Chicago by day and night

by Harold R. Vynne

The ground floor of Engel’s is exclusively devoted to the sterner sex. No ladies are allowed on that floor; up above, however, a roomy balcony runs around the hall and lady patrons of all ages and grades of attractiveness sit at the tables with their escorts and enjoy the entertainment with the rest. No gentleman is allowed in the balcony unaccompanied by a lady and no lady can enter it unescorted. The popping of corks and the sparkle of champagne are perpetual adjuncts to this part of the house and the balcony itself, it is safe to say, forms no inconsiderable part of Mr. Engel’s gold mine. Nobody who does not wish to buy anything, however, is ever requested to do so, the ten cents admission fee entitling the visitor to every privilege of the house. Occasionally, it is true, a bit of disorder may break out, caused by some indiscreet visitor imbibing not wisely but too well, but it is very speedily squelched and there is no case on record where a person guilty of causing disorder in Engel’s ever repeated the offense.

Another feature of Engel’s, and many people find it an agreeable one, is the stage boxes. These boxes are located above the stage and behind the curtain, being arranged in such a way that persons seated therein may view all that is going forward on the stage itself and still remain invisible to the audience. With prominent citizens, or other people who like to keep their attendance at the music hall a secret, this is an advantage not to be denied. Occupants of stage boxes, far from being denied the privileges of quenching their thirst, are granted every facility for so doing. There is a neat table in the rear of the box and an obsequious waiter stands steadily at the door ready to minister to the wants of patrons. It is quite permissible, if the occupant of a stage box desires, to send the waiter around behind the scenes to inquire whether this or that fair actress will not deign to imbibe something at your expense, an attention which she duly acknowledges by stepping daintily up beneath the box and, as she quaffs the soothing beverage, nodding her thanks to the donor. A spirit of good nature prevails throughout the entire performance and when it is all over nobody has been hurt very much by his contact with this strange element of life in a great city.

There is another feature of Engel’s which merits a word or two of mention. Promptly at 12 o’clock, in obedience to the mandate of the city fathers, the front doors of the place are closed as tight as a drum. Adjoining the bar, however, is a commodious cafe where parties of friends, from two to ten in number, may sit down and enjoy any sort of a repast that their appetites may crave, with all the liquid accessories thrown in. You, young man, who may have become interested in an especially charming member of Mr. Engel’s corps de ballet, may, if you stay in this cafe long enough, possibly be rewarded by a sight of your charmer for a moment, emerging from behind the scenes in her street clothes after the performance. You are tolerably safe from giving her offense if you offer her refreshment at your expense, though if it happens that she is accompanied by a stalwart cavalier who appears to exert a proprietory influence over her, it is just as well to reserve your attention for some more appropriate season. Some of Mr. Engel’s coryphees take supper regularly every night in his cafe, the costs of such meals presumably being charged against their salary, unless some outside devotee at their various shrines should feel an inclination to pay the bills. Mr. Engel himself, animated by we know not what generous impulse, has been known to sit at the head of a long table, around which were grouped a dozen or so of the lady members of his troupe, and cheerfully invite them to eat or drink their fill at his expense. Some wag, who noticed this spectacle on one occasion, made an observation to the effect that Mr. Engel seemed to be having a good time with his harem, and for that reason, possibly, it has been customary among the flippant and irreverent young men who frequent the place to jocosely refer to it over their wine as “Engel’s harem.”

All in all, it is not such a bad sort of place to visit, especially if the visitor is desirous of seeing something a little unusual in a place where he will not be bothered by a demand for a too strict observance of the proprieties. In any event it is a good place to go if you happen to be in that part of the town after midnight and are possessed of a thirst of the sort that only some of the choice alcoholic liquids dispensed by Mr. Engel and his aids can quench.

On the South side are two well-patronized resorts that, while resembling Engel’s in some respects, differ from it in others. Baum’s Pavilion, situated at the point where 22d street and Cottage Grove and Indiana avenues merge together in a sort of triangle, has been famous for many years as a concert hall, cafe and dance house. It is a large structure of two stories and adjoining the building is an open air expanse or beer garden, dotted with trees, which is always crowded on summer nights. The pavilion is reached from three sides; the main door faces north and entrance can be had either through the beer garden on Cottage Grove avenue or through the restaurant on Indiana avenue. The style of entertainment presented at Baum’s varies from week to week. Sometimes it is a first-class variety show, at other times Mr. Baum grows more ambitious and puts on a full-fledged comic opera troupe as an additional divertisement. The admission fee is 25 cents and the visitor may select his seat according to his fancy. If it is the summer season (that is when Baum’s pavilion is best patronized) the open air garden is only separated from the hall where the opera is in progress by open arches, and one may sit at his table and smoke and drink with nothing but the blue vault of heaven for a roof and at the same time have wafted to his ears the exhilarating music from the stage within.

While the stage show is, of course, the principal feature of Baum’s and the one from which the establishment draws its steady patronage, the dances that are given there usually every Saturday and Sunday night, at the nominal admission fee of fifty cents per couple, are always numerously attended. In the winter season, when the garden is too frosty to be agreeable and is closed up in consequence, the dances are held in the hall above the saloon; but in the radiant summer, when dancing is at best a fatiguing pleasure, they take place on the ground floor. Between the dances the revelers may adjoin to the open air and partake of whatever refreshments their hearts and souls most desire. It is a “free and easy” spot but, as in all other places of the kind, the best of order is always maintained, the least semblance of unruly conduct being sternly checked by the management. Any one who violates a second time the system of etiquette that governs the place is promptly pitched into the street and never again admitted to the hallowed precincts unless he manages to conceal his identity.

The crowd that attend the summer night dances afford excellent opportunity for study; all classes of men and women are represented there. The well-to-do club man who stays at a distance and sips his lemonade in peace and quiet is content to find his share of amusement in watching the antics of the throng; the hard-working and respectable mechanic, who works his best at his trade for six days in the week, is evidently enjoying the bit of recreation that is yielded to him there. Scattered in the crowd are salesmen, barbers, bookmakers, bakers, butchers and almost every other type of the young manhood of the day. Perhaps there may be a few confidence men, bunco steerers, and types of even more dangerous classes, but they are not to be feared. They are there for recreation, not for business; for they know very well that if they made the slightest effort to ply their calling in that place they would be promptly spotted and handed over to the authorities. As to the feminine portion of the assemblage, one is at a loss to convey an adequate idea of it in an off-hand description; it varies with the seasons and the weather. As a general thing, however, you will see there from fifty to two hundred girls and women, some of them the wives and sisters of the mechanics and tradesmen above mentioned, who, like their male relatives, are out for a good time, but the majority are young girls of quite independent standing—servant girls, saleswomen and others, many of them strangers in the city, perhaps, possessed of no sterner guardians than their own consciences, and are pleased to select whatever means may suit them best to pass their spare time. They see no reason why they should not spend at least one evening in a little uproarious festivity. When the dance is at its height and the enthusiasm of the dancers roused to its highest pitch the visitor invariably receives the worth of his money. It does him good to see so many people enjoying themselves, and there is very little doubt that if he is of fairly presentable appearance and sufficiently discreet to work the matter rightly he may without much difficulty obtain a partner for him self and join in the general melee of ecstatic enjoyment. As a general thing the festivity winds up about midnight, but if a few select parties desire to remain a little longer no very serious objection is likely to be made. A very agreeable evening may be passed in this place and the fact that the pavilion has remained where it now stands for more years than one cares to count without any serious protest from the aristocratic residents of this neighborhood, speaks well for the order with which it is conducted.

On the east side of 31st street, between Rhodes and Vernon avenues, there is a much more pretentious concert and dance hall than either of those previously mentioned. It, also, is the enterprise of the same Mr. Baum who runs the 22nd street place. It is a much more imposing structure, having a stone front and a wide entrance brilliantly lighted by electricity. An admission fee of ten cents is charged and the great hall at the rear, in which the stage performance takes place, will accommodate nearly one thousand people. Much the same class of entertainments as those to be witnessed at Engel’s are presented here, with the difference, however, that there are no stage boxes, no balcony for ladies and no means, so far as one may ascertain, of making acquaintances among the performers. Occasionally some singers of higher merit procure engagements at this place and the quality of the music that they contribute to the entertainment is not improved upon in many of the down-town theatres. Half of the hall, the east side, is reserved for ladies escorted by gentlemen; the other half is for the exclusive use of the male patrons. Refreshments of all sorts are served all through the evening at the polished round tables, thus enabling the visitor to satisfy his hunger, as well as his thirst, with any sort of a meal during the progress of the performance.

On the second floor is a ball-room of imposing dimensions and magnificent furnishings. On off nights it is rented out to various societies for their dances, but on very frequent occasions the proprietor advertises a ball that is invariably attended by the youth and beauty of the middle classes residing in the neighborhood. As is the case at all places where liquor is indiscriminately dispensed, a pleasant feeling of informality, not to say hilarity, prevails; the chance visitor, who may nearly always procure admission for himself and his fair companion, if he has one, by the payment of the stipulated fee, may be certain of passing a pleasant time.