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PENN
|^==7ffROAD-NFW ^OR:ZIt^CHICAGO.
PENNSYLVANIA RAILROAD
h
TO THE
Columbian Exposition,
WITH DESCRIPTIVE NOTES OF THE CITIES OF
NEW YORK, WASHINGTON,
PHILADELPHIA, CHICAGO,
AND A COMPLETE DESCRIPTION OF THE
Exposition Grounds and Buildings,
With Maps and Illustrations.
PHILADELPHIA :
Pennsylvania Railroad Company.
1802.
r46t
KNTFRHn, AcroRniN'f; to Ac i' riF Congress, in thk \'ear l'^w-^ kn
THE PKXXSVIAAMA RAILROAD COMPANY.
In ihk OrKicK ok i hk Librarian of Congress, ai Washing ion, I). C
«, /'hilaUelphia. I'u.
Pennsylvania Railroad
COLUMBIAN EXPOSITION,
NEW YORK.
IRE ISLAND Light has been sighted and passed ;
the twin lights on the highlands of Navesink have
come into view, and now Sandy Hook, with its
waste of sand, its light-house, and its embry-
otic fortilications is lying off to your left.
Ahead of you is the quarantine ship, from
, -, \\hich all \'essels arri\'ing from infected ports
_ ,- are boarded, and three miles beyond you can
see the quarantine stations on Swinburne and
^; — -^^' Hoffman Islands. Now the shores of Long
w;^^^^^Ll "' Island on your right and Staten Island on your
-~-— -- -^^=- ]gfl- begin gradually to converge, and a few min-
utes later you find yourself within what is known
as the Narro^\•s, the passage-way from the outer ^'estibule, or
lower bay, into the beautiful and capacious harbor of New York.
The health officer and the customs inspector haA'e come
aboard, and the latter is distributing blank forms upon which you
are expected to make a statement of any dutiable goods that you
may have among your luggage, the term dutiable applying to
such articles as are not intended for your own personal use.
(3)
While this formaHty is being gone through with the harbor forti-
fications— Fort Wadsworth, Fort Hamilton, and Fort Lafayette —
are left behind, the Narrows widen into New York Bay, and the
Island of Manhattan, upon which is located the metropolis of
America, lies directly in front of the steamer.
Bartholdi's colossal statue, ' ' Liberty Enlightening the World,
the largest statue ever constructed, rises to a height of something
like three hundred feet above Liberty Lsland, which occupies an
imposing position in the middle of the harbor, and you recall, as
you gaze upon its gigantic proportions, that it was a gift of France
to the United States to commemorate the good-will that has e\^er
existed between the two nations. Through the mist that over-
hangs the water the East River Bridge, with its two sky-scrap-
ing towers and its sixteen hundred feet of space between — the
largest suspension bridge in the \\'orld — looms up in the dis-
tance ; Governor's Island, a most important feature in the
harbor defense of New York, is now on your right, and Ellis
Island, the landing-place for immigrants, has come into sight
on your left, lying between Liberty Island and the New Jersey
shore.
Now it is that you gather your first impressions of the chief
city of the new world, the towering buildings, cupolas, and
spires of which are before you. On the right is Brooklyn,
the City of Churches, and on the left Jersey City, but l^etwecn
them lies the great pulsing heart of American civilization —
New \'ork.
Having landed, the choice of an hotel first engrosses your
attention. The hotels of the city are numerous, and in point of
location, rates, .character of accommodations, and cuisine there
is large variety. The more popular houses are located on upper
Broadway and Fifth Avenue, and here you will disco\'er a dozen
or more from which you may choose, with a fair chance of being
well satisfied. An excellent plan, when economy is an object, is
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to secure lodgings in a central location and patronize the restau-
rants and cafes which abound in the vicinity, and at many of which
a table d' hote breakfast may be obtained for from twenty-five to
fifty cents and a table d' hote dinner for from fifty cents to one
dollar and fifty cents, usually with wine included.
The principal hotels are mentioned by name and located on
the map of the city included in these pages.
Having- settled upon a hotel you will now proceed to get a
more definite knowledge of the city than you have hitherto
acquired, and if you are wise you will walk at once to the nearest
station of the Sixth Avenue branch of the Manhattan Elevated
Railway. The chances are that it is not more than two or three
blocks from your hotel. Mounting to the station for " down-
town trains," on the west side of the street, you pay five cents
for a ticket, which you deposit in a box at the entrance to
the platform, and board the first train labeled "South Ferry"
that comes along. In no better way than this can you get an idea
of the people you have come among. The passengers in the car
where you seat yourself are constantly changing. At each sta-
tion some alight and others get on, and in your twenty minutes'
ride the chances are you have had a glimpse of every type of
New York resident. In this way, too, you are able to gather an
impression from the car windows of several different and distinct
sections of the city — the shopping district from Twenty-third
Street to Fourteenth Street, the French quarter, and the old
residence quarter, in the neighborhood of Washington Square,
a glimpse of which, with its marble arch, may be had through
some of the cross-streets over which you are whirled ; the
wholesale trade district, that lies just east of the long line
of piers stretching along the North River ; and then as the
road approaches nearer to Broadway cheap stores, in front of
which alluring bargain signs are hung to catch the unwary
country visitor who must pass up this way from the ferry, grow
niar\e]ouslv frequent. The line, you find, comes to an end in
Battery Park, at the southern extremity of the city, where the
se\eral branches of the elevated road join in a common station.
Ha\ing' descended to terra /iriiia in front ot an array of ferry-
houses, from which boats connect with Brooklyn, Bay Ridge.
Staten Island, and Ellis, Liberty, and < ioxernor's Islands, you
are in what was in the old colonial days the most fashionable
I)art of the cit\-. West of the ferries is the Barge Office, where
the Sur\c\ur of the Port has a branch office and the customs
inspectors their headquarters, and where, during the interval
between the abandonment of Castle Garden and the occupancy of
Ellis Island, was the depot for the landing of immigrants. Here,
too, is the United States Marine Hospital, and beyond, situated
upon the fine sea wall which stretches around the lower edge of
Batter\- Park, and from which a superb \icw of the harbor is
obtainable, is the building known as Castle Garden, which has
been in turn a fortification, a summer garden, and a landing depot
for immigrants.
Bowling Green is only a few blocks away, but between the
Battery and it, on Whitehall Street, are two structures worthv
of notice — the United ^States Army building, where quartermas-
ters' supplies and the like are stored, and the Produce E.xchange,
a magnificent edifice of granite, brick, terra cotta and iron, which
cost three and a ([uarter millions of dollars, and on the floor of
the main hall of which it is said se\ en thou.sand men could cf)m-
fortably transact business at one time. An elevator will carr\-
you to the top of the high tower, from which a bird's-eve \iew of
the city can be obtained.
From Bowling Green you enter Broadwa\', the main arter\-
of the metropolis, and a walk back to your hotel, a distance
of about three miles, will not only afford you an excellent no-
tion of the citv, but give you a view of many points of interest
as well.
In the next block, opposite the head of Wall Street, is Old
Trinity Church, as fine an example of gothic architecture as is to
be found in the city, and surrounded by a graveyard that is rich
in historical interest, some of the headstones dating back to the
time of the original church building, which was the first home of
the Church of England in America. The church spire is two hun-
dred and eighty-four feet high.
On Wall Street, the western end of which is at Trinity's door,
are some of the principal office buildings of the city, an entrance to
the Stock Exchange, the main fronts of which are on Broad and
New Streets, the United States Sub-Treasury, and the Custom
House. The scene within the Stock Exchange, the visitors' gal-
lery of which is reached from Wall Street, will well repay a A'isit.
From this building telegraph -wires run to every part of the coun-
trv and the financial pulse of the nation is taken at intervals of
less than a second.
In the vaults of the Sub-Treasury, at the corner of Wall and
Nassau Streets, are deposited millions of dollars of the nation's
funds, but its interest does not lie so much in this fact as in the
historic one that it occupies the site of old Federal Hall, on the
balcony of which Washington took the oath of office as first Pres-
ident of the United States, in 1789. A bronze statue of Washing-
ton taking the oath adorns the steps of the present building.
Adjoining the Sub-Treasury is the United States Assay Office,
erected in 1823, and the oldest building in the street, where bull-
ion and old coin and plate of all descriptions are bought and
melted into bricks to be used by the mints in coining.
The Custom House, a block nearer the river on the other side
of the street, is a building of gray granite, in the doric style of ar-
chitecture, with portico and high granite columns. As may be
inferred from the fact that its average receipts in duties collected on
imports is about $155,000,000 against less than $3,000,000 expen-
ses, it is enormously profitable to the United States Government.
8 /
The ]jrincipal building on Broadway between Wall Street and
the Post-Office is that of the Equitable Life Assurance Society, on
the east side of the thoroughfare, between Pine and Cedar Streets.
Through it pass more than thirt)' thousand people daily, and it ac-
commodates something like thirty-five hundred tenants. In its
tower are the headquarters of the United States Signal Serxice in
New York, on two of its u]iper floors is accommodated the Law-
yer's Club, and on its ground floor and in the basement is the
Cafe Sa\"arin.
The Western Union Telegraph Company's building is a short
distance above the Equitable, on the west side of Broadway, at the
corner of Dey Street, an inspiring structure, in which are the head-
cjuarters of the telegraph company named. An idea of the com-
pany's business may be obtained from the statement that in 1890
it handled fifty-five million eight hundred and seventy-eight thou-
sand seven hundred and sixty-two messages, and that its receipts
were $22,387,027.91.
At the corner where Park Row on the east and Vesey Street
on the west join Broadway are four buildings that merit your at-
tention. The New York Herald building, of white marble, on
your right, old St. Paul's Chapel across the way on your left — a
chapel of Trinity parish and the only colonial relic among the
churches of New York : the Astor House, at one time the ])rinci-
pal hotel of the city, and still a good paying property. On the
northeast corner of Broadwa)' and Vesey Street, and directly
ahead of you, filling up the triangle formed by Park Row on one
side, Broadway on the other, and City Hall Park in the rear, the
gray granite building of the United States Post-Ofifice, with
its dome modeled after that of the Louvre, pointing skyward
on the Broadway side. The Post-Ofifice building, in which the
business done invoh'es the handling on an axerage of o\er
six hundred thousand letters daily and about nine thousand bags
of newspaper mail, includes also the United States Courts, the
United States District Attorney's ofifice, and offices used for
other Federal purposes.
In the old colonial clays City Hall Park, the last vestige of
which you find north of the Post-Office, but which originally
included the ground on which the Post-Office is built, was used for
public celebrations, as five times a year a public bonfire was
lighted upon it, and food and drink distributed at the expense of
the town. It is now merely a beauty spot in the midst of a
breathless field of business. Across its green the imposing news-
paper structures of Park Row may be seen rising heavenward,
while in the middle distance the city's municipal buildings give
the scene a picturesqueness that is to be found nowhere else in the
city. The City Hall, with its marble front and sides, and its
cupola capped by a statue of justice, contains the offices of several
city officials, including that of the Mayor. North of the City
Hall is the New Court House, of white marble, while to the east
is the old Hall of Records or Register's Office, a relic of the
Revolutionary war.
Mercantile houses of more or less importance now crowd
Broadway on both sides as you journey northward, and most
of the places worth seeing are to be found off to the right.
Leaving Broadway at Houston Street you will find only a few
steps away on Mulberry Street, midway between Houston and
Bleecker Streets, the headquarters of the New York police, and
will learn that the force numbers about thirty-five hundred men,
including one superintendent, four inspectors, and thirty-six cap-
tains.
A little further north another detour will be repaid by a view
of the Astor Library, in Lafayette Place, a few doors south of
Astor Place, which runs out of the main thoroughfare. This is a
free reference library endowed by the Astor family, containing
two hundred and sixty-eight thousand books and pamphlets, and
possessing an estate valued at about $2,000,000. Near here is
lO
also the Cooper Union, founded by the famous American philan-
thropist. Peter Cooper, and including science and art schools for
men and women and a free library. The Bible House, the home
of the American Bible Society, which, since its institution in 1816.
has distributed o\er fiftv-three million Bibles, is situated directly
opposite the Cooper Institute, in Astor Place, between Third and
Fourth Avenues.
As vou ha\e walked north on Broadway you have noticed that
vour \new has been obstructed at a certain point by a graceful
church edifice of light-gray stone. This is Grace Church, and
vou find that it is adjoined bv a parsonage and parish house ol
a similar style of architecture. Its congregation is among the
wealthiest in Ne\\- York.
A few blocks nK)re and \'ou come to I nion Square, a park co\-
ering three and a half acres, which here breaks Broadway in two.
It is ornamented, as are all the city squares and parks, with foun-
tains, shrubbery, flowers, and statuary. From Union Square to
Madison Square is a succession of retail houses, forming the other
side of the shopping district which you saw from the elevated train
in your ride southward. Broadway, north of Twenty-third Street,
which is itself a great shopping thoroughfare, is given up for the
most part to theatres, hotels, and apartment houses.
Having seen Broadway, or as much of it as is worth your while,
it will be well for you to devote the rest of your day to Fifth A\e-
nue. Entering upon it where it crosses Broadway and climbing-
Murray Hill, the fashionable residence quarter, you may continue
vour stroll to and into Central Park at Fifty-ninth Street. In
this you will see the homes of the more important clubs, including
the Reform, the Knickerbocker, the Calumet, the Manhattan, the
New York, and the Union League. The Union Club and the
Lotus are situated on Fifth A\enue, but south of Twenty-third
Street, while the Manhattan Athletic Club and the New York
Athletic Club are on side avenues, the former on Madison A\'enue
at Forty-fourth Street and the later on Sixth Avenue at Fifty-
fifth Street. You will see, too, the mansions of many of New
York's millionaires, including those of the Vanderbilts, between
Fifty-first and Fifty-second Streets ; and St. Patrick's Cathe-
dral, the largest and handsomest church building in the United
States.
A drive around Central Park and a visit to the Metropolitan
Museum of Art situated therein should be considered necessary to
obtain even a cursory impression of the city. The Park comprises
eight hundred and forty acres, with nine miles of winding drives ; its
lakes and ponds cover an area of forty-three and one-quarter acres,
and it includes among its features of interest an obelisk presented
to the city by the Khedive of Egypt, and brought to this countr}-
from Alexandria in 1880. A menagerie, rich in animals oi all
kinds, takes up ten acres of the Park's land. The Metropolitan
Museum of Art contains many valuable and famous pictures and
some costly and rare collections of antiquities.
Thus far you have seen only the bright side of New York.
A visit to the Bowery, to Chinatown, and to the Italian quarter,
where may be seen the dark side, cannot fail to interest you it you
are a student of human nature ; and if, moreover, you care to note
how a city grows it may be well to take trips on the ele\'ated roads
to their northern termini, when you will be able to form some
conception of how New York's million and a half of souls are
housed, and how more room is being made each year for a con-
stantly increasing population.
Having seen New York, whether well or ill depends upon the
time you have devoted to it, you make ready for your nine hun-
dred mile journey across the continent to Chicago and the Colum-
bian Exposition. The Pennsylvania Railroad's line you learn is
the safest, the speediest, the most comfortable, and the most
picturesque, and you choose it, as a matter of course. The
company has two passenger stations in New York, one at the
12
foot of Desbrosses Street for the accommodation of passengers
like yourself from up-to\vn, and one at the foot of Cortlandt Street
for the convenience of business men and others who are engaged
in the lower part of the city. A cab will carry you from your
hotel to Desbrosses Street Ferry in from fifteen
to thirty minutes, and the cabman will expect
a dollar for doing so. If you have a half
hour to spare the Sixth Avenue elevated
road to Grand Street and from there a
cross-town car to the ferry will
be a cheaper route ; or you may
continue on
the elevated
"~^' train to Cort-
landt Street,
from which
station the
down-town
ferry is but
about three minutes' walk distant. You will find the ferry-houses
roomy and comfortable, while as for the ferry-boats that carry you
across the North or Hudson River to Jersey City, the eastern ter-
minus of the Pennsylvania Railroad, they are veritable floating
palaces, large, light, and luxuriously appointed, with an upper
saloon and deck from which a most excellent view of the river
front and shipping of the city may be had.
THE START FOR THE WEST.
A GREAT high, wide-spreading, graceful arch, through the white
glass of which the sunlight filters down over lines of long, sleek
passenger cars, made up into trains about to start for various
sections of the country. A
half dozen surcharged loco-
"^ , motives far away
down the vast
transparent
roofed inclos-
ure are sending
up clouds of
white steam,
the music of which,
as it comes moaning
from the open safety
valves, mingles with
the clatter of hurrying
baggage trucks, the
distant rattle of whirling-
ratchet wheels making fast
an arriving ferry-boat, the so-
norous voices of the conductors
in blue uniforms and sih-er buttons
standing at the head of the long lanes
ot platforms and directing passengers to
_ their soon-to-be-moving trains, and the mcessant
drone ot the overladen newsboys with their daily and weekly
papers, the latest magazines, the newest novels, and the inevit-
able silk traveling caps.
(13)
14
You are in the Jersey City station of America's greatest rail-
road— the Pennsylvania. Behind you, across the river, Hes the
metropoHs ot the new world — New York ; before you, at the end
of nine hundred miles of glistening steel rails, rises the eighth
wonder of the world, the city that was built in a day — Chicago.
A clock above your head tells )-ou that it is ten minutes after ten
in the morning, and a time-table in your hand informs you that
before this hour to-morrow you will have arrived at your Mecca,
the Exposition that celebrates four centuries of American develop-
ment.
" Philadelphia, Pittsburg, Chicago, and the West ! "
The \^oice of the conductor of the most sumptuous railway
train that the mind of man ever conceived — the Pennsylvania
Limited — rings out clear and sharp above the babel of other
sounds. A negro porter takes your portmanteau and your rugs,
and you hurry forward. Your ticket indicates your location for
the journey. It is in "Car 2," perhaps, "Lower 12," which
means the middle Pullman sleeping car of the train, and one of
the lower berths at the rear end ; or it is possible that you have
secured the drawing-room in this car, which will afford you greater
]n-i\acy, though for that matter a section, including an upi)er and
a lower berth, will be all that you require should you merely wish a
compartment to yourself Here in "Lower 12," lor instance, the
upper berth not ha\'ing been sold, you find that you are quite
alone, and that if you feel so inclined you may draw the richly
embossed \elvet curtains which are draped from a brass rod above
and shut yourself away from the eyes of your fellow -passengers.
Scarcely have you begun to mar\-el over the luxury of your
surroundings than, glancing out of the window, you realize that
the train is moving. So gradually, so smoothly have the wheels
started upon their twenty-four hours of revolution that you have
not had the slightest indication until this moment that you have
passed from under that mammoth roof-span — the greatest in the
i6
world — and hiwe glided out upon the elevated road-bed that carries
the tracks of the Pennsylvania Railroad Company over the streets
of Jersey City and out into the broad stretch of meadows beyond.
The day is very fair. The mornino- sunshine stealing in between
the silken win-
dow draperies
transforms the
rich browns of
the upholstery
into a glorious
symphony in
gold. The
brass work,
brightly pol-
ished, glistens
in the warm
rays, and the
delicate tints
of the ceiling
decoration
glowing in the
light admitted
by the double
line ■ of \'enti-
lators, join in
the general
harmony of
color, which is
reflected again
and again by a score or more ot tlainty mirrors. You have
been told that you may breakfast on the train, and you wonder
where. At this moment the negro porter looms up in the dis-
tance, and the man who occupies the compartment opposite
A DRAWING-ROOM.
17
to you, you notice, touches a button con\-emently placed in
the wall between the windows, and a bell tinkles somewhere far
away. You note that the porter disappears for an instant, only to
reappear ; he has glanced at the electrical indicator in the brief in-
terim, and now he has come straight to your neighbor and is await-
ing his commands. You seize the opportunity to inquire about
your breakfast, and learn that you can be served in the dining car,
which is two cars forward.
The inclosed passage-way through which you pass from one car
to another is the vestibule feature of the train, and you can readily
realize that not only does it afford entire safety to passengers, who
in the old days were warned against going from car to car while
trains were in motion, but that it aids very materially in prevent-
ing that disagreeable rocking from side to side which is inevitable
without it. The vestibule, too, with its strong steel framework is
a most effective safeguard against telescoping, and as you pass on
this discovery gives to you a sense of security which you do not
fail to appreciate.
The car which is between yours and the dining car is similar in
every way to your own ; but as you walk through it you observe
another feature of the train which up to this time has escaped you.
A mulatto girl in a blue serge frock, white apron, and white cap
is arranging a pillow for an elderly lady, who is evidently an inva-
lid, upon a couch in the drawing-room, the door of which stands
open, revealing an apartment as cosy, comfortable, and beautiful
as any bijou boudoir in the land. The mulatto girl, the conductor
tells you, is the train's ladies' maid, and is at the service of all of
the women passengers.
There is a sparkle of delicate glassware and polished silver, re-
flecting snowy linen ; a glint of china, frail and transparent as an
egg shell ; a breath of fresh flowers, and a musical clicking of
knives and forks. White-coated and aproned waiters move to
and fro with deftly balanced trays of smoking viands, and when
19
a blue-uniformed officer, the conductor of the dming car, has
ushered you to a seat, one of these waiters places a napkin and
a menu before you. You give your order, and while it is being
cooked in the kitchen Avhich occupies a third or more of the car,
but which is dexterously hidden from sight, as you sit facing it,
by a sideboard on which there is a dazzling array of plate and
glassware, you may indulge in whatever fruit the season affords,
glancing now and then out of the broad windows at the country
through which the train is gliding at a speed which, so easily
does it move, you cannot begin to realize.
Already you have crossed the meadows where are situated the
railroad company's repair shops, freight buildings, and coaling
platforms ; you have crossed the Passaic River four miles from
where it empties into Newark Bay, and are whirling through the
city of Newark itself, the first city in point of population and
wealth in New Jersey.
Before EHzabeth is reached you have your breakfast before
you, but you stop eating for a moment to look at what was the
first English settlement in the State, and what is noM' one of the
chief suburban residence places of New York. Railway, another
manufacturing town, flashes by, and then, just as you have fin-
ished eating, and are thinking about an after-breakfast cigar,
the Raritan Ri\-er glimmers beneath you, and the train dashes
into New Brunswick and out again, giving you just a peep at
the stately old buildings and verdant campus of Rutgers Col-
lege, which was chartered by King George III., of England, in
1770 — Queen's College then, of course — and of several mills
and factories, the roofs of which are on a level with the car
windows.
" Smoking car, sir ! Yes, sir ! Next car forward, sir ! "
If you were suddenly set down in your own club you could
not be more snugly ensconced than you are in this warm-colored
room, with its low, softlv-cushioned wicker chairs, its Aclvet
21
couch, its writing-desks, its book-cases, and its square tables
laden with the morning newspapers and the current periodical
literature. Beyond the curtained doorway yonder is the buffet,
with which you can communicate by means of an electric button
always at hand, and from which you can procure whatever you
may desire in the way of liquid refreshment or cigars. Beyond
this is the barber shop, from which entrance is had to the bath-
room, and still further forward is the baggage-room, where your
trunks, checked at your hotel in New York, are being carried
along with you, not to be seen again until you find them at the
Chicago hotel of your choice.
The train is now making good time through a generally level
country, watered by streams that flow between picturesquely
wooded banks, and cultivated by well-to-do, energetic farmers,
who send their produce to both New York and Philadelphia. As
the smoke of your cigar curls from your lips and clouds for an
instant the broad window pane you catch a glimpse of a station
flying by on your right. It is Princeton Junction, and the
smoothly-shaven man with glasses who sits near to you, and who
glances out across the fields with a half-regretful smile upon his
face, will tell you, if you ask him, that three miles away, at the
top of yonder riclge, is Princeton College, his alvia mater.
Princeton College, he will inform you, is "one of the foremost
institutions of learning in the country, and from it have gradu-
ated many of Amei'ica's brightest minds." About old Nassau
Hall, the main college edifice, clings many historical reminis-
cences. During the Revolutionary war it was occupied alter-
nately as a barrack and a hospital by both the British and Amer-
ican forces, and it bears to this day the marks made upon its walls
by cannon balls during the battle of Princeton, in 1777.
The Trenton of to-day is noted principally for its potteries,
some of the finest art ware manufactured in the United, States
being the product of its skilled artisans.
22
The Delaware River is crossed in a flash, and you have passed
into the rich farming" and grazing country of Bucks County in
PennsyK-ania. Fifty-eight miles have now been tra\ersed, and a
few minutes later you are among what may be considered the sub-
. , ., urbs of Philadelphia ; Bristol
succession of small -
'illages lying along the
rest hank of the Dela-
, are containing many
residences of Philadel-
phia business men, who
make the journey to and
rom that city daily.
Now you begin to
notice mammoth
manufactories, from
the tall chimneys of
which the smoke
is pouring, and
row after row ot
small brick houses
with white shut-
ters and low, white
door-steps, and you
know by this sign that you
'■■•"^"''^^■■■S^^"^' are in the outlying districts
ot the city of the Quakers. Street
after street you cross at an elevation
ab(jve urade, and then you are once more
BKUAU SIREET STATION, O ' .'
PHiLADKLPHiA. plungcd suddculy into sylvan scenes ol
the most picturesque description. Fairmount Park, with its
macadamized drives, its hills, and its dales, rises above you and
then sweeps away to the silver Schuylkill ^t your feet. Oft
23
to your right, rising above the rich foUage, you see, as the
train thunders over the bridge which spans the river, the surviv-
ing rehcs of the World's Fair of 1876— the white-domed Me-
morial Hall, which served as an art gallery, and the lower,
conservatory-like building, that was then, and has been ever
since, devoted to a horticultural display. The city's zoological
gardens are on your left as your train sweeps around a long
curve prior to recrossing the river at a point farther south, and
gliding into the city proper over an elevated road similar to that
over which you were carried out of Jersey City.
The magnificent scenery in which the Pennsylvania's route to
Chicago is so rich lies for the most part west of Philadelphia. The
journey has now really just been commenced, and after a brief
stop at the Broad Street Station, during which you notice that the
latest stock and produce quotations have been received and posted
on a convenient bulletin -board in this cosiest of smoking-rooms,
you walk through the train to the observation car, which is at-
tached to the rear end.
If you have been pleasantly astonished at the elegant and
complete comfort of the smoking car and its accessories you are
sure to be equally amazed at the delicious luxury of the car which
is designed primarily for the women passengers, but which is as
much yours as theirs. The rattan furniture, upholstered in rich
velvets, the soft carpets, the wide and high windows, slightly
bowed, with their sumptuous draperies, the writing-desks, and
tables, and book-shelves, similar to those you have just left in the
smoker, are but incidents. The chief feature of the car lies be-
yond these in the extreme rear. At first glance it reminds you of
a piazza upon which this beautiful room opens out, and a piazza
from which the view is constantly changing. It is as broad as the
car and equally as deep. There is room upon it for a dozen or
more chairs. Its sides are protected by the car's sides, which
extend out to meet the ornate brass railing that incloses its end.
24
and the car's roof is its canopy. As the train glides out once
more into the open country, through a landscape that is probably
more like an English landscape than anything to be found else-
where on the American continent, )'ou notice on either hand the
picturesque villas and manor houses of many of Philadelphia's
wealthiest citizens, who here make their home the year round ;
but from your present position you notice something else as well.
The road-bed, with its four tracks, stretching away behind this
fast-flying hotel of yours, is, you see, in the most perfect order.
Its heavy steel rails, polished bright as mirrors, rest upon evenly-
spaced cross-ties, imbedded in evenly-broken stone ballast.
You notice, too, that your train is protected by the block signal
system, and that no other train is permitted in the block between
telegraph stations on which you are running until you have passed
out of it and into the next beyond, and you are thus assured that
to be o\'ertaken and run into by a train which follows is a simple
impossibility.
" A wonderful road," remarks your next neighbor ; " the only
road in America which combines the three essentials of perfect
travel — safety, speed, and comfort. The company not only em-
ploys these block signals, which you must have observed, but
the interlocking switch, which is another safeguard, and the air-
brake, which, you know, places the speed of the train entirely in
the hands of the engineman, who, from his position in the cab of
the locomotive, is best fitted to look after it. In fact, not a single
I)oint has been overlooked by the Pennsylvania Railroad Com-
pany in securing to its patrons absolute safety. Accidents to its
passenger trains are almost unknown.
" In the matter of speed," your neighbor continues, " the com-
pany is constantly making improvements. Years ago it intro-
duced these track tanks, ' ' and as he speaks you see beneath you,
between the tracks o\'er which you are flying, a long, narrow pan
of water. " The locomoti\'e," he goes on, " takes up water from
26
these as it goes, without materially slacking speed. The heavy
rails and the perfect road-bed are other adjuncts valuable in this
direction ; as are also the company's stone bridges. Of late the
line of road, too, has been very considerabl}- straightened.
Curves have been taken out and heavy grades lessened. The
Pennsylvania, you see, considers speed an essential, but always
secondary to safety. As for the comfort it secures its patrons I
need not speak. The train you are on now is without a peer on
the globe. You have here not merely comfort, but luxury. In
no hotel in the country can you find more conveniences."
The idea strikes you, possibly, that you would like to write a
letter to catch to-morrow morning's European mail. You had not
time before leaving, perhaps. You would like to write, you say,
but you fear the motion of the car, gentle and almost imper-
ceptible as it is, would make your chirography totally inde-
cipherable.
Your neighbor smiles and asks you if you failed to notice the
young man seated before a desk in the little compartment at the
other end of this car. And then you learn that he is a stenographer
and typewriter, and that what you dictate he will put into plainly
printed characters for you, and that he will post it at the ne.xt
stopping-place, whence it will go by fast mail back to New York,
and leave to-morrow morning on the outgoing steamer.
. Shortly after this the conductor of the dining car announces
that luncheon is being ser\'ed, and if your appetite is equal to a
dozen iced blue points, a cup of bouillon, a chop or cutlet, and a
salad, with an ice and cafe noh\ )'ou may gratify it.
Meanwhile you have passed through Delaware and Chester
Counties in Pennsylvania, with their suburban homes and hotels,
and before; your luncheon is fairl)' under way you are speeding
across Lancaster County, which comprises some of the most fertile
farming land and the best kept farms in the State. The general
surface of this county is an undulating plain, broken by a few
28
abrupt elevations, and the picture presented to your view from
the car window is for the most part one of vari-colored patches,
produced by the well-cultivated fields. Here you may notice the
tobacco plant growing in rank abundance, for the cultivation and
manufacture of this weed into cigars is one of Lancaster County's
chief sources of revenue. The city of Lancaster, where Robert
Fulton, the inventor of the steamboat, was reared and educated,
looms up to your right, but the line of road only skirts it, and a
glimpse of its church spires and the chimneys of its cotton mills
and breweries is all that you are afforded.
Presently the Susquehanna Ri\er is discovered on your left,
flowing placidly between low-lying banks, and just as the hands
of your watch approach the hour of three the train rolls smoothly
into the station at Harrisburg, the capital of the Keystone State.
To the north is the Lebanon Valley, embracing an enormous area
of highly-culti\'ated territory, abounding in iron ore and dotted
with manufactories, while to the south lies the Cumberland Valley,
second to no region in America of the same extent in picturesque-
ness, fertility, and mineral wealth, and including one of the show
places of the United States, the Battlefield of Gettysburg, where,
in 1863, took place the most stirring and momentous engagement
of the war between the North and the South.
Once out of the Harrisburg Station and on the road again
you have spread out before you an uninterrupted perspective
of sparkling waters, verdant islands, rolling hills, and sloping-
woodland.
Five miles farther on and you ha\e reached the Kittatinny
Mountains, the first of the great Allegheny range, and bending
abruptly to the west your train thunders o\'er the Susquehanna
River on a bridge thirty-six hundred and seventy feet in length.
To your right rise gigantic ridges sundered by the waters in their
passage, but leaving numerous rocks in the channel to break the
river into rapids and fret it into foam, while to your left the stream
29
sweeps away, with its wooded islands, towards Harrisburg, which
you have left behind, but the steeples and domes of which are still
in view.
You have sought the observation car again, and the pictures
that are presented to your view in rapid succession are alternately
liY RIVKR AND CANAL.
magnificent in their wild grandeur and poetically idyllic in their
quiet beauty. Leaving the Susquehanna, the road now follows
the beautiful blue Juniata in its course through the mountains and
valleys, until its sources are reached amid the great AUcghenies.
The miniature river, picking a path for itself through the outlying
30
mountains, has a})pai'entlv ox'ercome the obstacles in its way by
strategy as well as power. At many places it has dashed boldly
against the wall before it and torn it asunder, while at others you
find it tortuously winding around the obstruction and creeping
stealthily through secret valleys and secluded glens. So your
train, flying along by its side, now passes through broad, cultivated
valleys, and a moment later plunges into a ravine so narrow that
the road-bed is but a ledge of overhanging rock. Here a mount-
ain spur is tunneled through, and farther on, so tortuous becomes
the stream, that you find yourself crossing and recrossing it in
your flight westward.
Mifflin, with its memories of Indian wars ; Lewistown, near the
site of which once dwelt the famous Mingo chief, Logan ; Mount
Union, at the entrance to Jack's Narrows, a wild and rugged
gorge ; Mill Creek and its sand quarries ; Huntingdon and Ty-
rone are passed in turn, and now you are approaching Altoona,
where are located the celebrated shops of the Pennsylvania Rail-
road Company. Your ride in the open air has given you an appe-
tite that demands satisfaction, but the knowledge that just the
other side of Altoona you will pass through some of the grandest
mountain scenery on the route induces you to keep your seat,
and for keeping it you are amply repaid.
A brief stop is made at the Altoona Station, and then, with all
steam on, the giant locomotive at the head of your train begins
the ascent of the heaviest grade on the line. The valley beside
you sinks lower and lower, until it becomes a \'ast gorge, the bot-
tom of -which is hidden by impenetrable gloom. Far in the depths
cottages appear for a moment, only to disappear in the darkness,
and then, just as night is falling, you begin the circuit of the world-
famous Horse-shoe Cur\'e, the most stupendous piece of engineer-
ing ever accomplished ; the wonder and admiration of travelers
frf)m the four corners of the globe ; the one feature of American
railroad construction that you have been told required the utmost
31
courage to attempt and the most miraculous skill to achieve.
And now, as the enormous bend, sweeping first north, then curving
westward, and still curving away to the south again, presents
itself to your view, you confess that you did not begin to esti-
mate its grandeur. An eagle soars majestically away from some
crag aboA-e your head and floats with extended wings over the
gulch that makes your brain reel as you glance downward, so
HORSR-SHOK Cl'R\K.
deep is it. The clouds into which you are climbing bend low and
hide the rugged top of the mountain to whose beetling side you
are clinging, forming a whitish gray canopy that extends half way
across the dizzy chasm. It is all so large, so grand, so majestic,
that you admit that your imagination has been unequal to the
task of picturing it.
Your train is dwarfed by its surroundings until it seems but a
mere toy moving at snail's pace around this tremendous loop of
32
shining metal threads. Across the chasm another train, whose
Hghts, as it gHdes through the shadow, give it the semblance of a
flight of fire-flies, appears to be racing with your own. In reality
it is approaching you, and as you whirl around the northern end
of the horse-shoe at the head of the valley, it goes thundering by,
and a new race begins with an exchange of sides.
The clouds which have dipped into the gorge roll majestically
away at this moment, and far below you, trailing in and out, you
descry a tiny stream of water, the winding course of which is
suddenly lost to sight among the mountains which bar your view.
It is a tributary of the Juniata, and its waters eventually find their
way into Chesapeake Bay ; while across the mountain, along
whose rugged breast you are now climbing in search of an open-
ing westward, babbles another rivulet that empties itself into the
Conemaugh, and thus from river to river until it reaches the
mighty Mississippi, and finally the Gulf of Mexico. In a word,
you are about to cross the great dividing range of the continent,
and at a height of something like two thousand feet above the
level of the Atlantic.
At AUegrippus the grandeur of the mountains seems to culmi-
nate. Gazing to the east, range after range rises into view, each
fainter of outline than the other, until the last fades into the azure
of the horizon. Now the valleys begin gradually to rise again,
the mountains sink down, and you find yourself upon what
appears to be a rugged plain where industry has found a place
for furnaces, mills, and mines, and over which many homes
are dotted. As you go through the train to the dining car,
where, in the glow of numerous electric lights, dinner is being-
served, the train dashes into a tunnel, and the mountain range
is pierced.
Blazing fires showing through a succession of furnace doors,
so close to the track that you can almost feel the breath of the
llamcs as you speed past, tell you that you are now in the heart
33
of the coke-burning country and the region where bituminous
coal is mined in abundance. You are still at the table when
Cresson, the most popular summer resort in Western Pennsylva-
nia, flashes by.
If on your journey west, or your return journey east, you care
to get an idea of a typical American mountain resort, you will
find in Cresson a most excellent example. Situated as it is on
the very crest of one of the Alleghenies, in the heart of this glo-
rious mountain scenery, with the Horse-shoe Curve only a few
miles away, the location, in point of beauty and healthfulness, is
unsurpassed. The grounds of the hotel — an imposing structure,
which, with its cottages, has accommodations for a thousand
guests — cover an area of over five hundred acres, the greater part
of which is a beautifully-graded lawn garnished with flo.wer-beds
and shrubbery and plentifully dotted with trees. The house itself
is both capacious and comfortable, its sleeping-rooms - are large
and airy, its dining halls and parlors attractive in decoration and
furnishing, and its cuisine equal to that of any summer hotel in
America. Here, too, are to be found mineral springs of unques-
tioned efficacy, and every facility for enjoyment, from a livery
stable to tennis courts.
Half an hour later, as you sip your after-dinner coffee, the
conductor tells you that you are in the neighborhood of Johns-
town, the ill-fated borough that was swept almost entirely out of
existence a few, years ago by the giving way of a poorly-con-
structed dam, which allowed the Conemaugh River to surge over
the town in a devastating flood, causing the loss of several thou-
sand lives and the destruction of millions of dollars worth of
property.
As you pass into the smoking-room once more for another
cigar, the apartment, under the radiance of the electric lights,
seems to have taken on a cheerier aspect even than during the
day.. Your fellow-passengers, under the influence of a most
35
ex'cellent dinner, have grown less reserved. A game of whist is in
progress in one of the compartments between the smoking-room
proper and the buffet beyond. Three or four men are discussing
together the market prospects, taking their text from the closing
prices of the day which were posted on the bulletin -board at
Altoona ; others are reading, and others still, with their heads
close to the windows, are drinking in the beauty of the mountain
scenery, which is now silvered by the pale light of the moon ; and
in this manner you yourself get an idea of the Pack-saddle nar-
rows of the Conemaugh, the winding river below, and the wooded
heights above.
An hour later your attention is attracted by towering columns
of flame forming weird and fantastic arabesques against the
night, and a communicative passenger tells you that the train
has now reached the natural gas country. Village after village,
illuminated by this means, is passed through, and then in the
distance you descry the glimmering lights of Pittsburg. Your
watch informs you that it is half-past nine when the train, on
time to the minute, runs into the Union Depot in that city,
which is the western terminus of the Pennsylvania Railroad
proper, and you are puzzled for a moment to see by your
time-table that you will leave for Chicago at 8.45. It is here
that the Standard time changes. Heretofore you have reckoned
your day by Eastern time ; beyond Pittsburg you will reckon
it by what is called Central time, which is an hour slower.
Here the dining car, which has served its purpose for the
day, is taken off, and during the process you seize the oppor-
tunity to alight and indulge in a brisk walk up and down the
station platform. From the depot you can get but a poor idea
of the city. On your left rises a high hill, upon the top of
Avhich an electric light appears like a star in the black vault of
the hea\'ens, while on your right you see nothing but a suc-
cession of railroad tracks.
36
In point of fact, ho\ve\cr, Pittsburg is a maniifacturino- city
of no mean importance, and not only that, but a handsome
city as well. Its natural beauties have been enhanced by public
and pri\'ate improvements. No more healthy city can be found
in America, and in some of the essentials of comfort it has no
ri\'al. Natural gas is abundant, and is e;upplied at low rates for
heating and cooking in pri\'ate houses, as well as for manufact-
uring. Charitable, educational, and reformatory institutions
abound, and its public edifices are numerous and imposing.
Soon after leaxing Pittsburg }'Ou return to your sleeping car
to find that the compartment allotted to you has been trans-
formed into a most comfortable berth, hung with tapestry cur-
tains. The linen is white and delicate, the pillows soft, and the
coverings ample. The lights have been lowered, and when at
last you decide to retire for the night, you confess that you
are as well provided for as you could be under the roof of
either hotel or private residence. Sleep quickly responds to
your wooing ; and while you slumber your train glides smoothly
over the tracks of the Pennsylvania's Western lines, across the
State of Ohio, stopping at Alliance, Crestline, and Lima; and
then into Indiana, where, just as the rising sun begins to tint
the East with the first flush of a new day, another halt is made
at Fort Wayne.
When you first open your eyes the flat country of the Hoosier
State spreads itself out for miles before you, and you turn over
for another nap, from which you are awakened by the \'oice of
one of the dining car waiters, who is making known the fact to
the sleeping passengers that breakfast is served. The car has
been taken on at Fort Wayne, and when, having bathed in the
bath-room, been shaved deftly by the barber, and finished your
toilet in a lavatory, elaborately fitted up with basins of silver,
you seek the breakfast-room, it is to disco\'er a duplicate of the
car that was left behind at Pittsburg the evening before.
o/
Before you have finished your morning meal a line of dazzling,
greenish blue suddenly shows itself off to the right. It is Lake
Michigan, and already you are in the suburbs of Chicago. Rail-
road tracks innumerable spread themselves on either side of you ;
small stations at which local trains are standing, or from which
they are just departing, flash by ; buildings, ranging in size from
modest cottages to mammoth warehouses, come and go ; and a
man in uniform comes through the car asking you to which hotel
you wish to go, and how many trunks you have to be sent. He
is the agent of an omnibus line and a local express company, and
for a nominal sum will send both yourself and your luggage to
your chosen destination. You hurry away to gather up your
traps in the sleeping car, and just as you have your portmanteau
strapped and your rugs rolled, the train glides into the depot at
Chicago, and comes to a standstill — its journey over.
HICAGO has been reached in the foregoing
pages by means of the Pennsylvania Lim-
ited, and while this is the greatest it is
by no means the only train which the
matchless facilities of the Pennsylvania
Railroad offer to the traveler. Another
train, almost as perfect in appointment as
the Limited, is the Columbian Express.
This train, named in honor of the Great
Fair, was added to the service as a relief
to the Limited, on account of the increased traffic incident to
the Exposition. It is composed of Pullman vestibule sleeping-
cars, dining cars, smoking cars, and passenger coaches, all con-
structed especially for this train. These cars are painted in the
standard cardinal color of the Pennsylvania Railroad, and with
their black and gold trimmings present a most attracti\'e appear-
ance to the eye. Inside they are finished in quiet colors, and
furnished with all the comforts of cars of the highest class. The
dining cars are available for all meals, so that every passenger,
even though one should not choose to secure accommodations
in the sleeping car, may take every meal en Toidc without lea\-
ing the train.
The Columbian Express lea\es New York in the early after-
noon, traverses the State of New Jersey and all of Eastern Penn-
sylvania before the curtain of night descends to shut out the
scenery. The tra\'eler will miss the panoramic landscapes that
Central and Western Pennsylvania unfolds to the patrons of the
Limited, and, retiring in the mountains, will awake, if an early
riser, in the neighborhood of the thrivino- town of Mansfield, in
(35)
39
the State of Ohio. While eating your breakfast the unmistakable
odor of petroleum will be wafted into the car for the nonce, and
by this sign you Avill know the train is crossing the great oil-fields
of Ohio, of which Lima is the centre. A couple of hours later
Fort Wayne, Ind., one of the most important cities and the
principal railroad centre between Pittsburg and Chicago, will be
reached, and after a stop for exchanging locomotives the trip
will be resumed. A glance at Plymouth, Ind., will be given as
the train rushes through, and in two hours more the shores of
Lake Michigan will be visible, and the interminable maze of rail-
road tracks that cover the surface of suburban Chicago will cause
you to marvel how an engineman can guide his flying steed in
safety through such a puzzling confusion of switches. A little
more than twenty-five hours have elapsed since you left New
York, when you disembark amid the bustle of the great Chicago
Station.
It may happen that you will select a still later train from New
York, one leaving towards six o'clock, and in that case the
Western Express will be your choice. This train is exceedingly
popular with business men, for the reason that it leaves the east-
ern metropolis after all the work of the day is ended. It is as
comfortable in its equipment as the one just described, since it is
composed of Pullman vestibule sleeping cars and dining cars.
Its westward flight begins in the night, and the first light of day
breaks through the Avindow of your berth in Western Pennsyl-
vania, near Pittsburg. You get a passing glimpse of the great
Iron City and its twin sister, Allegheny, the two separated by the
Allegheny River ; you bisect the great State of Ohio, with its
di\'ersified industries clearly manifested in the country and towns
which mark the line, and in the waning afternoon you cross the
boundary line and enter Indiana. After twilight you glide across
the corner of Illinois, and stop in Chicago as the chimes on the
station tower is telling the hour — 9.30 of the evening.
41
The real night train for Chicago, however, leaves New York
at eight o'clock in the evening. There is no lack of comfortable
accommodation on this, which is known as the Pacific Express.
This is in some respects the most notable train of the service.
It is distinctively the scenic train of the line, as it reaches the
mountains in the morning and crosses the Alleghenies when the
skies are lighted with the radiance of the rising sun and the air is
redolent with the freshness of a new day. The act of awakening
amid such scenes is at first startling in its effects, but the breath
of the mountains and the grandeur of the scenery in the full flush
of early sunlight is full recompense for the loss of an hour or so
of slumber. By this train breakfast is taken at Altoona, the
mountain workshop of the Pennsylvania Railroad, and after an
excellent meal at the Logan House the train proceeds. An
observation car is here attached, and an additional locomotive
to aid in overcoming the steep grade.
Within a few minutes the Horse-shoe Curve is sighted, and a
thrill of admiration, which expands into a feeling of wonder and
delight, takes possession of every one who looks upon the scenes
of wild beauty which are presented on every hand. It is a magnif-
icent spectacle, and one which will cling to the memory forever.
The entire western portion of the State of Pennsylvania, with
its fiery coke-ovens, smoking furnaces, and flaming gas-wells, will
be traversed by daylight, as well as the eastern portion of the
State of Ohio as far as Mansfield. Then the shadows of night
lengthen into darkness, and the traveler will retire on the train
to awaken in the early morning at his destination — the city of
the World's Fair.
Assuming that you have traveled direct from New York
to Chicago by any one of the trains described, it \\'ould be an
excellent idea to \ary the return trip by a \'isit to the National
Capital. This may be accomplished in the most satisfactory
manner by taking at Chicago any one of the celebrated trains of
42
the Pennsyhania System. These trains leave. Chicago at ditfer-
ent hours during the day, and carry cars through to Washington
as well as to New York. The route is the same as west-bound
from Chicago to Harrisburg, Pa. There the lines dixerge, and
the Washington portion of the train is sepa-
rated from the New York section and is for-
warded to the National Capital over another
branch of the Pennsylvania System. The
line to Washington shortly after
lea\'ing Harrisburg is carried
over the Susquehanna
by a substantial
viaduct, and fol-
lows the banks of
the picturesque
stream for many
miles. It also
traverses one of
the most attract-
ive and product-
ive agricultural sections of the Union, wherein green hills and
flowery meadows serxe to diversify the landscape. York, one
of the oldest and thriftiest towns in the State, devoted largely
to manufacturing enterprises, is the principal city passed, and
shortly after it vanishes in the distance the boundary of the
State of Maryland is cro.ssed. A beautiful stretch of country
spreads out from both sides of the railway, until the train enters
the prosperous commercial city of Baltimore. One may well
break the journey here, if one cares to see the most interesting
city of the upper South. Its handsome harbor, protected by
the guns of the historic Fort McHenry, its grain ele\'ators, its
monuments, its busy streets and beautiful parks, will well repay
the time dexoted to their inspection.
43
Leaving the Union Station at Baltimore the train proceeds
under the city, through a succession of tunnels, out into a flat
and uninteresting country for an hour's ride until the white
dome of the Capitol is outlined against the horizon, and you
recognize the fact that the capital of the United States has been
reached.
Returning to New York from Washington still another por-
tion of the Pennsylvania System offers its superior facilities.
Trains leave for Philadelphia and New York at almost every hour
of the day, and among them are some of the best examples of
the most completely-equipped fast trains of this great railway.
In describing the route to Chicago it has been assumed that
the traveler would go direct from New York to the World's Fair
City and visit the other cities as he leisurely returns to the East.
This is by no means necessary, and the reverse order may as well
be followed. The Chicago ticket will admit of a break in the
journey at any one or all of the points mentioned, and the traveler
may use his own discretion in stopping either as he goes west or
on the eastward trip.
In the following pages descriptive notes of the principal cities
en route between New York and Chicago are given.
The descriptive notes, brief as they are, will doubtless serve
to whet the curiosity, and at the same time help the traveler to
see all the points of interest in each city to the best advantage.
PHILADELPHIA.
ENTRALLY located in the very heart of the great
Quaker City in the midst of its most notable archi-
tectural section, there is no handsomer nor better-
appointed railroad station in America than the Broad
Street Station of the Pennsylvania Railroad Company
at Philadelphia, into which you are whirled oyer an ele-
'' vated road-bed that extends from beyond the Schuylkill
Ri\'er, the western boundary of the city proper, a mile and
a half away. Constructed of granite, ornamental brick, and
terra cotta in a picturesque combination of the gothic, Greek,
and Roman styles of architecture, its general beauty is enhanced
by a lofty clock tower which rises from its northeastern corner.
As you come down its broad sweep of stone steps and out
upon South Broad Street, a mammoth pile of white marble
rises up across the wa)', dwarfing the station with which it is
in most pronounced contrast, and like a might\' fortress seem-
ing to challenge your entrance to the city of the Quakers.
It is the new City Hall, and admittedly the largest public build-
ing in the United States, not eyen excepting the Capitol build-
ing at Washington. .Situated at the intersection of two of Phil-
adelphia's widest and most important thoroughfares, Broad Street
and Market Street, it may be said to mark the centre of the
city proper, both geographically and in point of population.
It has been in course of construction since i<87i, and it is still
by no means near completion. It covers an area of four and
one-half acres, not including the court-yard, two hundred feet
square, which is in its centre, nor the grand avenue, two hundred
and five feet wide on the northern front and one hundred and
thirty-fi\'c feet wide on the others, which surrounds it. It contains
(44)
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45
tive hundred and twenty rooms, and accommodates not only
the municipal offices, but the chambers of the Supreme Court of
Pennsylvania. The tower, which rises from the middle of its
pleted, reach a height of five
terminating' in a colossal statue
of the city. Chestnut Street,
cipal hotels are situated, is a
right as you make your exit
Pennsylvania Railroad han-
which are always in w^ait-
your left as you
street, will for
take you
tel wdth-
northern side, will, when com
hundred and thirty-seven leet,
of William Penn, the founder
on or near which the prin-
block and a half to your
from the station, and a
som, a number of
ing- in the court to
descend to the
fifty cents
to any ho-
in a mile
that you
may se-
lect, all of
which are
noted on '^:WI^^K^^M^^^^'- ' ^''': "'^P °^
the city. The
points of inter-
est in Philadelphia
' ' I ■ ' Irom a purely his-
.,...' , ^ :-^ torical standpoint are
nearly all to be found be-
ciTv HALL, PHiLADELPHL.. twcen thc ucw City Hall and
the Delaware River, which bounds the city on the east, but
Philadelphia is geographically the largest city in the Union, as
well as the third city in population, with its one million forty-
six thousand of inhabitants, and its landmarks, public institu-
tions, and other objects of interest to the visitor are of necessity
somewhat widely scattered.
-l6
Historically, IMiiladclphia is the most important ot" American
cities. Here it was that the hrst i^athering of representatives from
the American Colonies was
the Second Continental Con-
dependence, and here it was
ernmcntofthe
A walk of a
Street from ;
cipal shops, • ■
etary institu-
you to the old
ed Independ-
l^'iTfiii'Vr.v ■ iiVMtitiiiiiiiVnV, i.nvttnii|llli{!i 1 1 1 iTr:^!] (
held, in 1774 ; here it was that
gress declared the Colonies' in-
that the original seat of gov-
United States was established.
few blocks down Chestnut
your hotel, past the prin-
newspaper offices, and mon-
tions of the city, will bring
State House, now call-
_ ,-, ence Hall, where-
,il'.(;M''(i!H;i!!rl
^mmmmmmmmm^
in the
of Inde-
s i g n e d .
occupies the
block between
Streets, and it is
sides by smaller red
INIJKI'KMHvNCK HAI.l,,
Declaration
pendence was
The b u i 1 d i ng
middle of the
Fifth and Si.xth
Hanked on either
brick structures.
in the same general quaintly i)lain style of architecture, and
which are used as offices, court-ro(Jius, and halls of record by
47'
the city government. Within the southern vestibule of Independ-
ence Hall, and beneath the tower in which it originally hung, is
the old bell which proclaimed liberty to the American people,
and in a museum which occupies one of the rooms on the
ground floor are to be seen many relics of Revolutionary days.
In the room opposite are portraits of the signers of the Declara-
tion, the table upon which the instrument was signed, and other
furniture which had a place in the halls of Congress at that time.
The upper rooms are used as the City Council chambers pending
the removal of that body to the new City Hall. In the rear is
Independence Square.
Carpenters' Hall stands back from Chestnut Street two blocks
farther east, in the rear of an ornate banking building, and is
reached through a narrow court-way. In architecture it is similar
to the State House, but much smaller, and presents its gable end
to the street. Here the first Continental Congress assembled, and
here, as an inscription on the wall will tell you, " Henry, Hancock,
and Adams inspired the delegates of the Colonies with nerve and
sinew for the toils of war." It was built in 1770, and was first
intended only for the uses of the Society of Carpenters, by whom
it was founded. Its interior has been restored to as nearly as
possible its original revolutionary aspect, and its walls are hung
with relics of that period.
Christ Church, where in colonial days the royal officers at-
tended divine worship, and where, after the Revolutionary war,
the President and other officers of the United States had pews, is
three blocks northeast from Carpenters' Hall, on Second Street
above Market. Like the buildings already mentioned, it is of
red brick, and was built in 1727-31 on the site of the original
church erected in 1695. Its steeple contains a chime of bells cast
in London about the middle of the last century.
Another old church well worth inspection lies about a mile to
the south and just off Second Street. It is known as the Old
48
Swedes' Church, and was built in 1700 by the Scandinavian set-
tlers to take the place of a log' structure erected in 1677, four
years before the landing- of Penn, which served as both a place of
worship and a fort. The old grave-yard which surrounds it is
l)articularly interesting'. St. Peter's Church, at Third and Pine
Streets, and the Pine Street Presbyterian Church, at Fourth and
Pine Streets, are ecclesiastical structures that likewise date back to
colonial times.
On your way back to your hotel you may pass the Pennsyl-
vania Hospital building', which occupies, with its grounds, the
entire block bounded by Eighth and Ninth and Spruce and Pine
Streets, and which is one of the finest examples of colonial archi-
tecture still in existence. Built in 1755, the first clinical lectures
gi\'en in America were delivered within its walls.
Returning to Chestnut Street there are two or three objects of
interest that have thus far escaped you. It is possible that in
going' from the State House to Carpenters' Hall you have noticed
a marble structure just east of Fifth Street resembling the Parthe-
non at Athens, and have learned that, originally erected for the
Second United States Bank in 18 19-1824, it is now occupied by
the Collector of Customs for the Port of Philadelphia and the
Assistant Treasurer of the United States. You have, too, in all
]:)robabilit)', observed the Drexel Building adjoining it and ex-
tending to the corner of Fifth Street, in which the Philadelphia
Stock PZxchange has its cjuarters ; but you have nob yet had
I^ointed out to you the mammoth gray stone building at the cor-
ner of Ninth Street, popularly called the Post-Ofiice, but which
contains also the United States Court Rooms, and branch ofifices
of the Coast Survey, Geological Survey, the Light-House Board,
and of the Secret and Signal Service of the Government. In-
cluding the site, the building cost nearly $8,oco,ooo. The United
States Mint is about four blocks farther west, and is a most inter-
esting place to visit.
49
Having strolled from one end of Chestnut Street to the other,
a ride south on Broad Street as far as the Ridgway Library would
reward you with a view of one of Philadelphia's most imposing-
edifices, a branch of the Philadelphia Library (a free institution
that dates back to the time of Franklin), and the outcome of
a legacy of more than a million dollars left by Dr. John Rush,
who, with his wife, after whom it is named, lies buried within
its walls.
North Broad Street would also well repay a visit. Beyond the
new City Hall is the Masonic Temple, a granite structure of large
dimensions and ornamental design. The somewhat ornate home
of the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts, with one of the finest
picture galleries in the country and a most admirable art school,
occupies a corner one block farther north. In the next block is
the Hahnemann Medical College and Hospital, and then Broad
Street is, for a time, given up to manufactories, including, among
others, the Baldwin Locomotive Works. A few squares north of
this begins the residence part of the street, where many of the
most beautiful dwellings in the city are located.
About a mile to the west, leaving Broad Street at Girard
Avenue, you will find Girard College, with its forty acres of land,
and its several more or less picturesque buildings. This is an
educational institution for orphan boys, founded and endowed by
the late Stephen Girard.
Philadelphia's chief educational institution — the University of
Pennsylvania — is situated west of the Schuylkill River, in what
is known as West Philadelphia. Its buildings are large and its
grounds ample. It was first chartered in 1753, and the growth
in value since that time of the land that forms its endowment has
rendered possible its elevation to its present proud position. Of
its schools, which include almost every department of education,
the most celebrated is that of medicine, which ranks with the best
in the world.
50
On voui' way to the University, at Chestnut and Thirty-third
Streets you will obser\'e the handsome new building of the
Drexel Institute. It was constructed and endowed by the mu-
nificence of the eminent banker, Mr. A. J. Drexel, and its object
is the training of the young of both sexes in the paths of in-
dustry and art. It is a magnificent charity. The museum con-
tains many rare objects, and its library many books and manu-
scripts that cannot be found elsewhere.
Philadelphia's clubs, like its other institutions, are pretty well
scattered over its broad surface, but its principal ones are within
a short distance of Broad and Walnut Streets. Here are the
Philadelphia Club, the oldest and most exclusive ; the Union
League, the wealthiest ; the Art, the University, the Rittenhouse,
and the Manufacturers'.
In Fairmount Park Philadelphia possesses one of the largest
and most beautiful public pleasure-grounds in the world. Extend-
ing for seven miles along both sides of the Schuylkill River and
six miles along Wissahickon Creek, it is rich in natural scenery of
a most picturesque description. Its Zoological Gardens are the
finest in America, and it contains in its relics of the Centennial
Exposition of 1876 some highly attractive features. Among
the private residences of colonial days that are within its borders
are Mount Pleasant, once the home of Benedict Arnold, and
Belmont Mansion, where Judge Peters entertained Washington
and Lafayette. The brick house that William Penn built for
himself near vSecond and Market Streets has been remo\'ed to
the Park, and is an interesting landmark on one of its princi-
pal drives.
Days might be spent with profit among the numerous manu-
facturing establishments of Philadelphia, for it is a manufacturing
city primarily ; and it j^ossesses also numerous educational, char-
itable, religious, and other institutions that will yield a good return
for the time de\'(jted to their inspection.
1 Hotel Bichmond
2 Hotel Arno
3 Arlington Hotel
4 Portland Flats
5 Hamilton Hou.°e
e Hotel Normandie
7 Chamberlin's Hotel
8 The Shoreham
9 'Wormley's Hotel
10 Weloker's Hotel
11 Clarendon Hotel
13 Riggs House
13 'Willard'o Hotel
14 Randall House
15 Ebbitt House
16 Harris House
17 Metropolitan Hot<>l
18 Howard House
19 National Hotel
20 St. James Hotel
21 Belvidere Hotel
22 Cochran Hotel
23 Congressional Hotel
2i Tho Albacy
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5 Arlingtou Hotel
i Portland Plata
6 Hamllion Houf'e
e Hotel Normaudie
13 ■Vrillard'a Hotel
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15 Ebbitt Houso
16 Harris House
17 Metropolitau HoWl
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POTOMAC
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WASHINGTON.
WASHINGTON.
ASHINGTON, peculiarly unlike any other
American city, is also in striking dissimi-
larity to the other National capitals of the
world. It was created for the sole purpose
of being the seat of Government, and is
consequently in marked contrast with those
European capitals which were chosen as
such because of their pre-oininence in point
of population and commerce. Major L' En-
fant, a French engineer, prepared the topograph-
ical plan of the city under the direction of Presi-
dent Washington and Thomas Jefferson, who was
then Secretary of State, and took as his basis for the design
the topography of Versailles, the seat of government of France ;
introducing the scheme of broad transverse avenues intersecting
the main streets of the city, with constantly recurring squares,
circles, and triangular reservations, which you will find at this day
forming the main features of the city plan. The aggregate length
of the streets and avenues is two hundred and sixty-four miles,
and they are wider than those of any other city in the world.
There are twenty-one avenues in all, which bear the names of
various States in the Union, and along one of these, Pennsyl-
vania Avenue, the principal street of Washington, one hundred
and sixty feet in width, and extending from the Capitol to the
Treasury Department, you are almost certain to be dri\-en on
your way from the station to your hotel, which you will prob-
ably select from among the group located in the neighborhood
of the White House, or Executi\'e Mansion, and the Treasury
Department.
(51)
00
The principal show-place in Washington is the Capitol, the
dome of which you have already seen from a distance, and a
long-range view of which you have perhaps caught as you turned
into Pennsylvania Avenue. A street car of the Washington and
Georgetown line, or a Herdic coach, on either of which the fare
is five cents, lands you at the western front of this building, and
as you mount the grand stainvay and architectural terrace, and
walk around the Capitol to the east, you for the first time appreci-
ate the colossal proportions of this council hall of the Nation's
lawmakers, and are quite prepared to be told that it is seven
hundred and fifty-one feet long by three hundred and twenty-
four feet broad ; that it covers an area of three and a half acres,
and that its dome rises three hundred and ninety-seven feet above
low tide in the Potomac ; nor are you, as you gaze upon the
graceful proportions of its white marble walls and pillars, surprised
to learn that it has secured the almost unanimous praise of the
best judges of all countries as the most impressive modern edifice
in the world. You examine with some care the statuary which
adorns the portico, and the great bronze doors by Randolph
Rogers, representing, in alto-relievo, events in the life of Colum-
bus and the discovery of America, and then you pass into the
rotunda, which forms the central attraction of the Capitol, and
which consists of a circular hall, ninety-six feet in diameter by
one hundred and eighty feet in height to the canopy above, in
which is painted a mammoth fresco by Brumidi, representing
allegorical and historical subjects. Paintings of scenes from the
history of the nation also adorn the eight panels of the surround-
ing wall.
Passing from the rotunda by the \\est door you reach the
Library of Congress, which, with its six hundred and fifty thou-
sand volumes and three hundred thousand pamphlets, is the
largest library in the United States, and the fifth largest in the
world. From the rotunda you may also enter the room of
54
the Supreme Court, with its marble busts of the Chief Justices
of the United States, and from here also rises the stairway that
leads to the dome, from which, if you care to climb to it, a pano-
rama of unexampled beauty may be witnessed. Statuary Hall,
on the other side of the rotunda, contains a collection of statues
of the prominent soldiers, jurists, and statesmen ot each State.
In the north wing of the Capitol is the Senate Chamber, the
niches in the galleries of which ... ,^ are embellished with
marble busts of the Vice-Presi- "^'^ t?V" dents. In this wing-
also are the President's room, ^C'%^''^J • ^^^ Vice - Presi-
dent's room, 'the Marble i i '1, o./^^ Room, or Sena-
* %
tors' reception-room, and the several Senate
committee-rooms. In the south wing is the
Hall of Representati\'es, surrounded by the Speaker's room, the
House library, and the House committee-rooms. The grand
.stairways, leading from the se\'eral stories of the building, all
bear striking decorations, while the walls and ceilings of the
corridors, as well as of nearly e\'ery room, are celebrated for
the frescoes with which they are illuminated.
In leaving the Capitol you pass out of the western door and,
descending tlie grand stairway, with its wealth of scul])tured
55
adornment, take the broad walk to the right leading to the
Botanic Gardens, where you find in the conservatories some rare
examples of the flora of the tropics.
The Executive Mansion, the home of the President of the
United States, commonly spoken of as the White House, lies
at the other end of Pennsylvania Avenue, between the Treasury
building and that of the War, State, and Navy Departments.
It is a plain, stately structure of freestone, painted white, with a
colonnade of eight simple Ionic columns in front and a semi-
circular portico in the rear, and surrounded by grounds which
are given the semblance of a park by means of an array of fount-
ains, flowers, and shrubbery. The East Room is the one room in
the house that is open to visitors — a large, lofty apartment, dec-
orated in the Greek style. Upon its walls are the portraits of
Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln, and Mrs. Washington. The
other rooms on the ground floor — the Blue Room, Green Room,
and State dining-rooms, you find closed to you unless you ha\^e
special permission to visit them. On the upper floor are the
President's ofiice and those of his Secretaries, together with
the apartments of the Presidential family.
From the rear, windows of the White House a view is had of
the Washington obelisk, or national monument. It is the loftiest
construction of masonry in the world, the shaft of Maryland
marble rising to a height of five hundred and fifty-five feet.
The mighty pile of granite, iron, and slate which you notice
on your left as you leave the White House consists of four
harmonious buildings, united by connecting wings, and contains
the offices of the War, Navy, and State Departments. It covers
four and one-half acres ; its corridors combined are o\'er two
miles in length, and its total cost was nearly $11,000,000.
The Department of State, which is in the south wing, you
visit first, taking the elevator to the Library on the third floor,
where you are shown the original draft of the Declaration ol
56
Iiulcpcntlencc, the desk upon which it was written, and the
ori_s:^inal engrossed and signed copy, a case of historic relics, and
other objects of interest. The fifty thousand volumes in the
Library, including the works of the great writers of all ages on
international affairs, statutes, and State papers, treaties, leagues,
manifestos, and correspondence, make the finest collection of
the kind in the world, and form a spoke of invincible strength
in the great wheel of State. Here, in the room set apart for
commissions and pardons, you see the great seal of the Union,
and in rooms adjoining and above are found the archives of the
nation. The diplomatic reception-room is on the floor below,
as are also the diplomatic ante-room and the office of the Secre-
tary of State.
In the east wing of the building is the Navy Department, the
office of the Secretary of the Navy occupying a position oj^posite
the central stair-cases, which are themselves a beautiful feature of
the interior, extending from the basement to the attic. In the
corridor you find some superb models of the modern war ships of
the United States, and ascending to the fourth floor you visit the
Department Library. Other features of this wing are the Hydro-
graphic Office, with its chart printing press, the largest in the
United States, and the ofiice of the Nautical Almanac.
The magnificent suite of apartments of the Secretary of War
is on the second floor of the west wing, and your visit thereto
is repaid by a view of a collection of portraits of the secretaries
and distinguished generals.
At the northeast corner of Seventeenth Street and Pennsyl-
vania Avenue you step in at the Corcoran Art Gallery, which,
though not a public institution in the sense of being under the
patronage of the Government, is one of Washington's most inter-
esting institutions. In its galleries you view an admirable col-
lection of paintings and sculpture, one bit of statuary. Powers'
" Greek slave," being in itself worth the visit.
57
In passing Lafayette Park, on your way to the Treasury Build-
ing, you halt for a moment to view the statue of Lafayette and
his compatriots, Count de Rochambeau and ChevaHer Duportaie,
of the French army, and Counts D'Estaing and De Grasse, of
the French navy, the work of Antoine Falquiere and Antonin
Mercie, and erected In 1890 in pursu- ^ ance of an order of
Congress ; and then, finding that
Department of Justice and the
PENNS\LVANI\ KAILRl)\D ST \TIOV,
WASHINGTON, D. C.
Court of Claims are on your route, you visit both of these.
The enormous building of the Treasury Department has four
fronts, the western of which, facing the city, represents the older
part of the structure, and is of Virginia freestone, while the other
three, built subsequently, are of Maine granite, the monolithic
columns of which, on the south front, are among the largest in the
world. On entering the building you pass Into the cash-room.
58
where all cash disbursements in payment of drafts on the Treasury
are made, and at the eastern end of which there is a cash vault for
current moneys of the United States, containing something like
$40,000,000 at a time. In the basement is the redemption
division, where women are engaged in counting, canceling, and
destroying notes that have been sent to the Treasury for redemp-
tion. In the sub-basement, under the northern court, are the gold
and silver vaults. In the office of the Supervising Architect, also
in this building, you see the drawings and plans of the public
buildings erected in the United States, while on the third floor in
the quarters of the Secret Service Division of the Treasury, you
come upon not only a collection of photographs of counterfeiters,
Init a collection of implements used by them as well. The Secre-
tary of the Treasury has his offices on the second floor.
You now proceed to get a view of the south front of the White
House by strolling into the President's grounds, where, it it be
after half-past five of a Saturday afternoon, you find the Marine
Hand playing on the lawn. You find, too, on the other side of B
Street the United States Fish-Ponds, where carp and other fish are
propagated ; you get a better notion of the colossal proportions
of the Washington Obelisk than you did from the windows of the
East Room ; and you see the forcing houses and nurseries where
trees, shrubs, flowers, and foliage plants are propagated by the
Government for the ornamentation of its public parks and reser-
vations.
In this vicinity you discover are the Bureau of Engraving and
Printing, where you see the process of manufacture of paper
money and bonds ; the Department of Agriculture, with its
building, its grounds, and its conservatories, in each of which you
find something to interest you ; the Smithsonian Institution and
National Museum, with their specimens of birds, beasts, fishes,
]K)ttery, ceramics, and textiles ; the Army Medical Museum and
Library, in which are exhibits of medical supplies, two hundred
59
thousand books on medical subjects, and wax models showing
wounds and diseases ; and the building of the Fish Commission
with its illustrations of fish-hatching and its aquarium.
The department buildings yet to be seen are those of the In-
terior Department — the Patent Office and the Pfension Office — and
that of the Post-Office Department. These are located near
together, north of Pennsyh'ania A\-enue, and about midway
between the Treasury Department and the Capitol. The great
granite, freestone, and marble edifice you see covering two
blocks between Seventh and Ninth
Streets and F and G Streets is the
Patent Office, and you re\^-
el for hours in its museum
of 'models, which;
includes every machine or de-
vice ever patented in the United
States, numbering in all about~two
hundred thousand. In its superb
halls you also find many objects of historic interest, including
the original printing press used by Benjamin Franklin.
Across the street from the Patent Office, on the south, is the
General Post-Office, in which the Postmaster-General has his
offices, and on the third floor of which you find some most
curiously addressed envelopes and other writings in the Dead
Letter Office Museum.
The Pension Office, a few blocks to the east, is the newest of
all the public buildings of Washington, and is in strong contrast
SOUTH FRONT OF THE WHFrE HOL'SK.
6o
witli tlie others in point of simplicity as well as in the materials
used in its construction, being built of brick, terra cotta, and iron.
In this the ball on the occasion of the inauguration of a President
is held, and it possesses in its grand court ample accommodation
for such a gathering. In its many rooms the business of the Pen-
sion Bureau is conducted.
Among the other show-places of the national capital, each and
all of which will well repay a visit, are the Naval Observatory at
the foot of Twenty-foiu^th Street, on the banks of the Potomac,
where is one of the largest telescopes in the world ; the Army
Barracks, at the foot of Four and One-half Street, historically in-
teresting because here stands the old Penitentiary, made famous
by the prominent part it played in the trials following the assas-
sination of President Lincoln ; the Navy Yard and Gun Foundry,
which is the chief place in the country for the manufacture of
na\al supplies, and where you find an interesting museum of
na\al relics ; the Marine Barracks, where, in the armory, concerts
are gi\en by the Marine Band ; the Congressional Cemetery,
where are buried several Congressmen of the early century, two
Vice-Presidents — Gerry and Clinton — and generals, admirals, and
others of national renown ; the United States Jail, where Guiteau,
the assassin of President Garfield, was confined and eventually
hanged ; and the Government Printing Office, wherein are printed
the Congressional Record and the tliousand and one reports,
schedules, speeches, and other papers that are deemed worthy of
duplication and circulation.
Should you stop in Washington long enough you will de\'ote
se\eral days to excursions into the suburbs. You will visit Oak
Hill Cemetery in Georgetown, or West Washington, which is one
of the most beautiful cities of the dead in the country ; you will
go out to Arlington, on the Virginia shore of the Potomac, which
affords an excellent example of the homestead of an old Virginia
lamily, where you will see the gra^•es of sixteen thcjusand .soldiers
6i
who fell in the struggle between the North and the South ; and
you will take a drive through the most fashionable residence por-
tion of the city and suburbs
to the great Falls of the Po-
tomac, where the city reser-
voir is located, and on which
you will see some of the most
picturesque scenery around
Washington. Mount Ver-
non, the home of Washing-
ton, which remains in all its
appointments just as it was
when occupied by the Father
of his Country, must also be
visited, as must the Soldiers'
Home and the National
Cemetery with its fifty-four
hundred and twenty-four graves of soldiers and its granite
memorial chapel, in which are the remains of General John A.
Losfan.
CHICAGO.
JUMBLE of vehicles, a murmur of many sounds swell-
ing into a roar, an all-per\ading cdor of bituminous
' smoke, a street corner with an iron canopy stretch-
ing high above your head across the sidewalk and
a row of picturesque buildings opposite. Some
one reaches forward for the red ticket with its
little punched out holes that you have in your
hand ; a voice says : ' ' This way, sir ! " the
open door of an omnibus appears before you,
and then you hnd that you have taken the only vacant seat
inside, that the door has closed with a slam, that the horses,
answering promptly to the snapping of the dri\'er's long whip,
have wheeled sharply to the left, and that your conveyance is
picking its way through the riot of wagons, carts, trucks, cabs,
and street-cars. Away you go over a narrow iron bridge that
is swung across an almost equally narrow stream, and a man
on your right tells you that you are crossing the Chicago
River, which divides the city into its several sections, and
which constitutes an essential part of the city's harbor. Then
you plunge into a canon between huge mountains of stone
— a succession of streets overshadowed by mammoth build-
ings ; streets over whose gray, grimy pavements surges the tide
of the city's commerce ; past the front of the Board of Trade,
through the wide doors of which men and boys are swarming
as bees swarm in and out of a hive ; down this thoroughfare
and across that ; by great piles of building material out of which
new spindling structures are mounting to the smoke-veiled
heavens ; beside low tumble-clown shanties that you fancy must
have been built just after the fire of twenty years ago, and that
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63
appear not to have been touched since ; and then a sudden flash
of light, a knninous sky reflected by and melting into a broad
expanse of blue-green waters, cold as steel, and you have
emerged upon the lake front and are rolling along a white, well
sprinkled, and therefore dustless, boulevard, the verdant sward
of the lake park on one side and one marvel of architectural
beauty after another on the other.
You hear the city called the eighth wonder of the world, and
spoken of as having been built in a day, because its growth has
been more rapid than Jack's beanstalk. As compared with the
cities of the East, Chicago is a mere infant in arms, but sitch an
infant ! Though not incorporated until 1837, when its population
numbered only forty-one hundred and seventy souls, and its area
was but ten or eleven square miles, it has in the intervening period,
in spite of disasters that would have discouraged nine hundred
and ninety-nine cities of a thousand, grown until by the last cen-
sus it was shown to be the second city in the Union and the sixth
in the world, with one million ninety-eight thousand five hundred
and seventy-six people within its one hundred and eighty-two
square miles of territory.
In the great fire of 1871 $200,000,000 worth of property was
swept away by the flames. The fire burned for two days and
more, sweeping over sixty-five acres every hour, and eating up
seven and a half millions every sixty minutes, and yet there is
not a Chicagoan living who will not say that the fire was a bless-
ing in disguise. From the ruins of that conflagration rose the
Chicago of to-day. Since 1876 fifty-seven thousand buildings
have been erected at a cost of $256,000,000, and with a .street
frontage of two hundred and fifty-six miles ; Chicago has a park
system now that is one of tlie most magnificent in the world,
embracing nineteen hundred and seventy-five acres ; her boule-
vards and drives are unequaled in America ; her commerce
amounts to over a billion and a quarter dollars per annum ; every
64
year she handles from $200,000,000 to $300,000,000 worth of
hve stock ; Chicago is the greatest raih'oad centre in the world —
twenty-six independent lines entering" the city; $190,000,000 are
invested in manufacturing establishments, which employ one hun-
dred and seventy-seven thousand hands, to whom $96,000,000 is
paid in wages, and whose products reach a value of $528,000,000 ;
and the city is, moreover, the greatest maritime port in the United
States, the daily arrivals and clearances of vessels exceeding those
of New York by nearly fifty per cent.
A train of cable-cars, four long, glides by you with a whirring
sound and goes speeding up the long, wide, straight avenue ;
another train of equal length, coming the other way, whirls
around a curve at the corner on which you are standing, halts
for a second to let oft" a passenger, and disappears down the
cross street ; a policeman motions you and the other waiting
pedestrians forward, and, raising his baton threateningly, keeps
back an all-too-eager expressman who would ha\'e run you down
without a single compunction of conscience ; a hansom cab dashes
by at the officer's back ; a messenger boy, with a cigarette be-
tween his lips, stops you midway betwixt cable track and curb-
stone to request a light from your cigar ; a fakir, endeavoring to
sell a patent shoe blacking to a crowd, is telling ancient jokes in
order to gain attention ; and three newsboys are fighting o\er
one customer who has signified his intention to buy a newspaper.
You have spent the morning in the streets of Chicago. You
have walked up one and down the next, through this and along
that, until the high buildings have become familiar and the dime
museums, with their host of pictures decorating their fronts, have
begun to seem like old friends. You have seen the Chicago
business man, pushing, rushing, and driving as though he had
this day only in which to put his affairs in order prior to depart-
ure for another sphere ; you have seen him on his way to his
office an hour or two after dawn,' you ha\e watched him as he
65
hurries through his hnicheon at mid-day, and you have found
him in too much haste to return to his labors to direct you to the
City Hall, scarcely a block away. You have seen the Chicago
woman in her street garb, looking much like other American
women, save perhajos a little larger and a trifle more florid in her
A PITT! RFSi.ini
\ RAILROAD.
style than her Eastern sisters, and you have seen the Chicago
crowd, restless, nervous, and surging.
You have found the City Hall yourself at last, and now you
are at one of its four corners and are taking in at a glance the
grandeur of its architectural bulk and detail. It is, you dis-
cover, a dual structure that occupies this entire block bounded by
66
Clark, La Salle, Washington, and Randolph Streets, not only
the City Hall, but the County Court-House as well. Its style is
that of the modern French renaissance, and its material partly
Upper Silurian limestone from Illinois cjuarries and partly — its
columns, pilasters, and medals — of Maine granite.
It is the successor to the old court-house which stood on
the same site in the centre of a beautiful green park ; and which
on that fatal Sunday night in October, 187 1, while its bell was
still clanging out the dread alarm, took fire from a piece of
burning timber, carried by the strong wind for miles, and was
totally destroyed. The present building was begun in 1877,
upon the ruins of the old one, and was completed five years
later, the total cost being something like 5^5,000,000.
You enter from the Washington Street side the tunnel-like
corridor that extends through the entire length of the base-
ment, peep in for a moment at the Health Department, pay a
brief visit to the City Detective office, where is located the so-
called "sweat-box," where criminals or suspected criminals are
subject to the "pumping" process before they are regularly
committed, and get an idea of the Chicago police force from
the Central District station, and a notion of the fire alarm
system in the offices devoted to that department of the muni-
cipal service. On the first floor, to which you ascend, you
find the offices of the Department of Public Works, police
headcjuarters, and the offices of the mayor of the city. Here,
too, the city's finances are kept in order, while on the floor
above are found the rooms of the municipal law department and
the Board of Education offices. The council chamber, in which
the city's sixty-eight aldermen meet and legislate for the peo])le,
is on the fourth floor, and there, also, is the public library, with
its one hundred and sixty thousand volumes, and its reading-
room, which is patronized by about seven hundred thousand
])eople annually.
67
In the Court-House you are of course chiefly interested in the
courts, where you get an impression of American justice as ad-
ministered in Chicago ; but you take time to visit the offices of
the sheriff and the corCner, both of whom, being county officers,
here have their apartments.
La Salle Street, upon which you emerge, is the money street
of the city. All about you are banking institutions, brokerage
offices, insurance companies, real estate agencies. A block to
the south, as you walk in the direction of the Board of Trade,
which seemingly bars the street at its southern extremity, you
pass on one corner the Union Building, which includes among its
numerous tenants the Western Union Telegraph Company, sev-
eral banks, and the office of the Western Associated Press ; and
on the other, the enormous Chamber of Commerce Building,
which in many respects is the finest commercial structure in the
world and one of the largest office buildings in the country ; and
from now on one high building after another towers up around
you, and you know by instinct that you are in the heart of
Chicago. This central -business section is one mile square, and
is bounded by the lake on one side, the river on two others, and
a tremendous system of railways on the fourth. These bound-
aries, of course, cannot be put back, and if the heart of Chicago
is to expand it must expand upward. Into this space every one
who has a business desires to get, and these sky-scraping office
buildings are the result. It has been suggested that this entire
area should be covered with just such buildings as you see around
you — buildings from ten to twenty stories in height — and that
the streets should be double- decked to afford those doing busi-
ness or having business in the region a mode of ingress and
egress. A simple calculation, however, based on the se\-eral
buildings of this class already in existence, has shown that if
such a plan were to be carried out the number of people em-
ployed in the area named would be something like a million and a
69
half, and that even with the proposed double-decked streets their
coming and going would be an utter impossibility. As it is, be-
tween half-past five and half-past six o'clock of an evening the
streets in this part of the city are so thronged with the occupants
of the big buildings that locomotion is of necessity both slow and
laborious.
The Chamber of Commerce Building is divided into five hun-
dred offices ; there are an equal number in the Tacoma Build-
ing, which mounts to a height that is dizzy to contemplate
from the corner of La Salle and Madison Streets ; and the
Rookery, the most magnificent of all the great office structures,
exceeds each of these in accommodations by over one hundred
rooms.
"The Rookery," by the way, which you examine with some
care, as being typical of the class of buildings you have found
dominant in the neighborhood, was erected at a cost of a million
and a half of dollars, exclusive of the ground, which belongs to
the city, on the site occupied after the fire by the temporary muni-
cipal building', a frame structure hastily put up, which immedi-
ately began to fall to pieces, and which was given the name of
"Rookery" out of contempt for its poor construction, and the
crowding necessitated by the inadequacy of its dimensions. The
present building has been built and finished in the most expen-
sive fashion throughout. Twelve stories in height, its two lower
stories are formed by massive squares of gray granite, whose
heavy appearance is somewhat neutralized by the large columns
of polished red granite. From the second story up the building-
is of fire-proof brick and iron.
Near by the Rand-McNally Building, the Insurance Exchange,
Mailer's Building, the Gaff" Building, the Counselman Building,
and several other great structures, mounting upward for from ten
to twelve stories, and directly before you, as you turn southward
once more, is the gray granite building of the Board of Trade,
70
with its swarm of human hva, its graceful tower, and its remark-
able weather vane — a lake schooner fifteen feet in length, with rig-
ging in proportion.
Now you climb to the tower and get a bird's-eye view of the
city and Lake Michigan, and descending to the street again turn
to your right past the Grand Pacific Hotel and visit the Post-
Office and Custom-House, which occupy what is locally called
the Government Building, a huge structure built on the square
Ijounded by Dearborn, Clark, Adams, and Jackson Streets.
It is not impossible that you have an invitation to dine at
the Union League Club, the smoke-begrimed walls of whose
building are now in view across the street. In such an event
you secure an excellent notion of club life in Chicago, for the rea-
son that the club mentioned is the great general commercial and
professional club of the city. It has an active membership of
twelve hundred, its revenue is large, and with regard to interior
fittings, furnishing, and decorations it possesses the most elegant
house in the Western metropolis. You are served with an excel-
lent dinner, and then prior to a proposed visit to some one of the
theatres, you inspect the Club Library and Art Gallery, and
depart well satisfied that the Chicago man understands the advan-
tages of club comforts as well as business conveniences.
Among the other prominent clubs of Chicago, you are told,
are the Chicago Club, the Illinois Club, the Iroquois Club, the
University Club, the Marquette Club, the Standard Club, the
Calumet Club, the Union Club, and the Press Club.
To make a selection of a theatre in which to spend the even-
ing is not difficult, since Chicago pos.sesses in the Auditorium
one of the most spacious and beautiful play-houses in the world.
In point of fict it surpasses any theatre in this or any other
country in four essential particulars — equipment for stage pur-
poses, interior decorative work, acoustic properties, and the con-
venience and comfort of its audiences.
71
Entering from Congress Street you pass through a grand ves-
tibule, with ticket offices on each side, to a mosaic-paved lobby,
beneath a low-vaulted ceiling pillared by shapely columns and
jetted with electric lights. On your right are several large cloak-
rooms, while on your left a broad marble stair-case, protected by
solid bronze balusters, rises to the foyer. Once within the Audi-
torium your eyes are greeted with the soft radiance of a harmony
in yellow. Walls, ceilings, pillars, and balconies have all been
treated in beautiful gradations of the same color, and the whole
glows richly beautiful beneath the brilliance of over live thousand
electric lights. You count forty boxes hung with delicately tinted
plush curtains, and an usher vouchsafes the information that the
seating capacity of the house is four thousand and fifty.
The entire Auditorium structure, which fronts on three streets
— Michigan Avenue, Congress Street, and Wabash Avenue —
includes, beside the theatre in which you are seated, a hotel with
four hundred guest-rooms, a business portion with one hundred
and thirty-six offices and store-rooms, a recital hall capable of
seating five hundred people, and a tower two hundred and
twenty-five feet high. Its total cost was $2,000,000, and its
weight is one hundred and ten thousand tons.
Among the many other excellent theatres in Chicago, several
of which you have passed in your stroll about town during the
day, are Hooley's Theatre, where high-class comedy is the i-ule;
the Chicago Opera House, where burlesque is a specialty, and
the Grand Opera House, where comic opera usually reigns,
which face the City Hall from three dififerent sides ; and in the
same neighborhood is McVicker's Theatre, on Madison Street,
one of the most beautiful play-houses in the United States.
The play over you may get an admirable notion of the society
element of Chicago by stopping in for 'supper at the Auditorium,
the Richelieu, or the Wellington, but if you prefer to visit a
characteristically Chicago restaurant where well-to-do citizens and
72
theirs'wives eat oysters and drink bfeer at adjoining tables with
variety actors and actresses and other Bohemians, you take a cab
to Rector's, at the corner of Monroe and Clark Streets, and de-
scend into that enormous basement with its floors of marble, its
walls of white glazed brick, and its many flashing mirrors.
The shops of Chicago you will see, of course, by daylight,
and with this object in view you devote yourself for a morning
to a stroll north on State Street, which is the longest thorough-
fare in the city, and back again to your starting point by way of
Clark Street, which, because it penetrates the north division of
the city, is regarded as the great north and south artery.
In the shopping district the principal points of interest are
the "Leiter" building, extending from Congress Street to Van
Buren Street : the " Fair" building, at the corner of State and
Adams Streets; and the "Leader," on the opposite side of
Adams Street.
At State and Madison Streets you have dry-goods houses on
all sides of you. The great dry-goods house of America, how-
ever, is that of Marshall, Field & Co., the retail branch of which
you discover at the next corner, extending over one-half a square.
As for the firm's wholesale department it is something like half
a mile away, occupying a whole block, built of granite and
sandstone.
If you continue your stroll three blocks farther, passing the
Central Music Hall Building, in which is located the College of
Music, and the magnificent Masonic Temple, with its twenty
stories, you will reach South Water Street with its tangle of
wagons, its piles of fruit boxes and chicken crates, and its pyra-
mids of barrels — in other words, the fruit, vegetable, and poultry
market of the city.
You return to your starting place by way of Clark Street, which
lies two blocks to the west. For the first few squares you remark
a great number of drinking saloons, which are to be accounted
CHICAGO (Business Portion )
73
for by the fact that the City Hall is not far away. Here, too,
are cheap restaurants and a variety theatre, and then the Sher-
man House, a hotel on the corner of Randolph Street, facing
the Municipal and County Building, looms up. In the next
block is the Chicago Rialto, the stamping ground of actors out of
engagements, several railroad ticket offices, more bar-rooms, and
a little farther south, in the old days, there was to be found the
dominion of King Faro and his subjects.
Approaching Madison Street the crowd increases, and you find
the jam at this corner even worse than at the corner of State and
Madison. Now you pass a Dime Museum with its garish pict-
ures, and in the same block you discover a noted restaurant of
the ' ' economy and plenty ' ' order — a restaurant patronized prin-
cipally by country visitors, and at which about seven thousand
meals are said to be served daily ; while still farther to the south
you may inspect an excellent example of the American coffee-
house, M^here breakfast customers are each presented with a
morning newspaper that they are permitted to take with them
when they depart.
Now you have passed the Government Building and are in the
neighborhood of your hotel once more, where you drop in for
luncheon, and order a carriage for an afternoon drive along the
boulevards and through the principal cesidence portion of the
city, which lies to the south and in the neighborhood of the Lake
front.
It is needless for you to attempt to see the entire Park sys-
tem in one afternoon, or even one day, for the city is encircled by
six large parks which are connected with one another by thirty-
seven and one-half miles of boulevards ; and there are in addition
to these several smaller parks in different parts of the city.
When you engage your carriage you tell the driver that you
want to see where the prominent men of Chicago live, and he
starts his horses off at a rattling pace down Michigan Avenue
74
to Sixteenth Street. Then he wheels sharply to the left, and
after traversing two blocks turns into Prairie Avenue. The
probabilities are that you will be disappointed with the street and
the dwelling-houses upon it. You have heard, perhaps, that the
wealthy men of Chicago live in palaces, and so a great many of
them do, but the
residents of Prairie
Avenue, for the
most part, have
long ago passed
that stage of weak-
ness which de-
mands display. If
the exteriors be
somewhat lacking
in ornamentation,
and appear some-
what rusty and
time-worn, the in-
teriors are by no
means wanting in
either comfort or
elegance. The
walls of niany are
hung with the
works of the great-
est masters, and
the libraries are libraries in fact as well as name. All this your men-
tor tells you as you drive along, and as he points out the houses
of one millionaire after another. Farther to the south on Calumet
Avenue are the homes of other opulent Chicagoans, and the same
may be 'said of the Grand Boulevard and, of Michigan Avenue,
too, into which you turn for the trip back to your hotel.
A MOUNTAIN VISTA.
75
You have, in this drive, been impressed with the extent and
the excellent order of the wide boulevards, their firm, dustless,
macadamized driveways, their picturesque borders of trees and
flowers, and their numerous signs of " No traffic teams allowed,"
and yet you have had but a mere glimpse of the system, and have
not even so much as neared the south parks, where are the build-
ings of the World's Columbian Exposition.
The Lake Shore drive, which you plan to take in the morning,
including a visit to Lincoln Park, the most northern of the public
pleasure grounds, is over the grandest boulevard in the city, and
past some of its most palatial mansions. This excursion, too,
shows you the new sea-wall which is being built out into the lake
at an expense that is simply enormous, but which will when com-
pleted inclose a long, broad body of lake water available for
sailing and rowing, and afford a handsome paved beach, espla-
nade, and driveway. You may, moreover, if you so desire, stop
on your way and inspect the City Water- Works, at the southern
end of the Lake Shore drive ; and then proceeding to Lincoln
Park revel to your heart's content in the many natural and
artificial beauties it afifords— its undulating lawns, its gracefully
winding avenues, its placid lakes, its handsome bridges, its rich
floral displays, its zoological gardens, and its monuments and
statuary. You return to the city by way of Dearborn Avenue,
where you are amazed to find a double row of handsome dwell-
ings stretching for miles, and equaling, if not exceeding, in pict-
uresqueness and variety those that you have already seen.
Your driver, if he takes a friendly interest in you, now suggests
that you see the County Jail, in which the Anarchists who incited
the riot and threw the dynamite bombs on that fatal night of May
4th, 1886, were confined and hanged ; and so on reaching Mich-
igan Street you turn off" to the right and stop before the old-
fashioned prison, built after the manner of jails constructed in the
early years of the present century.
76
This visit and the chatter with which you are now favored con-
cerning the dynamiters induces you to make another detour
when you come to Randolph Street, turning westward to Hay-
market Square, where the police monument is erected to the
honor of the brave officers who risked or sacrificed their lives in
defense of the law, and in commemoration of the death of Anarchy
in the city. The scene of the traged}', in which seven policemen
were killed outright or died shortly after as a result of their wounds,
is pointed out to you on Desplaines Street, between the Haymar-
ket* and an alley running east, and you look with some degree
of awe upon the street in front of Crane Brothers' manufactory,
where stood the wagon from which the Anarchist speakers ad-
dressed the mob, and near which the terrible explosion occurred.
One of the greatest show-places in the city you have yet to
visit. Chicago is a great manufacturing city, and a great com-
mercial city, but its greatest industry is its live stock business,
and to see Chicago and not see the Union Stock Yards is to
see the play of ' ' Hamlet ' ' with Hamlet left out. So you put
on some old clothes and take a State Street cable-car going
south, and transfer at Forty-third Street to a car going west.
At the entrance to the yards, which cover a tract of over four
hundred acres, you gladly avail yourself of the proffered services
of a guide, who conducts you throughout the vast inclosure, ex-
plaining everything as you go. "The plant of the Union Stock
Yards Company," he tells you, " cost $4,000,000, and the various
packing companies having buildings in the vicinity have invested
in their business something like $17,000,000 additional. The
number of employes at the yards is twenty-four thousand five
hundred, and the yards' greatest capacity is twenty thousand
head of cattle, twelve thousand hogs, and fifteen thousand head
of sheep. There are here twenty miles of wood-paved streets,
twenty miles of drinking troughs supplied with fresh water from
six artesian wells, and fifty miles of feeding troughs."
7«
You walch with interest the process of turning a live bullock
into so much beef, and are surprised not a little at the way in
which the labor is di\'ided, the rapidity with which the transfor-
mation is accomplished, and the careful manner in which every
part of the beast is utilized for one purpose or another. You see
the swine driven in and weighed, you see it killed, bled, and
scalded, and its bristles shaved off and preserved, and you see it
quartered, the hams and shoulders going one way and the sides
into a pickle bath. So, too, you see the sheep changed into
mutton, and you turn away wondering at the appetite of the
world that consumes all this meat and more daily.
You have now received a fairly good idea of the city and its
principal points of interest, but there still remain many other
features that, if you have the time to spare, you may visit with
profit. You may, for instance, run out to the town of Pullman,
ten miles south of the city, on the shore of Lake Calumet, which,
founded by George M. Pullman, the palace-car magnate, realizes,
in some respects, the supreme idea of socialism, though no com-
munity probably is more unsatisfactory to the socialistic dreamer.
Primarily it is the home of the extensive car-works of the Pullman
Palace Car Company, which have a capacity of about $10,000,-
000 worth of cars per annum, about fifty passenger, freight, and
street cars being completed daily ; but there are in the town, you
will find, many other objects worth seeing.
So, too, in Chicago itself there are other points that a month's
visit would fail to exhaust — the manufactories, the libraries, the
Art Institute, the charitable institutions, the House of Correction,
the Fire Department, the schools and colleges, the museums, the
cycloramas, the railroad depots, the bridges, the tunnels, the via-
ducts, the wharves, the street-car system, the elevated railroads,
the banks and clearing-houses, the relics of old Chicago when it
was but a swamp between prairie and lake, the fire relics, and a
host of other matters and things that the city can alone suggest,
THE WORLD'S
COLUMBIAN EXPOSITION OF 1893.
UT one and a half years ago two-thirds
of Jackson Park was a wilderness —
two or three small groves of scrub
oak and maple, with here and there
a clump of fiery sumac alone break-
ing the dreary waste of swamp
land. When, in May, 1893, the
President of the United States shall
proclaim the Columbian Exposition
open, these same broad acres on the
shore of Lake Michigan will bear upon their breast a city more
beautiful than artist's brush ever dared to picture or poet's fancy
to sing — a city whose pinnacles will pierce the clouds and whose
glistening domes will rival in dazzling glory the effulgence of the
sun itself ; a city that will teem with treasures gathered from the
four corners of the earth ; a city in which the wonders of the age
will be grouped in alluring yet embarrassing profusion ; a city in
whose harbor will be gathered the marine craft of four centuries,
and through whose streets will saunter visitors from every clime.
You stand upon the huge pier jutting far out into the lake
and gaze about you. The transformation is now complete. It
is the spring of 1893. The last nail has been driven, the last
exhibit has been put in place, the great gates have been flung
wide, and the World's Columbian Exposition is an accom-
plished fact. From this coign of vantage you get your first
view of what has been prepared for you. Hitherto you have
been told a good deal about the Fair in a general way. You
(79)
8o
know, for instance, that it extends over not only Jackson Park,
with its five hundred and eighty-six acres, but that Washington
Park, a mile away, with its three hundred and seventy- one acres,
and the connecting strip of land, eighty acres in extent, called
Midway Plaisance, have also been utilized to a greater or less
extent, and you realize how much more stupendous it must be
than the Paris Exposition of 1889, which, with the Champ de
Mars, the Trocadero, the Esplanade des Invalides, and the quays,
took in but one hundred and seventy-three acres in all. You
remember, too, that the principal buildings here cover one hun-
dred and fifty acres, while those at Paris covered but fifty-five,
and you are consequently prepared, in a measure, for the spec-
tacle which rises up before you as you look across the crystal
surface of the breakwater-protected harbor, with its many and
varied craft, to the gracefully curving shore line and the mag-
nificent group of buildings beyond.
To your right, and by far the most conspicuous object from
the lake, is the long, high, yet thoroughly symmetrical structure
of the Manufactures and Liberal Arts Building, its extraordinary
length broken midway by a lofty arched entrance between elabo-
rately ornamented piers and surmounted by bright-hued banners
that seem, so high are they, to be fluttering among the clouds,
while higher still above it all rises the domed roof of glass re-
flecting the blue of the heavens. Along its whole extent, too,
at intervals, upon the green lawns that slope from its ivory-
colored walls to the white stone esplanade that skirts the lake,
you notice picturesque little cafes with gaudy awnings, and be-
yond, before the turreted structure from which the stars and
.stripes are flying, and which you know mu.st be the building
of the United States Government, you get a long-distance view
of blue-uniformed troops going through a series of evolutions
upon the parade ground in front of an encampment of snowy
tents ; while just ofl^ shore here, as if to contrast the navy with
8i
the army, you discover the white hull, spindling mast, and short
smoke stacks of a line of battle ships.
Directly before you, across a broad colonnade, beneath which
a high and wide arch gives free access from the harbor to the
canal system of the grounds, and along which, equidistantly
spaced, are forty-eight symbol-capped columns representative of
the forty-eight States and Territories of the Union, is the grand
avenue with its broad, gondola-flecked basin, from whose mir-
ror-like surface rises St. Gauden's colossal statue of "Liberty."
Fountains are throwing aloft a myriad jets that glitter in the
sunlight like so many endless ropes of dazzling gems, and on
either side the beautiful facades of the Liberal Arts and the
Agricultural Buildings face each other from the top of ter-
races that gradually slope to the dividing waters. At the far
end of the basin, flanked by the Machinery Hall on one side
and the Electrical and Mining Buildings on the other, you de-
scry the blazing domes of the Administration Building, and
even at this distance you concede the good judgment of those
who predicted that this, of all the structures on the grounds,
would be the crowning triumph of the Exposition.
The colonnade, across which this view is presented, and
which, in its general features, reminds you of that leading to
St. Peter's, at Rome, connects, you now observe, two build-
ings, and from the one at the north, even as you begin to ad-
mire its shapely outline, there floats out to you across the
harbor the music of many voices. It is the Music Hall of the
Fair, and a Musical Congress is holding daily sessions within
its spacious walls. The building to the south, a guard tells
you, serves as a restaurant, while as for the curious little
structure on that tongue of rising ground, projecting into the
lake, at this restaurant's southeastern corner, it is an exact
copy of the Convent of La Rabida, at Palos, in which Colum-
bus lived while perfecting his plans for his voyage of discovery,
.S2
Recalled thus to a realization of the event that the Expo-
sition celebrates, and remembering that among the features of
the naval pageant recently held in New York Harbor were
models of the caravel Santa Maria, and her consorts Pinta
and Nina, the fleet with which Columbus crossed the Atlantic,
you search among the many curious and incongruous vessels
anchored or drifting in the harbor for these copies of the
Spanish cruisers of 1492, -to find them, it is likely, appropri-
ately moored under the shadow of the convent walls.
And now a steamboat, crowded to the guards, is being made
fast to the pier ; a throng of visitors rushes down the gang-plank
and you join in the procession that hurries shoreward. Thus far
you have got a very general idea of the Exposition — a notion
merely of some of the greater buildings and their location. The
picture was beautiful, but it was, to a certain extent, misleading.
You have not as yet seen a tithe of the whole show, and what
you have seen has been dwarfed by the distance from which you
viewed it. Once on shore you turn to your left, pass between
the restaurant building, that you saw from the pier, and the con-
vent building, in which are no end of relics of the Spanish dis-
coverer, and mounting a stairway to the elevated railroad and
moving sidewalk, take passage upon the latter for a tour of the
grounds. The moving sidewalk, which at an elevation traverses
the length and breadth of the Jackson Park portion of the Expo-
sition, is an exhibit of the cable-car companies of the city, the
motive power being an endless cable worked by powerful engines.
A moving platform or sidewalk is running at the rate of three
miles an hour, and adjoining this, so that you may without dan-
ger step from the one to the other, is a similar platform furnished
with a succession of benches and making a speed of six miles an
hour. Seated on one of these benches you are now passing
between the Agricultural Annex, with its overflow exhibits of
agricultural machinery, and the Forestry Building, devoted to
83
the purpose which its name
indicates. On your left are
the extensive Hve stock sheds
covering no less than forty
acres, and on your right, as
you circle around the south-
ern end of the grounds prop-
er, running now side by side
with a fast flying train of the
electrical elevated railroad,
is the circular inclosure used
for a cattle exhibit and con-
necting with the colonnade
that joins the Agricultural
Building with Machinery
Hall. Now you skirt the rear
of this latter-named building
with its boiler-houses and
steam -generating plant, dart
in between it and its chief
annex on the west, and are
carried over the sheds into
which run the tracks of the
score or more of railroads
having a terminus at the
grounds.
The view on your right,
with the Administration
Building directly before you,
and the Grand Avenue with
its splendid facades stretch-
ing away on either side of
the grand canal to the lake,
84
is one of the most beautiful prospects afforded by the trip, and
gives you a very much more adequate idea of this the chief
point of the Exposition than was afforded by the view you had of
it in the opposite direction.
Curving to the westward at the southwest corner of the
Mines and Mining Building you pass the southern end of the
richly-colored Transportation Building, decorated in gold, yel-
low, and red, the national colors of Spain, in commemoration of
the fact that it was that country that provided the first means
of transport to the New World. You traverse the western
front of this structure, and then at a little distance pass Hor-
ticultural Hall, with its rose-tinted walls and its dome of glint-
ing glass. The smaller building, which next appears on your
right, looking for all the world like, a Pompeiian palace, its
marble-like sides a warm ivory, deepening into orange, and its
roof a brilliant red, is that devoted to woman's work, while
off to your left, along what is called the Midway Plaisance, you
see the quaint towers, arches, and minarets of a group of struct-
ures distinctively foreign — the bazaars of all nations and a vari-
ous collection of attractions of a semi-private character.
Approaching now the northern end of the Fair grounds you
pass in rapid succession the pavilions of some of the Western
States and Territories, and turning eastward once again find
still more of these architecturally-ornamented State reservations.
For some distance you follow the Lake Shore southward, flit
by one of the annexes of the Art Gallery, getting a glimpse of
the turquoise dome of the Art Palace itself, and alight, finally,
between the Aztec temple, erected by the Republic of Mexico,
and one of the arms of the lagoon system, having traveled about
three miles from your starting point.
In order to get an idea now of the water-ways of the grounds
you descend a broad sweep of stone steps between flower-gar-
nished terraces to a spacious landing stage, where you engage one
«5
of the many rapid-moving electric launches to convey you through
the lagoons and canals to the great basin. Comfortably reclining
on a cushioned seat in the stern, and shielded from the sun's rays
by an ample awning, you float swiftly over the surface of the
clear, sparkling waters, passing dozens of boats like your own,
sombre-looking gondolas propelled by Venetian-like gondoliers,
row-boats, steam launches, and canoes, all filled with jolly, glee-
ful folk like yourself, out for a holiday and apparently enjoying
every moment to the full. The terraced shores, too, are crowded
with sight-seers, and there on the wide plateau to your left are the
encamped soldiers indulging in a grand review by the com-
mander-in-chief of the army, and in the presence of thousands
of spectators. Now you glide between the Government Building
on one hand and the Fisheries Building on the other, and shoot-
ing beneath the wide span of a picturesque bridge find yourself
on the principal lagoon to the east of a beautiful wooded island,
from whose fertile soil rises specimens of a thousand trees in-
digenous to the United States, richly blooming azalias, gorgeous
rhododendrons, and scores of other flowering and decorative
shrubs ; aquatic fowls of every clime are swimming about you,
darting her& and there, or taking wing and flying off to the ver-
dant shores of the leafy isle, and your sportsman's instincts assert
themselves only to be vigorously repressed as a flock of fat wid-
geon get up in front of your boat and circle oft" into one of the
less frequented bays. A little farther on you see a white sea-gull,
and before you have passed half the length of the Liberal Arts
structure, along whose western side you are now skimming, your
watchful gaze has been rewarded with sight of several swans, a
brown pelican, a stork, a couple of scarlet ibes, and a flamingo.
The Main Building is still shutting off your view lakeward even
after you have shot under another bridge and have come in sight
of the Electrical Building on your left, and it continues to do so
until at length you float out into the Grand Canal.
86
Your landing is made in front of the Main Building's southern
facade, and as you join the crowd ascending the broad flight of
snowy steps to the grand avenue you realize for the first time
the grandeur of this mammoth palace. In coloring it has the
tone of old alabaster, the surface of which has begun to disinte-
grate, and so closely does the "staff" or stucco, of which its
panels and columns are composed, resemble this material that
you can scarcely believe it a less substantial imitation. About
the great arched middle entrance you observe a wealth of sculp-
tured adornment, in which female figures symbolical of the vari-
ous arts and sciences play a conspicuous and attractive part ;
while medallions representative of the arms and seals of the sev-
eral States, and of foreign nations as well, find employment in
ornamenting both architrave and spandrel. Once inside the
building you are still further impressed by its vastness, and you
are not surprised to learn that to make a complete circuit of it
means to travel a full mile, and that so high is its great arched
roof that the entire Auditorium Building, of which Chicago is so
justly proud, tower and all, could be wheeled beneath it. You
observe that above a certain point no attempt has been made to
decorate the space overhead, save to paint it a light tone that at
night reflects the electric light ; but the long lines of gallery fronts
have been treated with a good deal of modeled work sufficiently
strong in color to give animation, while broad gold and colored
bands ornament the lower portion of the roof There are three
side-galleries, you discover, inclosing the great central gallery,
while between the enormous girders of the central roof other gal-
leries have been placed twenty-five feet above the ground and
projecting into the hall, from which you get a general view of the
immense array of exhibits and the busy scene on the floor below.
But it is not merely a general view that you desire, and so
descending to the fifty-foot wide avenue, that has been named
"Columbia," and that extends through the entire length of the
87
building, you begin an examination of the million interesting ob-
jects there on exhibition. Passing from the section set apart for
one nation to that of another, and from one group of exhibits to
an entirely different group, you soon find yourself experiencing a
veritable night-mare, in which paints and varnishes, type-writers
and stationery, upholstery goods and wall papers, tiles and pot-
tery, metal work and stained glass, gold and silver ware, watches
and clocks, silks and woolens, furs and laces, rubber goods and
leather goods, cook stoves and refrigerators, iron gates and cut-
lery, are jumbled in inextricable confusion.
Now you dart off into the department set aside for the Lib-
eral Arts, including education, literature,' engineering, music, and
the drama, and find reHef for the time being from the embarras-
sing richness of the manufactures. But the most interesting dis-
play within this mammoth inclosure you have yet to see, and
that is the Ethnological Museum, which is in charge of Pro-
fessor F. W. Putnam, of Harvard College.
The most important part of the collection, you observe, refers
to North and South America. Commencing with the earliest
traces of the existence of man in the Northern Hemisphere, illus-
trations are shown of the geology, the flora, and the fauna of
the period, the latter including actual specimens of the mammoth
and the mastodon. Here, too, you see models of the great
earth-works in Ohio, in which are combined squares, octagons,
circles, and other figures, and, what particularly interests you,
the massive skeleton of a man encased in copper armor, the head
covered by an o\'al-shaped copper cap, and the neck encircled
by a necklace of bears' teeth set with pearls, together with a sim-
ilar female skeleton. These, you learn, were recently discovered
in one of the Ohio mounds fourteen feet below the surface of the
earth, and are generally supposed to be the skeletons of the
King and Queen of the Mound Builders, and to ha\e been
buried fully six hundred years ago.
88
Another class of exhibits in this same collection includes the
ancient cliff houses and ruined pueblos of Colorado, Arizona,
and New Mexico ; models of the existing pueblos, such as those
of Moki and Zuni, which appear to form a direct link with the
past races ; and reproductions of some portion of those great
stone buildings in Central America, Mexico, and Peru of which
there is but little knowledge. Here, too, you see many groups
of natives from different tribes not only of North and South
America, but from Europe, Asia, and Africa as well, including
several pygmies from the land of Tippu-Tib, living in their own
huts and engaged in their own special industries. A number of
these little colonies, however, you find not in the main building
at all, but outside in the open air, some of the principal ones being
a part of the Indian Bureau exhibit, and consequently located
near the Government Building. Here the Navajos are weaving
blankets, the Zunis, dwelling in what they call a "hogan," are
making pottery, while the Piutes are fashioning water-bottles out
of rushes.
On your return journey through this tremendous store-house
of manufactures and liberal art works you discover many things
that you overlooked in your scurry northward, stopping perhaps
to inspect with some degree of care the exhibit of a Kansas tax-
idermist, which includes one hundred and fifty of the largest
animals of the United States — buffalo, elk, moose, antelope, deer,
mountain sheep, goats, wild cats, wolves, and bear — or the
American Sportsman's Exhibit, comprising every weapon and
utensil used in hunting, fishing, and trapping from the time the
country was discovered to the present day.
Then, coming out at the southeastern corner beneath another
of the buildings' elaborately ornamented archways, you pass
along the colonnade that bridges the great basin, and approach
the Agricultural Building, getting as you go an excellent view of
this single-story structvu-e, with its imposing main entrance be-
tween colossal Ionic columns, its statuary-ornamented roof, its
mammoth glass dome in the centre, and its lesser domes at the
corners, each surmounted by three female figures of herculean pro-
portions supporting an enormous globe. The tremendous struct-
ure you have just left covers thirty and a half acres, and the one
you are now about to enter seems small in comparison with its
nine acres only of floor space. Passing in at the main portal,
which is designed as a temple to Ceres, with a statue of the god-
dess in the centre, rising from a mosaic floor of black and white
to indicate the Ionic character of the building, and surrounded by
a lofty colonnade and domed roof all richly expressed in gold and
color, you find yourself in one of a large number of small galler-
ies that surround the central rotunda, which is one hundred feet
in diameter and one hundred and thirty feet high.
Every inch of ground space, outside the wide avenues and the
arcade which runs all the way around the building, is devoted to
exhibits of a somewhat prosaic character. Here, for example,
you travel in and out among great piles of biscuits, cakes, and
crackers, and a little farther on come upon pyramids of cans of
preserved fruits and meats, while a large portion of the building,
you soon discover, is taken up with farming tools, implements,
and machinery. These have, it is true, been grouped and ar-
ranged with an eye for picturesque effect, but unless you are
especially interested in the subject you are willing to make your
stay in the agricultural palace a brief one. As a consequence,
you grasp as well as you can its chief architectiu-al features, and
then make your escape by way of the colonnade which connects
its southwestern extremity with Machinery Hall, stopping en
route to visit the live stock Assembly Hall, which is just south
of the colonnade. Here on the first floor is the Bureau of Infor-
mation and the offices of scores of cattle and horse associations,
dog and pet stock associations, and other live stock organiza-
tions ; while on the floor above is an assembly hall in which you
go
find a body of grangers listening to an address on some topic
connected with their field of work.
If you are particularly interested in agriculture you will be
interested in forestry and dairy products as well, and will turn
eastward instead of westward, and visit the buildings de\'Oted to
these purposes, which lie between the Agricultural Annex and
the lake ; and you will stop for an hour or two, perhaps, also to
look at the live stock display — the horses, the cattle, the swine,
and the sheep that will be found beneath the sheds to the south
of the other structures.
Whether you care for these things or not, however, you will
surely drop in at this quaintly picturesque Spanish house that
overlooks the lake, and that you now recognize as the copy of
the Convent of La Rabida that you saw first from the pier, and
afterwards as you passed up to the elevated moving sidewalk.
Inside you find a store-house of relics. Beginning with maps,
models, and facsimiles illustrating the condition of navigation
and the knowledge of geography before and during the time of
Columbus, there is likewise exhibited a statue of Leif Erikson,
together with maps and charts of his alleged voyages, and the
settlement that it is claimed he made in Greenland years be-
fore Columbus sighted the West Indies. The Norse ships of this
period are also shown by means of models, as well as a fine
collection of old navigating and other nautical instruments.
In another room you discover the life history of Columbus,
illustrated by views of the various cities that claim him as
their son, models of the houses in which he was supposed to
have been born ; photographs of the University of Pavia, where
he was educated, &c. , &c. In still another room you come
across an extensive picture gallery, including all the paintings,
either originals or copies, in which Columbus figures, while in
yet another apartment are the portraits, busts, and statues of
Columbus.
91
Machinery Hall, which you next visit, presents but a poor
prospect from the south, and so you approach it by way of the
Grand Avenue, crossing the bridge between it and Machinery
Hall, and getting an excellent prospective from its northeast cor-
ner. Though lacking the boldness that makes of the Adminis-
tration Building the architectural chef-d'ceuvre of the Exposition,
this edifice impresses you as more artistically pleasing than
either its gigantic neighbor devoted to manufactures and the lib-
eral arts, or its equal-sized sister across the lagoon devoted to
agriculture. In its details it suggests sunny Seville, though the
general character of the architecture, like that of the other build-
ings fronting on the Grand Avenue, is thoroughly classic. Com-
posed of three long arch-roofed compartments, similar to train-
sheds — the idea being to dispose of them at the close of the
Exposition for that purpose — the ornamentation is devoted en-
tirely to the exterior, which is rich with columns and arches open-
ing to an inner arcade, domed and turreted corner pavilions and
statue-adorned towers rising from either side of the imposing
porticos that form the main entrances.
Here you see machinery of all kinds in motion. There are
motors for the generation and apparatus for the transmission of
power ; hydraulic and pneumatic devices ; fire-engines and fire-
ladders ; machines for working metals and machines for working-
stone ; machines for twisting silk and machines for ^^•eaving fab-
rics ; type-setting machines and printing presses ; paper-making
machinery ; wood-working machinery ; glass-cutting machinery ;
pumps, elevators, and a thousand and one odd patented arrange-
ments that you have never so much as dreamed of
And then, back of all this, in another building — the Machinery
Annex — off to the west, covering between four and five acres, is
almost as much again of the same sort ; while to the south, con-
nected with the main structure, is what is known as the boiler
plant, which supplies steam to the great power station wb.ich
92
occupies a space along the entire south side of this great store-
house of mechanism. Here you find engine after engine of all
makes and all sizes, from the comparatively small affair of
one hundred and fifty horse-power to the enormous machine of
one thousand horse-power, aggregating fully twenty-five thou-
sand horse-power in all. From this source, you learn, power is
furnished not alone to Machinery Hall, but throughout the
grounds to the various other buildings, supplying them with
light and heat, as well as affording energy for other purposes.
It is not steam, though, that is sent through the tunnels, but
compressed air, which is used to operate all the machinery in
motion.
The Administration Building, which next claims your attention,
is well worth a careful study from without as well as from within.
Viewed from the elevation of your moving sidewalk ride about
the grounds, the great ovoid dome, two hundred and twenty feet
in height, has appeared to you somewhat out of proportion to
the underlying foundation, but now as you stand on the pavement
of the Grand Avenue and gaze up at it, you realize that a dome
of less girth and amplitude would have looked meagre and inef-
fectual. The general design of the building, which is two hun-
dred and fifty feet square, is, you observe, in the style of the
French renaissance. The first great story, of the Doric order, is
of heroic proportions, surrounded by a lofty balustrade and having
the great tiers of the angle of each of the four pavilions which
form its corners crowned with sculpture. The second story, with
its lofty and spacious colonnade, is of the Ionic order. The de-
sign, you notice, has been divided in its height into three princi-
pal stages. The first, consisting of the four pavilions, correspond-
ing in height with the various buildings grouped about it, which
are about sixty-five feet high ; the second stage of the same height,
a continuation of the central rotunda ; and the third stage, the
base of the great dome, thirty feet in height and octagonal in
93
form, and the great dome itself, which is over one-third the
height of the entire structure.
On the panels of the first story are inscriptions detailing facts
in the life of Columbus, and the names of discoverers of conti-
nents or portions of continents, and when you have entered by
one of the fifty-feet wide, deeply recessed, and semi-circular
arched portals, you find upon the interior still more inscriptions
recording important discoveries in science and the names of the
discoverers.
The interior features of the building approach, if they do not
exceed, in beauty and splendor those of the exterior. Between
every two of the grand entrances and connecting the intervening
pavilion with the great rotunda you find a hall or loggia thirty
feet square giving access to the offices, and provided with broad
circular stairways and swift-running elevators. In one pavilion
are located the Fire and Police Departments, with cells for the de-
tention of prisoners ; in another, the offices of the Ambulance
Service, the physicians and pharmacy, the Foreign Department,
and the Information Bureau ; in the third, the post-office and a
bank, and in the fourth the offices of Public Comfort and a res-
taurant. On the upper floors of the pavilions are the board-
rooms, the committee-rooms, the rooms of the Director-General,
the Department of Publicity and Promotion, and of the United
States Columbian Commission.
Inquiry here gives you a fund of information concerning the
Exposition that you have hitherto failed to acquire, and which is,
now that you are on the grounds, of more than passing interest.
Briefly stated, you learn, for example, that the total cost of the
Exposition is something like $17,500,000. Of this amount Chi-
cago citizens subscribed $6,000,000 ; the Illinois Legislature
authorized the city to issue bonds for $5,000,000 more ; and the
United States Government contributed $1,500,000 and loaned
$5,000,000. In addition to this, of course, each State, the same
94
as each foreign country, appropriated a certain sum to provide for
its own particular exhibit.
Here, too, you get information as to the dimensions and cost
of the various buildings, in all probability in tabulated form
something like this : —
Buildings. Feet. Acres. Cost.
Manufactures 787 by 1687 30.5 |i, 000,000
Agriculture 500 800 9.2 \ r.Q 000
Annex ....... 32S 500 3.8 i
Machinery 500 800 9.8^
Power-house 80 600 ^-^ f 1,200,000
Annexes 490 551 6. 2 J
Assembly Hall 450 500 5.2 200,000
Mines and Mining 350 700 5.6 250,000
Electricity 345 700 5.5 365,000
Administration 260 260 1.6 450,000
Transportation 250 960 5.5 280,000
Horticulture 250 1000 5.8 300,000
Women's .... 200 400 1.8 120,000
United States Guveninient 350 420 3.4 400,000
Navy Battle-sliip 248 69 2.0 100,000
Fisheries 163 36s i.ol
. f r. r 200,000
Anne.xes . 135 diameter. 0.8 i
Fine Arts 320 by 500 3-71
Annexes 123 200 i.i J
Forestry 200 500 2.3 100,000
Saw-mill 125 300 0.9 35, 000
Dairy 95 200 0.5 30,000
Livestock 5^ t,xo i.^l
, • r. , ^., , 00 00 J ^ 150,000
Live Stock Sheds 40.0 J
Music Hall 140 200 0.7 100,000
Restaurant 140 200 0.7 100,000
16,430,000
Armed with this array of tigures you stop for an inspection of
the under side of the dome, which you discover is enriched with
deep panelings filled in with sculpture in low relief and enormous
95
paintings, representing the arts and sciences, and then you de-
scend to teri^a firma once more, and passing out by the northern
archway, find yourself between the Mines and Mining and the
Electrical Buildings. You choose the latter for your next visit,
and, as is your habit, halt a moment
before entering to take in at a glance
some of its chief architectural features.
What impresses you most for-
cibly is the portico and colon-
ROUNDING A MOUNTAIN ON THE PENNSYLVANIA RAlLRoAb.
nade that extend the whole width of the building on each side
of the monumental main entrance, o\er which latter are in-
scribed a series of names famous in the annals of electrical
science, and in the centre of which, upon a lofty pedestal, is
96
a colossal statue of Benjamin F"ranklin, whose illustrious name
connects the early history of the Republic with one of the most
important discoveries in the phenomena of electricity. The main
tower here, two hundred feet in height, also commands your
gaze, as do the shorter and more slender ones on either side.
While the walls have the same eburnean appearance as those
of the other buildings on the Grand Avenue, you note an extrava-
gance of decoration about the entrance that has not been observ-
able elsewhere. The columns here, for instance, are of porphyry,
and everywhere are great masses of gilt modeled work in relief,
the object being, you learn, to afford as brilliant an effect as pos-
sible by night, when the whole structure is fairly ablaze with
electric light.
The interior, which, after dark, must be dazzling in its brill-
iancy, contains nevertheless by daylight many exhibits of rare
interest, and you spend hours here among the wonders which
every step unfolds. The space set apart for and occupied by
the inventions of the Wizard Edison is especially rich in mar-,
vels ; and you can readily belie\'e that the inventor has made
this display the greatest achievement of his life. What you see
is not only practical, but the effects are spectacular and novel
as well.
In the decorations of the chief entrance to the Mines and
Mining Building, gold, silver, and black are freely used as emble-
matical of mineral products. Sculptures symbolical of the char-
acter of the exhibits within are also prominent, and you observe
that the general style of the building's architecture suggests the
early Italian renai.s.sance, somewhat freely treated. Here, too,
are the inevitable corner pavilions with their low domes and their
waving banners ; and here, too, you find the usual arcade open-
ing upon a loggia on the ground floor and wide gallery above.
You are impressed somewhat by the marble facings of the loggia,
of various kinds and hues, and then }'ou realize that these are
97
exhibits, and will probably have a good market value after the
close of the Exposition.
So rich is the United States in natural mineral resources of
almost every kind, and so large and varied are its requirements,
that you are not surprised to find on the floor of this structure,
and in the United States section, an exceedingly extensive display
of all varieties of raw mineral products ; of metals obtained from
the ores, manufactured metals, mining and metallurgical machin-
ery, and, indeed, everything that serves to illustrate the vast
industries of mining and of metallurgy.
You discover that the subject of coal has been treated in very
broad lines, the exhibit in this respect being qualitative rather
than quantitative. Here are the different varieties, produced at
different localities, together with the chemical analysis of each,
and the results of tests determining their economic value and
adaptability to various purposes. The iron exhibit, too, is
arranged with full appreciation of the magnitude and impor-
tance of the iron industry ; and the process of extracting the
precious metals is demonstrated in the most thorough manner.
One of the most interesting displays is a collection of the im-
plements used by the pioneers who went to California in 1849,
at the outbreak of the gold fever there, including an old "pla-
cer ' ' plant in complete operation. Nor is this all. A little far-
ther on you come upon the shafts of a coal mine, and are told
that here is a full-sized model showing how coal is mined in
Pennsylvania ; while not far away is a similar model of an iron
mine, with all the mining paraphernalia in full view.
The view from the northern end of the Mines and Mining
Building, looking across the archipelago of small islands to the
larger wooded island beyond, is in striking contrast with the
scene you have just left, and you stand for some minutes enjoy-
ing the sylvan prospect before turning to your left and entering
the golden portal of the Transportation Building, which here
98
stretches its length of nine hundred and sixty feet along the
western edge of the Jackson Park site. Romanesque in gen-
eral style, it, nevertheless, in some particulars — the manner in
which it is designed on axial lines, the solicitude shown for fine
proportions, and the subtle relation of parts to each other —
suggests the methods of composition followed at the Ecole des
Beaux Arts. The golden door, through an immense single arch,
enriched to an extraordinary degree with carvings, has reliefs,
and several paintings, chief among which is a modeled represen-
tation of the passenger train par excellence of the world — the
Pennsylvania Limited — which has a place directly over the en-
trance, is the keynote of the eastern front, and the remainder
of the architectural composition falls into a just relation of con-
trast with it, consisting of a continuous arcade, with subordi-
nated colonnade and entablature. There are, too, you see,
numerous minor entrances, grouped about which are terraces
sloping to the water's edge, picturesque seats, convenient drink-
ing fountains, and beautiful statuary, all of which, taken with
the red and yellow and gold of the exterior decorations, the
blue-green of the lagoon, and the rich foliage and flowers of the
island opposite, compose a picture more rich in color than is to
be found anywhere else on the grounds.
The interior of the building reveals a treatment similar to that
of a Roman basilica, with broad nave and aisles. The roof is in
three divisions, the middle one rising much higher than the
others, and with its walls pierced to form a beautiful arcade
clere-story. To the cupola, which is in the exact centre of the
building, you may ascend by any one of eight elevators, them-
selves exhibits, and from the height of one hundred and sixty-
five feet get a view of the park and its ornaments entirely differ-
ent from any you have yet had.
In the way of exhibits, you find about every object that will
illustrate the work of transportation, whether by land, water, or
99
air ; and observe that the collection has been given a historic
as well as practical interest by the introduction of examples of
the earliest and crudest forms of transportation appliances from
all parts of the world. Off from the northwest corner of the
Transportation Building proper you stray into what is called the
Service Building, an annex covering nine acres, wherein you dis-
cover a stupendous array of railway trains, including engines
and cars. At least a hundred locomotives are facing the central
avenue, and the perspective is fine beyond description.
The rose-tinted Horticultural Building, with its crystal domes
and roofs, and its many windows of flashing glass, reflecting its
own showy banners and the trees and flowers of its neighboring
island, lies directly to the north of you — a great conservatory
a thousand feet in length and with a maximum width of two
hundred and eighty-seven feet, surrounded by grounds laid out
in the most elaborate manner known to the art of the landscape
gardener. Grounds garnished with fountains and statuary, huge
vases containing flowers in bloom, tanks in which grow the
Egyptian lotus and other specimens of nympheas, all sloping
to a low parapet that rises above a spacious landing stage on
the shore of the lagoon.
Once inside the building you traverse a long court, beauti-
fully decorated in color and planted with ornamental shrubs
and flowers ; stand spell-bound beneath the central dome, into
which mount enormously tall palms, bamboos, tree ferns, cacti,
and eucalyptus, or climb to the galleries, and in one of the cafes
there situated partake of a luncheon to the music of splashing
fountains and surrounded by the sweet odors of many flowers.
The courts facing the wooded island, you note, are devoted
especially to tender plants, while in the rear courts are the
fruit-growing exhibits that require a cooler temperature. Here
you find a large section given over exclusively to the exhibi-
tion of orange culture in California and Florida, while a most
lOO
interesting exhibit, not far away, consists of the dwarf fruit and
other trees of Japan, over a century old and not more than
two feet high.
A few steps north of the Horticultural Building you come
upon the red-roofed structure devoted to woman's work — de-
signed by a woman and crowded with the results of woman's
handicraft. Its style is the Italian renaissance, and it covers a
space of two hundred by four hundred feet. It is encompassed
by luxuriant shrubs and beds of fragrant flowers, and stands
like a white silhouette against a background of verdant leaf-
age. In front of it the lagoon takes the form of a bay about
four hundred feet in width. From the middle of this bay a
grand landing and stair-case leads to a terrace six feet above
the water. Crossing this terrace, other stair-ways give access
to the ground, four feet above, on which, at about one hun-
dred feet back, the building is situated.
You enter a lobby, forty feet wide, which leads into a rotunda
open to the roof, protected by a richly-ornamented skylight, and
surrounded by a two-story open arcade, the effect being that of
an Italian court-yard, of delicate and chaste design. On the left
of the main entrance is a thoroughly equipped hospital, with
women physicians and trained nurses, prepared to handle the
gravest cases of accident or illness, and, adjoining this, a room
filled with couches and hospital beds— a branch of the Depart-
ment of Public Comfort — for such cases of indisposition as do
not require serious or regular medical attention. Oji your right,
as you enter the building, is a model kindergarten, with all the
latest improvements for the education of the infant mind. In the
south pavilion you find what is described as the ' ' Retrospective
Exhibit," and in the north pavilion everything that relates to re-
form work and charity organization.
Upstairs, in the second story, are the ladies' parlors, commit-
tee-rooms, and dressing-rooms, all leading to the open balcony
in front. Adjoining these on one side is a great assembly room,
while on the other are located a model kitchen and refreshment
rooms. Above this floor, open to the air and surrounded by a
supplementary colonnade, are the hanging gardens, which give
to the building, from the outside, somewhat the appearance of a
Pompeiian villa.
Having given yourself a thorough idea of the work of which
woman is capable, you proceed to an inspection of the largest of
the individual State buildings on the grounds, that of Illinois,
which lies a little to the north on a piece of land surrounded on
three sides by the waters of the system of lagoons. In size it is
four hundred by one hundred and sixty feet, and in style severely
classic, with a dome in the centre and a great porch facing south-
ward. The interior, save for a space at one end reserved for a
model school-house, is an unbroken rectangular hall, crowded
with exhibits of the States' products and specialties. Now, for a
time, you stroll about among the pavilions of the various States
and Territories which are grouped in this part of the grounds,
and which in their varied architectural features present a strong
contrast to the larger structures at the southern end of the park,
which, as you have observed, all bear a family resemblance.
Wisconsin's building, for example, which you pass soon after
leaving the Illinois building, is merely a Queen Anne cottage,
three stories in height ; while on the space allotted to Florida,
near the northern extremity of the grounds, is a full-sized re-
production of old Fort Marion, which was built at St. Augus-
tine in 1620, and which is believed to be the oldest building in
the United States. This structure, you conclude, is well worth
inspection. It is, you learn, made of frame, but being covered
with the phosphate rock of Florida it has the appearance of
stone. Surrounding the fort is a moat, part of which is ar-
ranged as a sunken garden, in which you see growing the tropical
plants of the State — the pine-apple, banana, rice, sugar cane,
oranges, &c. , while in another portion, filled with water, you get
a glimpse of several alligators and crocodiles. The buildings of
New York and Pennsylvania are, as a matter of course, some-
what pretentious, but a number of the smaller States, you note,
have contented themselves with French chateaus, Swiss chalets,
and a dozen and one other all too common forms of construction.
Now the pure Grecian Ionic architecture of the Fine Arts
Building comes before you as a relief from the conglomerate col-
lection of styles through which you have just passed. Its cool,
light-gray walls and its brilliant blue dome, standing out from
among groups of statues — replica ornaments of classic art — which
adorn the grounds, are enhanced in beauty by the contrast, and
you approach the structure with all the devotion and reverence
that Art should command. Climbing one of the four broad
flights of steps that lead to the sculptured portals, you enter a
vestibule, the walls of which are adorned with paintings illus-
trating the history and progress of the arts. These you find
extend also through the nave which runs the length of the build-
ing, and through the transept which divides the rectangle into
four large galleries. In these passage-ways, too, are the exhibits
of statuary and other sculpture. The four large galleries, and
several smaller courts off from these, are devoted entirely to
paintings — one of the larger courts being filled with the United
States' art exhibit ; another with the pictures of English artists ;
the third with German art works ; and the fourth with the magnif-
icent display made by the Republic of France. When you have
exhausted the pictures in which this building abounds you visit
the annexes that are located to the east and the west, where you
find an additional display of canvasses, water-colors, etchings,
engravings, and architectural drawings gathered from the four
corners of the globe.
Between these art palaces, which, in view of their valuable
contents, are the most substantially built of all the Exposition
I03
edifices, and the Fisheries
Building, located about a
thousand feet in a straight
line to the south, are to be
seen some of the principal
foreign buildings, including
those of Great Britain, Ger-
many, France, Italy, Russia,
Spain, Mexico, and some of
the South American Repub-
lics. Here you find the fine
old-looking English manor
house — is it Hatfield or Sand-
ringham ? — with its spacious
armor-hung hall and its mod-
el garden. Here also are an
ancient - appearing German
castle ; an A^tec temple, such
as one sees in various parts
of Mexico ; and, on the plot
assigned to Ecuador, a repro-
duction of the Incas' " Tem-
ple of the Sun," that you re-
member to have seen at the
Paris Exposition of 1889.
The Fisheries Building,
which you now visit, is a
somewhat ornate affair in the
Spanish-Romanesque style,
colored in imitation of the
Cordova Cathedral, the ar-
chivalts being picked out in
red blocks on a dull buff"
I04
ground, and the roofs appropriately painted a marine blue. In
the centre of the main building is located a large basin or pool,
from which rises a towering mass of rocks, covered with moss
and lichens, and from the crevices of which gush crystal streams
of water which drop to the reeds, rushes, and ornamental semi-
aquatic plants in the basin below. Here gorgeous golden ides,
golden trench, and other golden fishes disport themselves. From
this point, too, you get a view of one side of the larger series
of aquaria, ten in number, and having a capacity of from seven
thousand to twenty-seven thousand gallons of water each. Here,
also, are numerous cases containing models of fish of all kinds
and from every clime. Passing out of the rotunda you reach a
great corridor or arcade, where on one hand you view the oppo-
site side of the series of great tanks, and on the other a line of
tanks somewhat smaller, ranging in capacity from seven hundred
and fifty to fifteen hundred gallons, making together a panorama
that rivals that to be seen in any great permanent aquarium of
the world. Part of these large tanks you notice are under
ground, and as you stand watching you see rise up from the
bottom an enormous shark, sword-fish, or some other mighty
denizen of the deep. In the annex on the other side of the ro-
tunda you find an angling exhibit, including all sorts of fishing
paraphernalia, comprising rods, reels, nets, boats, &c. In this
structure, too, are shown the methods of fish hatching and fish
cultivation.
Crossing the bay which skirts the Fisheries Building on the
south the United States Government Building and grounds lie
directly before you. The structure, you observe, is large and
imposing, but by no means overburdened with ornaments. Rect-
angular in plan, its centre is surmounted by an eight-sided dome,
from which flies the Stars and Stripes of the Union, and its main
entrance is beneath an heroic, sculpture-crowned arch of the tri-
umphal order. Entering here you find yourself in the midst of
I05
a most interesting display. In the northern half are the exhibits
of the Fisheries Commission, the Smithsonian Institute, and the
Interior Department, while in the southern half you discover the
exhibits of the Post-Office Department, Treasury Department,
War Department, and Department of Agriculture. The United
States Mint authorities show not only a complete collection of
the coins of the United States, but a very excellent collection
of the coins of foreign countries as well ; the Supervising Arch-
itect of the Treasury shows a number of photographs of the
public buildings and parks at Washington, the Bureau of En-
graving and Printing displays a complete collection of the paper
money of the United States, and the Quartermaster's Depart-
ment exhibits lay-figure officers and men of all grades in the
army, mounted and on foot, and fully equipped in the uniforms
of their rank and service. In this same section you see nineteen
figures showing the uniforms worn during the Revolutionary War
and the War of 1812, and thirty-one figures showing the uni-
forms worn in the Mexican War. Here, also, is an exhibition of
how the telephone is used on the battle-field, together with a
showing of all the means of army telegraphing and signaling.
In the Patent Office exhibit you come across a comprehensive
array of models illustrating the wonderful progress of mechanical
civilization, one group showing the development of the printers'
art, from Guttenberg's crude invention to the latest rotary per-
fecting and folding printing press, and others demonstrating in
similar manner the evolution of the steam engine, sewing ma-
chine, &c.
On the grounds of the Government Building, which are quite
extensive, you find, aside from the army encampment and the
exhibit of the Ordnance Department — consisting of huge guns
and explosives — a life-saving station, built and equipped with
every appliance, and manned by a crew giving practical exhi-
bitions of the work done by this heroic branch of the service.
io6
But what interests you, probably, most of all is the exhibit here
under cover, made by the Coast Survey, of a huge model of the
United States, fully four hundred feet square, on a scale showing
the exact height of the mountains, the length and depth of the
rivers, and the curvature of the earth. This you view from gal-
leries built around it, and from elevated pathways over which you
travel the length and breadth of the country.
The Naval exhibit, on board the full-sized model of a coast-
line battle-ship, is the next object that claims your attention, and
you walk past the snowy tents of the soldiers, the neatly-kept
quarters of the life-saving guard, and the frowning guns of the
Ordnance Department to the white promenade that borders the
lake, where you stop to view at this distance the long white hull
with its many port-holes and its belligerent-looking armament,
from the midst of which rises its single mast, circled by two tops
or balconies, over whose guards are pointing small rapid-firing
guns. On the starboard side you see the rigging of the torpedo
protection net, stretching the entire length of the vessel, while
steam launches and cutters riding at the booms give to the
whole all the outward appearance of a real ship of war. That it
is not a real ship, but only a model built of brick and concrete on
a submerged platform in the lake, is due, you learn, to an old
treaty between the United States and Great Britain forbidding
either power to have more than one war-ship on the lakes ; and
this one, of course, has so much to do that it would be out of all
reason to expect it to anchor here for exhibition purposes.
Aboard the model, which has been named the Illinois, you
find that it is not only a war-ship in outward appearance, but in
interior fitting as well. A detail of officers, seamen, mechanics,
and marines man the vessel, and as you go on board you discover
that a torpedo drill is in progress. An inspection of the battery
shows you that it comprises four 13-inch breech-loading rifle can-
non, eight 8-inch breech-loading rifle cannon, four 6-inch breech-
I07
loading rifle cannon, twenty 6-pounder rapid-firing guns, six
I -pounder rapid-firing guns, two Gatling guns, and six torpedo
tubes or torpedo guns. Below are the cabins, state-rooms, lava-
tories, latrines, mess-rooms, galleys, lockers, and berthings, giv-
ing an admirable idea how the men live on board a man-of-war ;
while firom the conning tower above you get a very fair notion of
how the commander of such a ship views an engagement in which
he has entered and communicates his orders to the different parts
of the vessel. As for the traditional naval uniforms from 1775
to 1848, you see them upon living models.
Hailing a small boat from the top of one of the ladders that
descend from the deck to the water's edge, you employ the boat-
man to convey you, by way of the bays and canals, across the
Fair grounds to the Woman's Building again, whence you pro-
ceed on foot through the beautiful gardens surrounding this
structure to the beginning of that strip of land, six hundred feet
in width and a mile long, called the Midway Plaisance, which
you find crowded with a congregation of bazaars of all nations.
If you were at Paris in 1889 it is sure to remind you of the
Rue de Caire, though, as is everything here, it is on a very
much larger scale. In order to get a general view of this cos-
mopolitan avenue, you decide to begin by riding from one end
of it to the other, and accordingly board one of the trains of the
sliding water railway that attracted so much attention at the Paris
Exposition, and that are said to be capable of making a speed of
something like two hundred miles an hour. No such momentum
as this, however, is here attempted, but you are carried swiftly
and smoothly over the polished rails, and arrive at the other
end of the avenue with a confused impression of gorgeous
marquees, picturesque kivaks, stately castles, ruined temples,
hospitable posadas, gaily-colored theatres, long, cool-looking
bungalows, and a host of other structures. Now as you start
to walk back you are jostled by types of people from all the
io8
countries of the earth — the stahvart red Indian, wrapped in his
blanket, emotionless as a stone, and concealing his wonder be-
neath a stolidity that you admire but cannot equal ; the small,
but alert, Japanese, with his loose dress caught up as if it were an
obstacle that he would fain dispense with ; the almond-eyed
Chinaman, with his braided queue ; the turbaned Turk ; the
Egyptian, with his inevitable red fez ; the brilliantly-uniformed
attaches of the European commissions ; the cool, white-clothed,
and Panama-hatted hidalgo from Mexico or one of the Spanish -
peopled countries of South America, and ordinary-looking folk
like yourself from here, there, and everywhere.
Among the more interesting features of this part of the Ex-
position, where an extra price of admission is charged, and
where, for the first time in your tour of the grounds, you find
exhibits for sale as well as for show, you 'note a reproduction on
a grand scale of the Tower of London, with its many historic
associations, and through which you are shown by a robust
Englishman in the costume of a Beef-eater. A little farther on
you come across the Guatemala exhibit of one of the palaces of
the ruined city of Antigua ; and not far away is the Capitol
Building of the United States of Columbia, in miniature. A col-
ony of the lace-makers and the gold and silver workers of Para-
guay claims your attention for a moment, and then you pass on
to where the celebrated Pandure family, from the State of Guad-
alajara in Mexico, living in a thorougly Mexican dwelling, are
working in clay and modeling figures that would do credit to a
master sculptor.
An East Indian and a Turkish street are here, showing not
only the wares peculiar to the country, but the mechanics, arti-
sans, and professional entertainers. Here Egypt has reproduced
one of Cairo's chief avenues, four hundred feet in length, lined
with shops, cafes, dwellings, and amusement halls, and peo-
pled with donkey-drivers, Egyptian serving-maids, dancing girls,
I09
jugglers, merchants, women, and children. Japan, also, has a vil-
lage picturing her architecture and scenes from her home-life.
China, exhibiting for the first time with the sanction of her govern-
ment, presents to your gaze wonders hitherto never seen outside of
the Flowery Kingdom, and Persia shows you a street that recalls
memories of tales from the Arabian Nights. Beside all this you
are confronted on every side by panoramas, captive balloons,
fountains of native wines, coal palaces and corn palaces, and,
what is by no means the least interesting part of this wonderful
section of the Exposition, a portion of a gigantic red-wood tree
from California that stood three hundred and ninety feet high,
and was twenty-six feet in diameter, now leveled and divided, its
trunk hollowed out, and the interior fashioned into full-sized rail-
way cars, fitted in the style of Pullman coaches of the latest and
most approved design. In one forty-five-foot length you find a
sleeping car, with berths closed and berths made-up ; and in an-
other a dining car similar to those used on the Pennsyh-ania
Railroad, with a kitchen and all its appurtenances.
Now the day is nearly done, and the tops of the buildings are
crimsoned by the setting sun. Far away, down the grounds, the
dome of the Administration Palace is a great molten ball of flame,
and the glass domes of some of the other structures are dazzling
as mammoth gems, glittering with all the prismatic colors. Ten
minutes more and the light has paled ; night's black robe is fall-
ing, and threatens to envelop everything in its dusky folds, when
suddenly, on all sides, from one extreme boundary of the park to
the other, a million lights flash into brilliant being, and once more,
though the skies be dark above, the avenues and water-ways of the
vast inclosure are as luminous as at noonday. Ha^•ing seen the
Exposition by daylight, you linger now to see it again in all
the spectacular glory of its electrical illumination. You climb,
perhaps, to the hanging gardens of the Woman's Pavilion,
and from there let your gaze sweep southward over the great
artificially-lighted area, thus getting a bird's-eye view that is well
worth your while ; or it is possible that you engage one of those
funereal-looking gondolas and drift lazily through the lagoons,
whose depths are lighted with electric lamps arranged beneath the
waters. A cool breeze from the lake fans your cheeks ; to your
ears comes the music of the great orchestra playing some dreamy
waltz, and as you loll back on your cushions you see darting here
and there through the transparent depths below you curiously -
shaped and colored artificial fishes and marine monsters, lighted
and propelled by the electric currents.
You remember that at Paris but three of the buildings were
open in the evening. Here every one of the great halls is open
and aglow with light. In all but the Fine Arts, the Administra-
tion, and the Woman's Building arc lights are employed. In
Machinery Hall there are six hundred ; in Agricultural Hall, six
hundred ; in the Electric Building, four hundred ; in the Mines
and Mining Building, four hundred ; in the Transportation Build-
ing, four hundred and fifty ; in Horticultural Hall, four hundred ;
in the Forestry Building, one hundred and fifty ; and in the Great
Palace of the Liberal Arts, two thousand. Twelve thousand in-
candescent lamps light the Fine Arts Building ; ten thousand
more are ablaze in the Administration Building ; and in the
Woman's Building there are one hundred and eighty arc lights
and twenty-seven hundred incandescent lamps.
When at length you approach the Grand Avenue the scene
becomes more and more beautiful. Every window and archway
of the great edifices here are sending out broad columns of light,
illuminated fountains are throwing aloft their brilliant-hued waters,
groups of white statuary stand out in bold and striking outline
against the black shadows, and the golden ornaments of the
entrances to the several mammoth piles facing the Grand Canal
llash and glitter in the flood of dazzling effulgence.
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