not only as a relief, as easily accessible recreation-grounds for the
inhabitants in every part of the city, but as an element in society
life. These parks, which I have already named, contain 1742 acres.
The two south parks, connected so as to be substantially one, have 957
acres. Their great connecting boulevards are interfered with somewhat by
railway-tracks, and none of them, except Lincoln, can be reached without
crossing tracks on which locomotives run, yet, as has been said, the
most important of them are led to by good driving-roads from the heart
of the city. They have excellent roads set apart for equestrians as
well as for driving. These facilities induce the keeping of horses, the
setting up of fine equipages, and a display for which no other city has
better opportunity. This cannot but have an appreciable effect upon the
growth of luxury and display in this direction. Indeed, it is already
true that the city keeps more private carriages—for the pleasure not
only of the rich, but of the well-to-do—in proportion to its population,
than any other large city I know. These broad thoroughfares, kept free
from traffic, furnish excellent sleighing when it does not exist in the
city streets generally, and in the summer unequalled avenues for the
show of wealth and beauty and style. In a few years the turnouts on the
Grand Boulevard and the Lincoln Park drive will be worth going far to
see for those who admire—and who does not? for, the world over, wealth
has no spectacle more attractive to all classes—fine horses and the
splendor of moving equipages. And here is no cramped mile or two for
parade, like most of the fashionable drives of the world, but space
inviting healthful exercise as well as display. These broad avenues and
park outlooks, with ample ground-room, stimulate architectural rivalry,
and this opportunity for driving and riding and being on view cannot but
affect very strongly the social tone. The foresight of the busy men who
planned this park system is already vindicated. The public appreciate
their privileges. On fair days the driving avenues are thronged. One
Sunday afternoon in January, when the sleighing was good, some one
estimated that there were as many as ten thousand teams flying up and
down Michigan avenue and the Grand Boulevard. This was, of course, an
over-estimate, but the throng made a ten-thousand impression on the
mind. Perhaps it was a note of Western independence that a woman was
here and there seen “speeding” a fast horse, in a cutter, alone.
I suppose that most of these people had been to church in the morning,
for Chicago, which does everything it puts its hand to with tremendous
energy, is a church-going city, and I believe presents some contrast to
Cincinnati in this respect. Religious, mission, and Sunday-school work
is very active, churches are many, whatever the liberality of the creeds
of a majority of them, and there are several congregations of over two
thousand people. One vast music-hall and one theatre are thronged Sunday
after Sunday with organized, vigorous, worshipful congregations. Besides
these are the Sunday meetings for ethical culture and Christian science.
It is true that many of the theatres are open as on week-days, and there
is a vast foreign population that takes its day of rest in idleness or
base-ball and garden amusements, but the prevailing aspect of the city
is that of Sunday observance. There is a good deal of wholesome New
England in its tone. And it welcomes any form of activity—orthodoxy,
liberalism, revivals, ethical culture.
A special interest in Chicago at the moment is because it is
forming—full of contrasts and of promise, palaces and shanties side by
side. Its forces are gathered and accumulating, but not assimilated.
What a mass of crude, undigested material it has! In one region on the
west side are twenty thousand Bohemians and Poles; the street signs
are all foreign and of unpronounceable names—a physically strong,
but mentally and morally brutal, people for the most part; the adults
generally do not speak English, and claning as they do, they probably
never will. There is no hope that this generation will be intelligent
American citizens, or be otherwise than the political prey of
demagogues. But their children are in the excellent public schools, and
will take in American ideas and take on American ways. Still, the mill
has about as much grist as it can grind at present.
Social life is, speaking generally, as unformed, unselected, as the
city—that is, more fluid and undetermined than in Eastern large cities.
That is merely to say, however, that while it is American, it is young.
When you come to individuals, the people in society are largely from
the East, or have Eastern connections that determine their conduct. For
twenty years the great universities, Harvard, Yale, Amherst, Princeton,
and the rest, have been pouring in their young men here. There is no
better element in the world, and it is felt in every pulse of the town.
Young couples marry and come here from every sort of Eastern circle. But
the town has grown so fast, and so many new people have come into the
ability suddenly to spend money in fine houses and equipages, that the
people do not know each other. You may drive past miles of good houses,
with a man who has grown up with the town, who cannot tell you who any
of the occupants of the houses are. Men know each other on change, in
the courts, in business, and are beginning to know each other in clubs,
but society has not got itself sorted out and arranged, or discovered
its elements. This is a metropolitan trait, it is true, but the
condition is socially very different from what it is in New York or
Boston; the small village associations survive a little yet, struggling
against the territorial distances, but the social mass is still
unorganized, although “society” is a prominent feature in the
newspapers. Of course it is understood that there are people “in
society,” and dinners, and all that, in nowise different from the same
people and events the world over.
A striking feature of the town is “youth,” visible in social life as
well as in business. An Eastern man is surprised to see so many young
men in responsible positions, at the head, or taking the managing oar,
in great moneyed institutions, in railway corporations, and in societies
of charity and culture. A young man, graduate of the city high-school,
is at the same time president of a prominent bank, president of the
Board of Trade, and president of the Art Institute. This youthful spirit
must be contagious, for apparently the more elderly men do not permit
themselves to become old, either in the business or the pleasures of
life. Everything goes on with youthful vim and spirit.
Next to the youth, and perhaps more noticeable, the characteristic
feature of Chicago is money-making, and the money power is as obtrusive
socially as on change. When we come to speak of educational and
intellectual tendencies, it will be seen how this spirit is being at
once utilized and mitigated; but for the moment money is the recognized
power. How could it be otherwise? Youth and energy did not flock here
for pleasure or for society, but simply for fortune. And success in
money-getting was about the only one considered. And it is still that
by which Chicago is chiefly known abroad, by that and by a certain
consciousness of it which is noticed. And as women reflect social
conditions most vividly, it cannot be denied that there is a type known
in Europe and in the East as the Chicago young woman, capable rather
than timid, dashing rather than retiring, quite able to take care of
herself. But this is not by any means an exhaustive account of the
Chicago woman of to-day.
While it must be said that the men, as a rule, are too much absorbed
in business to give heed to anything else, yet even this statement will
need more qualification than would appear at first, when we come to
consider the educational, industrial, and reformatory projects. And
indeed a veritable exception is the Literary Club, of nearly two hundred
members, a mingling of business and professional men, who have fine
rooms in the Art Building, and meet weekly for papers and discussions.
It is not in every city that an equal number of busy men will give
the time to this sort of intellectual recreation. The energy here is
superabundant; in whatever direction it is exerted it is very effective;
and it may be said, in the language of the street, that if the men of
Chicago seriously take hold of culture, they will make it hum.
Still it remains true here, as elsewhere in the United States, that
women are in advance in the intellectual revival. One cannot yet
predict what will be the result of this continental furor for literary,
scientific, and study clubs—in some places in the East the literary wave
has already risen to the height of the scientific study of whist—but for
the time being Chicago women are in the full swing of literary life.
Mr. Browning says that more of his books are sold in Chicago than in any
other American city. Granting some affectation, some passing fashion, in
the Browning, Dante, and Shakespeare clubs, I think it is true that
the Chicago woman, who is imbued with the energy of the place, is more
serious in her work than are women in many other places; at least she
is more enthusiastic. Her spirit is open, more that of frank admiration
than of criticism of both literature and of authors. This carries her
not only further into the heart of literature itself, but into a genuine
enjoyment of it—wanting almost to some circles at the East, who are
too cultivated to admire with warmth or to surrender themselves to the
delights of learning, but find their avocation rather in what may be
called literary detraction, the spirit being that of dissection of
authors and books, much as social gossips pick to pieces the characters
of those of their own set. And one occupation is as good as the other.
Chicago has some reputation for beauty, for having pretty, dashing,
and attractive women; it is as much entitled to be considered for its
intelligent women who are intellectually agreeable. Comparisons are very
unsafe, but it is my impression that there is more love for books in
Chicago than in New York society, and less of the critical, nil admirari
spirit than in Boston.
It might be an indication of no value (only of the taste of individuals)
that books should be the principal “favors” at a fashionable german, but
there is a book-store in the city whose evidence cannot be set aside
by reference to any freak of fashion. McClurg’s book-store is a very
extensive establishment in all departments—publishing, manufacturing,
retailing, wholesaling, and importing. In some respects it has not its
equal in this country. The book-lover, whether he comes from London
or New York, will find there a stock, constantly sold and constantly
replenished, of books rare, curious, interesting, that will surprise
him. The general intelligence that sustains a retail shop of this
variety and magnitude must be considerable, and speaks of a taste for
books with which the city has not been credited; but the cultivation,
the special love of books for themselves, which makes possible this rich
corner of rare and imported books at McClurg’s, would be noticeable
in any city, and women as well as men in Chicago are buyers and
appreciators of first editions, autograph and presentation copies, and
books valued because they are scarce and rare.
Chicago has a physical peculiarity that radically affects its social
condition, and prevents its becoming homogeneous. It has one business
centre and three distinct residence parts, divided by the branching
river. Communication between the residence sections has to be made
through the business city, and is further hindered by the bridge
crossings, which cause irritating delays the greater part of the year.
The result is that three villages grew up, now become cities in size,
and each with a peculiar character. The north side was originally
the more aristocratic, and having fewer railways and a
less-occupied-with-business lake front, was the more agreeable as a
place of residence, always having the drawback of the bridge crossings
to the business part. After the great fire, building lots were cheaper
there than on the south side within reasonable distance of the active
city. It has grown amazingly, and is beautified by stately bouses and
fine architecture, and would probably still be called the more desirable
place of residence. But the south side has two great advantages—easy
access to the business centre and to the great southern parks and
pleasure-grounds. This latter would decide many to live there. The vast
west side, with its lumber-yards and factories, its foreign settlements,
and its population outnumbering the two other sections combined, is
practically an unknown region socially to the north side and south side.
The causes which produced three villages surrounding a common business
centre will continue to operate. The west side will continue to expand
with cheap houses, or even elegant residences on the park avenues—it
is the glory of Chicago that such a large proportion of its houses are
owned by their occupants, and that there are few tenement rookeries, and
even few gigantic apartment houses—over a limitless prairie; the north
side will grow in increasing beauty about Lincoln Park; and the south
side will more and more gravitate with imposing houses about the
attractive south parks. Thus the two fashionable parts of the city,
separated by five, eight, and ten miles, will develop a social life of
their own, about as distinct as New York and Brooklyn. It remains to be
seen which will call the other “Brooklyn.” At present these divisions
account for much of the disorganization of social life, and prevent that
concentration which seems essential to the highest social development.
In this situation Chicago is original, as she is in many other ways, and
it makes one of the interesting phases in the guesses at her future.
X.—CHICAGO [Second Paper.]
The country gets its impression of Chicago largely from the Chicago
newspapers. In my observation, the impression is wrong. The press is
able, vigorous, voluminous, full of enterprise, alert, spirited; its
news columns are marvellous in quantity, if not in quality; nowhere
are important events, public meetings, and demonstrations more fully,
graphically, and satisfactorily reported; it has keen and competent
writers in several departments of criticism—theatrical, musical, and
occasionally literary; independence, with less of personal bias than
in some other cities; the editorial pages of most of the newspapers are
bright, sparkling, witty, not seldom spiced with knowing drollery, and
strong, vivid, well-informed and well-written, in the discussion of
public questions, with an allowance always to be made for the “personal
equation” in dealing with particular men and measures—as little
provincial in this respect as any press in the country.
But it lacks tone, elevation of purpose; it represents to the world
the inferior elements of a great city rather than the better, under a
mistaken notion in the press and the public, not confined to Chicago,
as to what is “news.” It cannot escape the charge of being highly
sensational; that is, the elevation into notoriety of mean persons and
mean events by every rhetorical and pictorial device. Day after day the
leading news, the most displayed and most conspicuous, will be of vulgar
men and women, and all the more expanded if it have in it a spice
of scandal. This sort of reading creates a diseased appetite, which
requires a stronger dose daily to satisfy; and people who read it lose
their relish for the higher, more decent, if less piquant, news of the
world. Of course the Chicago newspapers are not by any means alone in
this course; it is a disease of the time. Even New York has recently
imitated successfully this feature of what is called “Western
journalism.”
But it is largely from the Chicago newspapers that the impression has
gone abroad that the city is preeminent in divorces, pre-eminent in
scandals, that its society is fast, that it is vulgar and pretentious,
that its tone is “shoddy,” and its culture a sham. The laws of Illinois
in regard to divorces are not more lax than in some Eastern States,
and divorces are not more numerous there of residents (according to
population) than in some Eastern towns; but while the press of the
latter give merely an official line to the court separations, the
Chicago papers parade all the details, and illustrate them with
pictures. Many people go there to get divorces, because they avoid
scandal at their homes, and because the Chicago courts offer unusual
facilities in being open every month in the year. Chicago has a young,
mobile population, an immense foreign brutal element. I watched for
some weeks the daily reports of divorces and scandals. Almost without
exception they related to the lower, not to say the more vulgar,
portions of social life. In several years the city has had, I believe,
only two causes célèbres in what is called good society—a remarkable
record for a city of its size. Of course a city of this magnitude and
mobility is not free from vice and immorality and fast living; but I
am compelled to record the deliberate opinion, formed on a good deal of
observation and inquiry, that the moral tone in Chicago society, in all
the well-to-do industrious classes which give the town its distinctive
character, is purer and higher than in any other city of its size with
which I am acquainted, and purer than in many much smaller. The tone is
not so fast, public opinion is more restrictive, and women take, and are
disposed to take, less latitude in conduct. This was not my impression
from the newspapers. But it is true not only that social life holds
itself to great propriety, but that the moral atmosphere is uncommonly
pure and wholesome. At the same time, the city does not lack gayety
of movement, and it would not be called prudish, nor in some respects
conventional.
It is curious, also, that the newspapers, or some of them, take pleasure
in mocking at the culture of the town. Outside papers catch this spirit,
and the “culture” of Chicago is the butt of the paragraphers. It is a
singular attitude for newspapers to take regarding their own city. Not
long ago Mr. McClurg published a very neat volume, in vellum, of the
fragments of Sappho, with translations. If the volume had appeared in
Boston it would have been welcomed and most respectfully received in
Chicago. But instead of regarding it as an evidence of the growing
literary taste of the new town, the humorists saw occasion in it for
exquisite mockery in the juxtaposition of Sappho with the modern ability
to kill seven pigs a minute, and in the cleverest and most humorous
manner set all the country in a roar over the incongruity. It goes
without saying that the business men of Chicago were not sitting up
nights to study the Greek poets in the original; but the fact was
that there was enough literary taste in the city to make the volume
a profitable venture, and that its appearance was an evidence of
intellectual activity and scholarly inclination that would be creditable
to any city in the land. It was not at all my intention to intrude my
impressions of a newspaper press so very able and with such magnificent
opportunities as that of Chicago, but it was unavoidable to mention one
of the causes of the misapprehension of the social and moral condition
of the city.
The business statistics of Chicago, and the story of its growth, and the
social movement, which have been touched on in a previous paper, give
only a half-picture of the life of the town. The prophecy for its
great and more hopeful future is in other exhibitions of its incessant
activity. My limits permit only a reference to its churches, extensive
charities (which alone would make a remarkable and most creditable
chapter), hospitals, medical schools, and conservatories of music. Club
life is attaining metropolitan proportions. There is on the south side
the Chicago, the Union League, the University, the Calumet, and on the
north side the Union—all vigorous, and most of them housed in
superb buildings of their own. The Women’s Exchange is a most
useful organization, and the Ladies’ Fortnightly ranks with the best
intellectual associations in the country. The Commercial Club, composed
of sixty representative business men in all departments, is a most vital
element in the prosperity of the city. I cannot dwell upon these. But
at least a word must be said about the charities, and some space must be
given to the schools.
The number of solicitors for far West churches and colleges who pass by
Chicago and come to Xew York and New England for money have created
the impression that Chicago is not a good place to go for this purpose.
Whatever may be the truth of this, the city does give royally for
private charities, and liberally for mission work beyond her borders. It
is estimated by those familiar with the subject that Chicago contributes
for charitable and religious purposes, exclusive of the public charities
of the city and county, not less than five millions of dollars annually.
I have not room to give even the partial list of the benevolent
societies that lies before me, but beginning with the Chicago Relief and
Aid, and the Armour Mission, and going down to lesser organizations, the
sum annually given by them is considerably over half a million dollars.
The amount raised by the churches of various denominations for religious
purposes is not less than four millions yearly. These figures prove
the liberality, and I am able to add that the charities are most
sympathetically and intelligently administered.
Inviting, by its opportunities for labor and its facilities for
business, comers from all the world, a large proportion of whom are
aliens to the language and institutions of America, Chicago is making
a noble fight to assimilate this material into good citizenship.
The popular schools are liberally sustained, intelligently directed,
practise the most advanced and inspiring methods, and exhibit excellent
results. I have not the statistics of 1887; but in 1886, when the
population was only 703,000, there were 129,000 between the ages of six
and sixteen, of whom 83,000 were enrolled as pupils, and the average
daily attendance in schools was over 65,000. Besides these there were
about 43,000 in private schools. The census of 1886 reports only 34
children between the ages of six and twenty-one who could neither read
nor write. There were 91 school buildings owned by the city, and two
rented. Of these, three are high-schools, one in each division, the
newest, on the west side, having 1000 students. The school attendance
increases by a large per cent, each year. The principals of the
high-schools were men; of the grammar and primary schools, 35 men and
42 women. The total of teachers was 1440, of whom 56 were men. By the
census of 1886 there were 106,929 children in the city under six years
of age. No kindergartens are attached to the public schools, but the
question of attaching them is agitated. In the lower grades, however,
the instruction is by object lessons, drawing, writing, modelling, and
exercises that train the eye to observe, the tongue to describe, and
that awaken attention without weariness. The alertness of the scholars
and the enthusiasm of the teachers were marked. It should be added that
German is extensively taught in the grammar schools, and that the number
enrolled in the German classes in 1886 was over 28,000. There is some
public sentiment for throwing out German from the public schools, and
generally for restricting studies in the higher branches.
The argument against this is that very few of the children, and the
majority of those girls, enter the high-schools; the boys are taken
out early for business, and get no education afterwards. In 1885 were
organized public elementary evening schools (which had, in 1886, 6709
pupils), and an evening high-school, in which book-keeping, stenography,
mechanical drawing, and advanced mathematics were taught. The Sehool
Committee also have in charge day schools for the education of deaf and
dumb children.