Chicago by day and night

by Harold R. Vynne

With the exception of the Auditorium and the Chicago Opera House the plans of which have been heretofore outlined, the theatres, so far as at present known, have not arranged for any special attractions during the fair. All of the down-town houses have booked more or less to the time from May to October, and the attractions for the most part are such standard renditions as have been proved popular with playgoers for the last two or three years. The patron of the regular playhouses will be able to take his choice between grand or light opera, local drama, tragedy, comedy or burlesque, and the most exacting taste will doubtless be amply satisfied. The contract between managers Abbey and Adams for the production at the Auditorium has already been signed and the spectacle to be presented there will, it is expected, eclipse anything that these two managers have ever before attempted. At the Chicago Opera House the first great successes in the way of burlesque that Mr. Hendersen scored, “Arabian Nights,” “Crystal Slipper,” and “Sinbad,” are to be repeated in rotation, and people will have an opportunity to witness the perfection of the class of entertainment termed by the irreverent “leg-shows,” but known to the world at large by the more dignified title of burlesque.

Pain & Sons, the great firm whose pyrotechnical productions have made them famous wherever fireworks are known, are to produce their famous spectacle, “The Fall of Pompeii,” at the Cottage Grove amphitheatre, near South park, this summer. They are also, it is understood, arranging for a production on a much more wonderful scale for the fair season in the same locality. One of the beauties of the Pain projections is their shortness. Their glare and brilliancy is generally crowded into an hour or at most an hour and a half, thus enabling the spectator to secure a surfeit of pleasure, as it were, in a short space of time, without forcing him to spend an unnecessary season in waiting, Micawber-like, for something to turn up.

The racing, the boating, the riding, and the hundred other attractions of the city have already been described in detail. None are likely to get away between the present time and the day set for the opening of the fair. On the contrary, they are likely to be added to and enhanced, for human ingenuity is being taxed to its utmost to invent new charms for the pleasure-seeker and, incidentally, of course, to catch the nimble dollar that he is willing to disburse for the procurement of such pleasures, elevating or otherwise.

Of course no well regulated person ever enters a saloon except for purposes of investigation, but there are a few saloons and cafes in Chicago that are visited as much for sight-seeing as for liquid refreshment. In some there hang pictures worth small fortunes. The objects represented are generally a little bit outre—“saloonish,” as I have heard it called. Hannah & Hogg’s saloons, of which there are several, located in the business district at various points, are celebrated for the works of art that adorn their walls. The one on Madison street, under the Madison Street Opera House, contains a valuable gallery of paintings, the cash estimate of which runs into thousands of dollars. This is the largest place owned by the firm; some of their branch establishments contain rare pictures that are almost as valuable.

“Handsome Harry Varnell’s” place on South Clark street, near Madison, is perhaps the most gorgeous saloon in Chicago. It was only recently completed at a cost said to exceed $40,000. All the walls and wainscoting are finished in Mexican onyx, and the outer part is designed in iron and bronze. Some oil paintings, the subjects of which are very interesting, adorn the walls. Varnell, the proprietor, is a “character.” He enjoys a large popularity with the sporting classes. He is said to be interested in the Garfield park race track and is quite a “plunger” at other games as well. He was one of the principals in the old-time “boodle” sensation, which resulted in several of the county officials of that period going to the penitentiary under sentence for bribery and corruption.

Just across the way from Varnell’s is Lansing & McGarigle’s saloon and restaurant, a place made famous both by the personality of its chief proprietor and by a historical tragedy that occurred there some few years ago. William J. McGarigle has held various offices. He was once superintendent of police and later warden of the county hospital. When the boodle trials were held he was tried and sentenced to two years imprisonment, but, while awaiting in the county jail the result of his appeal for a new trial, he secured permission from Canute R. Matson, the sheriff of the county, to visit his home. He drove there with Matson, and, on the pretext of taking a bath, he slipped away from the house, boarded a schooner, and got over into Canada. His flight formed one of the newspaper sensations of the hour. Matson never quite recovered from the shock. In the language of the song, McGarigle “never came back,” that is to say, not until his friends had so arranged things that when he did come back he was permitted to pay his debt to the law by the payment of a fine of $1,000. McGarigle’s place now is a famous rendezvous for “sports” of both sexes. The fare served is of a high quality, and the visitor may find all the enjoyment he desires in studying the people who sit at the tables near him. There are ladies of great beauty and of all ages, but all of whom manifestly belong to the class whose existence reputable people endeavor to forget; there are gamblers, touts and so on, in loud clothes and wearing much loud jewelry, both genuine and bogus. The best of order and good conduct prevail for the reason that no boisterous actions are tolerated. But sometimes all the rules and regulations in the world are not proof against the angry passions of men, a fact that was conclusively proved by the tragedy already mentioned.

The principals were “Doc” Haggerty, a well known and very muscular person, who bore the reputation of being something of a bully, and “Jimmy” Connorton, a gambler. There was a feud between the two and when Connorton went into McGarigle’s place one Saturday evening and met his foe face to face high words and blows were instantly interchanged. Accounts vary as to who first drew the deadly pistol, but Connorton got in the first shot. He shot Haggerty through the stomach, and then fled through the restaurant, pursued by the wounded man, who at every step snapped his revolver in the effort to slay his adversary. But the weapon would not explode, and it was not until the two reached the sidewalk and Connorton had almost succeeded in escaping through a line of cabs that it did respond to the fall of the hammer. Connorton sunk to the sidewalk desperately wounded. The excitement over the tragedy was only equalled by that occasioned by the Dunn-Elliott encounter in the old Tivoli. Haggerty died, but Connorton recovered and was acquitted on the ground of self-defense. At present Lansing & McGarigle’s is a model resort of its kind. It caters to the sporting element almost exclusively, and happily such tragedies like the one here told do not occur often.

Hogan and Batchelder’s, two well-known and popular resorts on State street, also cater to the sporting element. They have private supper-rooms in which hilarious parties are wont to hold high revel, especially after a return from a successful day at the races.

The places mentioned are of course of a certain variety, but the reader has been told in preceding chapters of the many more quiet and more decorous places that he may visit. It is a “great big” city, full of all sorts of attractions, godly and ungodly. If the world’s fair should be closed on Sundays, something that the religious element is sedulously endeavoring to bring about, the army of pleasure-seekers will be driven to the city itself for recreation.