communication with Louisiana was made a military post,
called Fort Chicagon.
This place became at one time a favorite settlement for French
missionaries. However the spot is supposed to have been abandoned about
1763, after which date for about one hundred years white men avoided it.
In 1774 the site of Chicago, with all the surrounding country, became a
part of Virginia, being conquered by a military expedition from that
State.
In 1778 the region became known as County of Illinois, State of
Virginia.
After the close of the Revolutionary war, Virginia "divided herself by
the Ohio River," ceding all the territory beyond that boundary to the
United States for the "common benefit of all the people."
In 1795 the Indians also ceded to the general government any rights
which their tribes possessed to "one piece of land six miles square, at
the mouth of Chekajo River, emptying into the southwest end of Lake
Michigan, where a fort formerly stood." This extinguishment of the
Indian title in 1795, being in the nature of a quit-claim deed for
lands, is sometimes called the earliest real estate transaction in
Chicago.
Thus, she who was to become the "Queen City" of the West, made her
_debut_ into the Union, where, possibly, she may yet,
"The fairest of her daughters,"
rule supreme.
In the midst of all the down-town rush, at a point where noise and
confusion scarcely cease, one notices upon a decidedly modern building a
white stone tablet which informs the stranger that it was upon this spot
Fort Dearborn stood--the oldest landmark that remained to tell the tale
of the wilderness. In 1804 two block-houses were built here and a
subterranean passage made from the parade to the river, the whole
surrounded by a picket and furnished with three pieces of light
artillery, the object being "to supply the Indian wants and control the
Indian policy." The tribes of Pottawatomies overran the country round
about and with the little group of French and Canadian settlers made the
life of the isolated post. In 1809 Tecumseh marked it out as one of his
objects of vengeance, but fortunately other schemes occupied his
attention, and it remained in comparative security until the war of
1812. Then, when all the country was disturbed and the Indians were
making mischief everywhere, the commander of Fort Dearborn was betrayed
by the Pottawatomies and every vestige of a settlement destroyed.
It was not until 1818, after Fort Dearborn was again demolished, that
the pale face was courageous enough to establish his home at this point.
Nor was courage alone required, for the unfavorable position--on a
morass where vehicles invariably floundered in its black loam, and where
the air was necessarily unhealthy--was well known; but these first men
whose rude homes constituted the embryo city must have possessed to a
great degree that indomitable spirit which has become the very
foundation of Chicago.
Nine years from this time a most unfavorable report of the place was
sent to the Government and from this report the picture is called up of
a wretched, unclean and disreputable community. But this state of
affairs was not to last long. An event of importance took place here in
1833, when the United States commissioners and chiefs of the
Pottawatomie, Chippewa and Ottawa tribes met, that the former might
persuade the latter to give up more of their valuable land in Illinois
and Michigan and ultimately to relinquish it altogether. The exact
amount stipulated for was twenty millions of acres. Then population
increased, for one of the points agreed upon, along with the land, was
that the Indians should move west of the Mississippi. As a result,
Chicago became the centre of much speculating. Eastern capitalists were
interested, invested and lost heavily, but after the depression which
inevitably followed, the people went to work in earnest and brought the
town out of her trouble.
The one point of advantage that Chicago possessed--her possibilities as
a commercial post--was put to the test, and so rapidly did she advance,
that in 1842, after several remarkable advances, she sent out 600,000
bushels of wheat. She was already becoming a big cattle market, ranchmen
further west driving their stock here and helping to increase the
importance of the place as a centre of trade. At this time a canal was
in process of construction, to connect the Illinois and Chicago rivers,
thus making Chicago the centre for commerce between the Southwest and
East, and giving her the opportunity to extend her business from the
Gulf of Mexico to the Atlantic Ocean.
This was a splendid opening, and, with the co-operation of the railroads
which soon afterwards were extended to this point, the future prosperity
of the place was secured. It then only remained for Chicago to improve
her appearance and sanitary condition. This she did by having the
streets drained, filled up and graded. Local pride was manifesting
itself in various improvements and in private and public buildings, so
that by 1871 there was plenty of fuel for the great fire which laid so
much of the city waste.
The well-known origin of the conflagration was in a barn where "Mrs.
Scully's cow" innocently turned over a lighted lantern on some dry hay.
Soon the barn was in flames and the fire quickly spread to the lumber
yards along the river and from thence, the dry timber and wind favoring,
leaped along and licked up the homes on the North Side and the business
houses on the South Side.
The first stroke of the alarm sounded about nine o'clock in the evening
of October 8, 1871. "By eleven o'clock 100,000 people were hurrying
through the streets of the doomed city," spreading terror as they went.
"All over the city it was as light as day, and, in the remotest suburb
fine print was read by the glare of the conflagration three or four
miles away. By midnight nearly every vehicle in the city had been
pressed into service, and the frightened animals attached to them, in
many cases beyond control, went flying through the streets in all
directions, making a racket and a rumble which, coupled with the hoarse
shouts of men, the moaning of the gale, the roar of the conflagration
and the crash of falling buildings made a conglomeration of sight and
sound so appalling that none who saw it, or were of it, are ever likely
to forget. Few in the city took any notice of the break of day or the
rising of the sun. These occurrences seemed to make little difference in
the quantity of light. It was only now and then that Old Sol was visible
through the almost impenetrable smoke clouds. Nothing could be seen but
smoke, smoke, smoke, here and there interspersed by dark rolling masses
of flames. It was chaos come again. The earth was seemingly resolved
into its original elements."
At the end of three days, 300,000 people were destitute, 100,000 were
absolutely homeless, 200,000 were without water. The food supply was
doubtful for all. Robbers and incendiaries were at work. The gas was
gone--blown sky high. Churches, newspapers, police, telegraph offices
and public institutions were gone, while nineteen-twentieths of all the
mercantile stock in the city was consumed.
The tract destroyed was about a mile in breadth, and the losses were
roughly estimated at $200,000,000. Still, so alive was public sentiment
and hope, that at the time of my horseback journey, five years later,
scarcely a trace remained to tell the tale of this disaster, and that of
1874, except the records of history.
The story of just how Chicago proved herself a veritable Phoenix is a
very interesting one.
On the evening of October ninth, only twenty-four hours after the
commencement of the conflagration, a car-load of provisions arrived from
Milwaukee. By the next morning fifty car-loads had come to the afflicted
city. Donations of food and clothing kept pouring in until Chicago was
fairly sated. By October eleventh every person had food enough and each
one's pressing physical necessities were attended to. On the eleventh,
also, the Board of Trade met and resolved to require the honoring of all
contracts. On the twelfth the bankers met and resolved to pay all
depositors in full. The State sent an instalment of $3,000,000 with
which it then voted to re-imburse the city for its expenditures for the
canal enlargement, thus placing the city in the possession of
much-needed funds. From all over the civilized world came contributions
in money for the resurrected city. The amount so received within three
months after the conflagration being about $4,200,000.
The Relief Society alone built four thousand houses within five weeks of
those dreadful days when all seemed lost.
In two years after the fire, sixty-nine million, four hundred and
sixty-two thousand dollars were expended in erecting buildings of brick,
iron, and stone, while miles of humble frame houses were built, each
costing from $500 to $10,000.
Now, in place of the original city of wood, there stands by the Great
Lake, a city of stone and iron, able to vie with any other city in
growth, enterprise and wealth, bearing the distinction of being the
greatest grain and lumber market in the world, and boasting a
population, at the time of my journey, of about five hundred thousand.
From the Atlantic to the Pacific I rode into no city that made such an
impression of grandeur, business power and wealth as this youthful
"Queen of the Lakes."
Chicago's baptism of fire seemed but to prove an inspiration, goading
the city to more activity, to greater success.
The aggregate amount of business done in the city the year after the
fire--entirely excepting the building trades--greatly exceeds that done
the previous year, as the following figures will show. During this one
year the wholesale merchandise trade increased fifteen per cent.
Receipts of grain increased 8,425,885 bushels; receipts of live-stock by
872,866 head. Deposits in the city banks increased $1,910,000.
So much for the splendid pluck of Chicago.
The Pacific coast has Chicago for her smelting furnace, four large
silver mills being located here.
From the Pacific coast also, she has a considerable trade in the
productions of the Orient. In the first half of 1873, Chicago received
assignments of three-million pounds of tea, two million pounds of
coffee, eight hundred thousand pounds of foreign wool, and three hundred
and nine thousand, seven hundred and twenty four pounds of foreign silk.
Cotton came to her from the Pacific Isles, and nuts from South America.
Some idea of the commercial importance of Chicago's trade may be reached
by the amount of some of her exports by rail during 1872: namely, two
hundred and thirty-four million pounds of meat; eighty million, two
hundred and fifty thousand pounds of lard; one million, nine hundred and
sixty-five thousand whole swine; four hundred and eighty-four thousand
head of cattle, and one hundred and sixty-two thousand head of sheep.
I found Chicago justly proud of her public schools. It was roughly
estimated that in the city about fifty thousand children between six and
twelve years of age received daily instruction.
The graded system employed in these schools is so advanced, and has
proved so successful, that it has become a general model for all the
schools of the great Northwest.
More than that, it has been adopted, in part, by the Minister of
Education in France, and at the late Vienna Exposition a reward for
progress, in the shape of a beautiful medal, was awarded to the school
system of Chicago. Chicago claims for herself absolute superiority in
two particulars over all the public schools in the United States, the
"Hub" institutions of Boston not excepted. _First:_ Perfect discipline
is said to be attained without the use of corporal punishment. _Second:_
The musical culture of the school children is said to far excel anything
attained before on this Continent.
I found that the city contained a number of colleges, theological
seminaries and universities. The University of Chicago occupies one of
the most elegant and commodious buildings in the West.
The Dearborn Observatory, which is a part of this University, contains
the famous Clark Telescope, one of the most magnificent instruments of
its kind in existence.
The Chicago Theological Seminary is noted for the beauty of its chapel
and lecture rooms, and the extent and quality of its library. The
Academy of Science was incorporated in 1865. It has a vast building,
well stocked with natural curiosities.
The Historical Society organized in 1856 possesses a rare collection of
public and private documents, as well as a library of nearly one hundred
thousand volumes.
There are two hundred and thirty-eight houses of public worship in
Chicago; all of the great religious denominations, and perhaps some new
ones, being well represented. Differing as they do, they are, as some
one says: "Agreed on one point, namely, an uncommon sense of mutual
toleration and mutual love for each other, and a feeling of
Peace and sweet good will to all mankind."
There is a good deal of fine pulpit oratory to be heard every Sabbath in
Chicago; and the people of the surrounding country know it. It is no
uncommon thing for the Saturday night incoming trains to be crowded with
young men, some of them from homes one hundred miles away, who are yet
regular attendants at the religious services of the city. Having enjoyed
these to the full, the Sunday evening sleeping cars are again crowded
with the same youthful army, very sleepy, but very happy, making the
return trip.
Chicago is justly proud of her streets. About eighty feet wide, and
meeting at right angles, they present a beautiful object lesson to some
of her elder Eastern sisters.
The city is said to contain thirteen million dollars' worth of hotel
property. Perhaps no structure for which any part of this immense sum
has been expended is more beautiful and remarkable than the Palmer
House. This building is said to contain more bricks than any two hotels
on the Continent, and more iron than most of them put together. The
flooring contains ninety thousand square feet of marble tiling laid in
massive beds of cement. The beams are laid in beds of cement also.
The immense carriage court is entered by three _porte cocheres_. There
are said to be one hundred miles of electric bell wires in the building.
The magnificent office is twenty-four feet in height. It is wainscoted
with Italian marble, studded with panels of remarkably rich rose
brocatelle marble, and with many natural mosaics of rare and curious
beauty. The wainscoting of the counter is made of the same exquisite
material. The grand staircase is made of the same.
Mr. C. M. Palmer travelled extensively for some time, before building,
throughout Europe, making an especial study of continental hotels, with
a determination to surpass the excellences of them all in his beloved
Chicago.
Mr. Palmer's spirit seems to be characteristic of all true Chicagoans.
To have their city excel, to have it something more extensive, more
impressive, more famous, grander, nobler than any other place which the
sun shines on, this is their hearts' desire. Some one said to a great
man:
"What paramount word of advice would you give to young men?"
The answer came,
"Aspire."
"What would your next advice be?"
"Aspire."
"But what then?"
"Aspire."
Chicago believes in that advice. She has always believed in it. Nay,
more, she has lived it.