No party or parties, besides the Editor and his contributors, are responsible for the sentiments expressed in the Evangelical Repository. The Contributors, besides, are responsible only for their own articles; and the Editor is not to be regarded as endorsing every detail of sentiment expressed by the Contributors. The Editor holds himself responsible for all articles which have no names or UNFORTUNATELY Dr. Morison and myself had only one full day to spend in Chicago, or rather as much of a day as was available between breakfast time and six o'clock in the evening. We had hurried north with the view of escaping from the heat of summer as experienced throughout the States of the great American continent, and had determined, with this view, instead of proceeding to Detroit by railway (an easy journey of less than 300 miles), to sail by the steamer which left Chicago on Wednesday evening at six o'clock, and which, proceeding northwards to the head of Lake Michigan, would pass through the Straits of Mackinaw, and then down Lake. Huron, reaching Detroit on Saturday night. On making inquiry at the bar of the Commercial Hotel, on Wednesday morning, we found that the steam vessel "Japan" was advertised to sail on the evening of that day, and, consequently, we concluded that our stay in Chicago must needs be brief, and that if we wished to get a kind of bird's-eye view of the great capital of the north-west, we would require to be as expeditious as possible. It was well for us that our friends, Rev. Mr. and Mrs. Melville, had come round by Chicago on their way home from the General Assembly to Western Pennsylvania; for their nephew, Mr. Robertson, to whom they introduced us, being engaged in business there, was able to conduct us at once to visit the objects of the greatest interest. Mr. No. 9. A Vol. 3. Robertson proposed that, in the first place, we should repair to Lincoln Park, on the shore of the Lake, both because it was in itself one of the principal sights in the city, and also because we would, on our way, get a good idea of the whole north quarter of Chicago, in which it was situated. And here, the very expression "north quarter" or "northern division," compels me to give my readers some general idea of the topography of the place. Every one knows that this great city is built close upon the shore of Lake Michigan, on its western side, and near its southern end. But the Chicago River, as it is called, which enters the lake just about the centre of the shore line, flows through the whole city in two circuitous branches. It is along this river, as I mentioned in last chapter, that the unceasing fleet of merchantmen proceeds, which connects the commerce of the St. Lawrence with that of the Caribbean Sea. But, inasmuch as the two branches of this river, bearing on their bosoms all kinds of steam boats, canal boats, ships, barges, and timber rafts, flow through the busiest part of Chicago, in a kind of circular sweep, from end to end of it, wherever you go, throughout the city, you are always coming into contact with this ubiquitous stream, and are always being arrested in your course. For in almost every street there is a bridge required; and this bridge must needs be a draw-bridge, since every now and then ships require to pass through. Thus, from morning to night there is an unceasing competition, in all the principal thoroughfares, between the ships and the citizens the ships wishing the bridges to get out of the road, that they may get through, and the citizens wishing the ships to get out of the road, that they may pass over the bridges. It would not do for the citizens to get angry at the ships, for what would they be without their commerce? Nor would it do for the ships to get angry at the citizens, for how could they get their freights of timber or of grain unless these eager, anxious men went every day to their offices, and toiled among their books? The result is a kind of compromise between the street and the river, according to which the bridge is down the one ten minutes for the people, and up the next ten minutes for the vessels. That my readers may be able to understand the peculiar scene which is witnessed several times every hour, and in all parts of this great lake city, I must explain that the bridges are constructed in the following manner: They are, of course, of wood, and are swung on a pivot, which is securely fastened in the middle of the stream. For the ten minutes during which the street reigns supreme, the bridge spans the river from side to side, and fits in so nicely that you would never suspect it to be moveable, if uninitiated in the secrets of Chicago. But, lo! the landsman's ten minutes are up; and a whole line of vessels, of all sorts and sizes, stands clamorous for admission through the wooden gates. The signal is given; the great bridge begins to swing on its pivot, the one end moving up the stream, and the other end moving down. Now it has reached the end of its tether, and remains fixed-a long wooden line, in the centre of the river, and allowing free course for the ships to pass up or down, on either side. Luckless was the wayfaring man who had rashly set his foot on the bridge just before it began to move, and who has not had time to reach the other side before the connection was cut with the shore; for he is made a pilloried prisoner for the next ten minutes, and is compelled to occupy an airy standpoint in mid-stream, very frequently tantalized by the laughter both of the sailors and the citizens on either side. I must confess that I cut this ridiculous figure myself, on this the only day which I spent in Chicago; and that the reason why I am able to describe the scene so well, is that the pontal penance which I paid impressed it indelibly on my recollection. But, see! the statutory ten minutes have again transpired; the dominion of the river has once more ended, and that of the road is about to begin. What a crowd of foot passengers waits to get across! And what a long line of carriages, cabs, and carts forthwith passes along the bridge whenever it spans the water. It was a phenomenon, the like of which I had never seen in any eastern or western city I had ever visited; and it struck me that the citizens of Chicago must needs be put to a great deal of daily inconvenience by that continual interruption to their street traffic. I observed foot passengers running at full speed, to be in time before the bridge swung round, and cabmen, too, hurrying forward their vehicles, but doomed to disappointment and delay till the way would be clear again. I was not surprised to learn that the city corporation had determined to tunnel below the river at all these points of transit, and thus dispense with the bridges. Indeed, two or three of these tunnels have already been constructed; and, if I mistake not, the lumbering vehicle in which we drove from the St. Louis Railway to the Commercial Hotel, at some point of its progress, passed through one of them. Without doubt, when the tunnel programme is all executed, the hitherto oft-detained citizens of Chicago must heave a sigh of relief, and be disposed to vote a civic statue in honour of the civil engineer who planned the sub-aqueous and subterranean paths. While we are being conveyed in the tramway car along one of the principal thoroughfares of the northern division of the city, let us look around, and endeavour to form some estimate of the size and wonderful progress of this great mercantile emporium. Its present population, municipal and suburban, is computed at 500,000. Yet, in 1830, Chicago consisted of twelve houses and three adjacent residences. In 1843 its population had increased to 7,580; in 1855, to 80,023; in 1865 (within the municipality proper), to 178,539. Its chief articles of commerce are grain and timber-the latter being called "lumber," as I have already remarked, all over the American continent; and the statistics of these imports and exports are truly astounding. I say imports and exports, because there is, perhaps, no commercial city in the world that is so completely a mere mart of transit-that is, of receipt and transmission-as Chicago. From its peculiar position, both as a railway and lake centre, the grain and the timber of the north-west are continually being poured into it, but only to be sent eastward, either to the American seaboard, or to Europe; while, as already explained, Canadian shipments are constantly arriving for the Southern States, per the Mississippi canal, or vice versa. In 1872 the grain receipts in Chicago were actually 89,000,000 bushels; while in 1869 there were received 1,183,659,283 feet of lumber, besides 900,000,000 pieces of laths and shingles. But perhaps the most remarkable fact of all, as proving the energy and prosperity of Chicago, is the rapidity with which it sprung, phoenix-like, from the ashes of the great conflagration of October, 1871. By that dread calamity a total area of nearly three and a half square miles, including streets, was consumed. The number of buildings destroyed was 17,450, and the number of persons rendered homeless was 98,500. Yet, when we visited the place, in the month of June, 1874, no traces of the fire were visible; the warehouses and hotels had been built on a grander scale than ever; the rate of progress in the population had not been sensibly retarded; nay, it appeared as if the fires through which she had passed, like the fires of affliction in which the Christian is purified, had only enabled rejuvenescent Chicago to start, from a fresh and more secure basis, on a more glorious career than ever. As we drove along this northern division of the city, with its rectangular streets and squares, the only house that remained of what may be called the old dispensation, in that quarter, was pointed out to us. It alone of all its fellows had escaped burning. It looked like the solitary soldier that had survived a battle, or the solitary sailor who had survived the shipwreck. Carefully will it be preserved in time to come as an interesting relic, in that district, of the Chicago that had been. |