A Boy's Voyage Round the World

by Samuel Smiles

I spent my fifth night in the train pretty comfortably, having contrived to makeup a tolerable berth. Shortly after I awoke, we crossed the Mississippi on a splendid bridge at Fulton. What a noble river it is! Here, where it must be fifteen hundred miles from its mouth, it seemed to me not less than a mile across. Like the Missouri, however, it is now completely frozen over and covered with thick snow.

We are again passing through a prairie country, the fertile land of upper Illinois, all well settled and cultivated. We pass a succession of fine farms and farmsteads. The fields are divided by rail fences; and in some places stalks of maize peep up through the snow. The pretty wooden houses are occasionally half hidden by the snow-laden trees amidst which they stand. These Illinois clusters of country-houses remind one very much of England, they look so snug and homelike; and they occupy a gently undulating country,—lovely, no doubt, in summer time. But the small towns we passed could never be mistaken for English. They are laid out quite regularly, each house with its little garden surrounding it; the broad streets being planted with avenues of trees.

The snow is lying very heavy on the ground; and there are drifts we pass through full twenty feet deep on either side the road. But the day is fine, the sky is clear and blue, the sun shines brightly, and the whole scene looks much more cheerful than the Rocky Mountain region in the west.

Very shortly, evidences appear of our approach to a considerable place. In fact, we are nearing Chicago. But long before we reach it, we pass a succession of pretty villas and country-houses, quite in the English suburban style, with gardens, shrubberies, and hothouses. These are the residences of the Chicago merchants. The houses become more numerous, and before long we are crossing streets and thoroughfares, the engine snorting slowly along, and the great bell ringing to warn all foot-passengers off the track.

What an immense smoky place we have entered: so different from the pure snow-white prairie country we have passed. It looks just like another Manchester. But I suspect we have as yet traversed only the manufacturing part of the city, as the only buildings heretofore visible are small dwelling-houses and manufactories. At length we pull up in the station, and find ourselves safely landed in Chicago.

Oh, the luxury of a good wash after a continuous journey of two thousand four hundred miles by rail! What a blessing cold water is, did we but know it. The luxury, also, of taking off one's clothes to sleep in a bed, after five nights' rolling about in railway cars,—that also is a thing to be enjoyed once in a lifetime! But, for the sake of the pleasure, I confess I have no particular desire to repeat the process.

And now for the wonders of Chicago. It is really a place worth going a long way to see. It exhibits the enterprise of the American people in its most striking light. Such immense blocks of buildings forming fine broad streets, such magnificent wharves and warehouses, such splendid shops, such handsome churches, and such elegant public buildings! One can scarcely believe that all this has been the work of little more than thirty years.

It is true, the situation of Chicago at the head of Lake Michigan, with a great fertile country behind it, has done much for the place; but without the men, Chicago would have been nothing. It is human industry and energy that have made it what it is. Nothing seems too bold or difficult for the enterprise of Chicago men. One of their most daring but successful feats was in altering the foundation level of the city. It was found that the business quarter was laid too low—that it was damp, and could not be properly drained. It was determined to raise the whole quarter bodily from six to eight feet higher! And the extraordinary feat was accomplished with the help of screw-jacks, safely and satisfactorily.

With the growth of population—and its increase was most rapid (from 4000 persons in 1837 to about 350,000 at the present time)—the difficulty of obtaining pure water steadily increased. There was pure water enough in the lake outside, but along shore it was so polluted by the sewage that it could not be used with safety. Two methods were adopted to remedy this evil. One was, to make Artesian wells 700 feet deep, which yield about a million gallons of pure water per day; but another, and much bolder scheme, was undertaken, that of carrying a tunnel under the bed of the lake, two miles out, into perfectly pure water; and this work was successfully accomplished and completed on the 25th of March, 1867, when the water was let into the tunnel to flow through the pipes and quadrants of the city. Thus 57 million gallons of water per day could be supplied to the inhabitants.

Another important and daring work was that involved in carrying the traffic of the streets from one side of the Chicago river (which flows through the city) to the other, without the interference of bridges. This was accomplished by means of tunnels constructed beneath the bed of the river. The first tunnel was carried across from Washington Street to the other side some years since; it was arched with brick, floored with timber, and lighted with gas. The second, lower down the same river, was still in progress at the period of my visit to the city in March last, and is not yet completed. By means of these tunnels the traffic of the streets will be sufficiently accommodated, without any interruption by the traffic of the river,—large ships proceeding directly up to the wharves above to load and unload their cargoes.