ST. PAUL AND MINNEAPOLIS IN 1836 AND 1896--FATHER HENNEPIN.
As St. Paul, Minnesota, is our starting point, we will pause for a little
and cultivate the acquaintance of her people. The picture represents St.
Paul and Minneapolis about as we suppose they were previous to 1838,
and before a white man gazed upon the natural beauties of our great
country. In the picture you see "one of the first families," in fact it
is the first family, and a healthy, dirty-looking lot they are. They had
evidently heard that a stranger had "come to town" and the neighbors came
in to lend a hand in "receiving" the distinguished guest. The Indian kid
on the left hand, with his hair a la Paderewski, was probably playing
marbles with young Dirty-Face-Afraid-of-Soap-and-Water in the back yard,
when his mother whooped for him to come. He looks mad about it. They all
have on their Sunday clothes and are speculating as to whether it is
best to get acquainted with the forerunner of civilization or not. Their
liberties had never been abridged. The Indians came and went at will,
never dreaming that the day was approaching when civilization would force
them to "move on." As early as 1819 white people were in Minnesota, 'tis
true, but this was when Fort St. Anthony was first garrisoned.
[Illustration: One of the "First Families" of St. Paul in
1835.]
Anterior to this, however, a zealous Franciscan priest, Father Hennepin,
ascended the Mississippi, by oar, impelled on by its beautiful scenery,
and in August, 1680, he stood upon the brink of the river near where Fort
Snelling now is, and erected the cross of his church and probably was the
first to proclaim to the red man the glad tidings of "Peace on earth,
good will to man." He pointed them to the cross as the emblem of liberty
from superstition, but they in their ignorance did not heed his peaceful
coming, but made him their captive, holding him thus for six months,
during which time he so completely gained their confidence as to cause
them to liberate him, and his name is still remembered reverentially by
them.
Father Hennepin named the Falls of St. Anthony after his patron saint,
and was the first white man to look upon its beauties and listen to the
music of Minnehaha, as her crystal water rolled over the cliffs and went
rippling through the grasses and flowers on its merry way to the bosom of
the "Father of Waters."
Minnehaha, beautiful in sunshine and in shadow; in rain-shower and in
snow-storm--for ages has your laughter greeted the ear of the ardent
Indian lover. Here Hiawatha, outstripping all competitors in his
love-race, wooed his Minnehaha and in triumph carried her away to his
far-off Ojibway home. The Indians loved this spot and as they camped upon
its banks and smoked the peace pipe "as a signal to the nations," dreamed
only of peace and plenty. The Great Spirit was good to them; but the evil
day was approaching, invisible yet, then a speck on the horizon, but
the cloud grew and the "pale face" was among them. Sorrowfully they bid
farewell forever to their beautiful "Laughing Water."
In these early days it was almost beyond the comprehension of man that
two populous cities should spring up as have St. Paul and Minneapolis,
and Pierre Parrant, the first settler at St. Paul, little dreamed that
the "Twin Cities," with a population variously estimated at from 200,000
to 225,000, would greet the eye of the astonished beholder in 1896. They
sprang into existence and grew apace; they met with reverses, as all
cities do, but the indomitable energy of the men who started out to carve
for themselves a fortune, achieved their end, and their children are now
enjoying the fruits of their labor.
There is no city in America that can boast an avenue equal to Summit
avenue in St. Paul, with its many beautiful residences ranging in cost
from $25,000 to $350,000. Notably among these palatial homes is that
of James J. Hill, the railroad king of the Northwest. His is a palace
set on a hill, built in the old English style, situated on an eminence
overlooking the river and the bluffs beyond. The grounds without and
the art treasures within are equal to those of any home in our country,
and such as are found only in homes of culture where money in plenty is
always at hand to gratify every desire.
The avenue winds along the bluff, and the outlook up and down the river
calls forth exclamations of delight from those who can see beauty in our
natural American scenery. In the springtime, when the trees are in their
fresh green garb, and budding forth, and in the autumn when the days
are hazy and short, when the sere of months has painted the foliage in
variegated colors, and it begins to fall, the picture as unfolded to the
beholder standing on the bluffs is delighting, enchanting.
The urban and interurban facilities for transport from city to city
are the best in the world, and is the successful result of years of
observation and laborious effort on the part of the honorable Thomas
Lowry, the street railway magnate; and the many bridges spanning the
"Father of Waters" at either end of the line give evidence of the ability
of the business men of the two cities to compass anything within reason.
Minneapolis, the "flour city," noted for its broad streets and palatial
homes nestling among the trees; its magnificent public library building
with its well-filled shelves of book treasures; its expensive and
beautiful public buildings and business blocks; its far-famed exposition
building, and its great cluster of mammoth flouring mills that astonish
the world, are the pride of every Minnesotian. Even the "Father of
Waters" laughs as he leaps over the rocks and, winding in and out, drives
this world of machinery that grinds up wheat--not by the car-load, but
by the train-load, and--"Pillsbury's Best"--long since a national pride,
has become a familiar international brand because it can be found in
all the great marts of the world. What a transformation since 1638!
Father Hennepin, no doubt, looks down from the battlements of Heaven in
amazement at the change; and the poor Indians, who had been wont to roam
about here, unhindered, have long since, in sorrow, fled away nearer
to the setting sun; but alas! he returned and left the imprint of his
aroused savage nature.