St. Paul, the capital of Minnesota, is a very flourishing and beautiful city built on a series of terraces on the left or eastern bank of the great "Father of Waters," over which it commands magnificent views. The streets are paved with pine-logs, over which one travels in comfort that contrasts most favourably with the rough and clumsy paving-stones of New York. Minneapolis is situated ten miles further west, on the right bank of the Mississippi. In 1860 the combined population of the two cities was 16,000—to-day it exceeds 250,000. They are rapidly approaching each other, and the time is looked forward to when they will form one great metropolitan city. Within the last three years they have doubled their population. They are now called "The Twin Cities," though their commercial interests are not identical, and there is considerable rivalry between the two cities.
ST. PAUL.
We were driven out by a friend of M.'s, whom we met at the hotel, to a place called Midway Park, where Commodore Kitson keeps his celebrated trotters. Here we were shown the fastest trotters and pacers in the world. "Johnston," the "King of the Turf," was trotted out for our inspection. I am no judge of horseflesh, though I tried to look as knowing as I possibly could. We were told that in pacing—which I think means trotting by advancing the two right legs together and then the two left legs, like the celebrated animal in Miss Thompson's "Roll Call"—he is the fastest horse in the world; to me, who am uninitiated, his trot looked like an awkward shamble; but he paces a mile in 2 min. 6¼ sec. Our attention was drawn to the large bumps on his forehead—a proof, his trainer said, of very unusual intellect. We were also shown "Little Brown Jug," "Fanny Witherspoon," and "Minnie R.," all well-known names in the sporting world. "Minnie R." it appears paced a mile in 2 min. 3½ sec. with "Firebrand" trotting alongside; this I presume is a great help.
These stables are admirably arranged. Each animal lives in a sort of little drawing-room, decorated with flags, pictures, and records of deeds accomplished. I much regretted my extreme ignorance with respect to these worldwide wonders, but I was careful not to betray it. There were many other horses pointed out to us, but I forget their names. I was told they were not to be matched in the wide world, and not one of them was worth less than 20,000 dollars—probably there was a little vain boasting in this. The same day I cut the following from a St. Paul paper:—
"The death of George Wilkes, the editor (of 'The Spirit of the Times'), and 'Goldsmith Maid,' the trotter, on the same day, may not be a very singular thing, after all, but a St. Paul horseman remarked yesterday that it was 'a queer coincidence that two such old and well-known sports should fly the track on the home stretch together.'"
I rather think the "Goldsmith Maid" had been a thorn in the side of the sanguine head-boss of the Kitson stables. I knew poor Wilkes well many years ago, not however in his capacity as sportsman, but as author of a work on Shakespeare, the main object of which, if my memory serves me, was to prove that the Swan of Avon was a "bloated aristocrat!"
We had not time to stay at Minneapolis, and could only catch a slight glimpse of its magnificent bridges and corn elevators as our train swept by.
Here, somewhere in the immediate neighbourhood of Minneapolis, are the celebrated Falls of St. Anthony, and also those of Minnehaha, which we would gladly have gone to see had time permitted. We were told, however, that their charms are not less practical than poetic.
The practical charms of Minneapolis, St. Anthony's Falls, and the surrounding country, are demonstrated in the following cutting from "Forest and Stream":—