Читать книгу Wonderland; or, Alaska and the Inside Passage - John Thomas Hyde - Страница 5

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“To the doorways of the West-Wind,

To the portals of the Sunset.”

hile, in the old world, armies have been contending for the possession of narrow strips of territory, in kingdoms themselves smaller than many single American States, and venerable savants have been predicting the near approach of the time when the population of the world shall have outstripped the means of subsistence, there has arisen, between the headwaters of the Mississippi and the mouth of the stately Columbia, an imperial domain, more than three times the size of the German empire, and capable of sustaining upon its own soil one hundred millions of people. What little has been done—for it is but little, comparatively—toward the development of its amazing resources, has called into existence, on its eastern border, two great and beautiful cities, which have sprung up side by side on the banks of the great Father of Waters.

It is there, at St. Paul and Minneapolis, that the traveler's journey to Wonderland may be said to begin. And what could be more fitting? for are they not wonders in themselves, presenting, as they do, the most astonishing picture of rapid expansion the world has ever seen?

But it is not their magnitude that excites the greatest surprise. If there is a single newspaper reader in ignorance of the fact that the State census of 1885 found them with a population of 240,597? or that the 23,994 buildings erected within their limits since the beginning of 1882, represent a frontage of over 100 miles and an expenditure of $69,895,390, or that their banking capital considerably exceeds that of either San Francisco, New Orleans, Cincinnati or St. Louis, it is through no fault of the cities themselves. But the visitor may bring with him a just appreciation of their size and commercial importance, and yet have had no conception of their beauty, nor of the abounding evidences of public spirit and private enterprise that will confront him at every turn.

The position of St. Paul, at the head of navigation, and as the focus of the railway activity of the Northwest, commands for it an extensive wholesale trade, its sales aggregating, in 1885, the large sum of $81,420,000. The surprise with which the visitor views the stately piles that are the outward and visible signs of the vast commercial and financial interests of the city, the creation of a few brief seasons, is no greater than the astonishment with which he realizes the absence of all appearance of immaturity. In no city in the Union are the business quarters more solid and substantial; in none is the domestic architecture more attractive. Nothing is crude, nothing tentative, nothing transitional.

Clustered around the great Falls of St. Anthony, stand those colossal flouring mills that have been more than ever the pride and glory of Minneapolis, since they enabled her to pluck from Chicago's crown one of the brightest of its jewels. It is a startling commentary upon the much vaunted supremacy of the great metropolis of the West, that, while the wheat attracted to its market fell gradually from 34,106,109 bushels in 1879, to 13,265,223 bushels in 1885, the amount handled by the millers of Minneapolis increased, within the same period, from 7,514,364 bushels to 32,112,840 bushels. The mills have a total flour-manufacturing capacity of 33,973 barrels per day, an amount equal to the necessities of the three most populous States of the Union, or of one-half the population of Great Britain.

But to turn from the romance of figures to that of song and story. Should the traveler have any desire to visit the far-famed falls of Minnehaha, it is now he should gratify it. Situated almost midway between the two cities, they can be easily reached, either by train, carriage or river steamboat. The poetic interest with which they have been invested by their association with the legend of Hiawatha constitutes but the least of their claims upon the traveler's notice; and, should he turn aside to visit them, not even the sublime scenery of Wonderland will entirely efface the memory of their laughing waters.

The residents of St. Paul and Minneapolis are fortunate in having, within easy access, two of the most beautiful of Minnesota's ten thousand lakes, White Bear and Minnetonka. Justly celebrated for the beauty of their scenery and the excellence of their hotel and other accommodations, they are resorted to annually by thousands of visitors from far and near. Minnetonka is not inappropriately called the Saratoga of the Northwest; but no designation, however high-sounding or significant, can do justice to the exquisite beauty of its scenery or the sumptuousness of its hotels.

It is time, however, that we were directing our steps toward that scarcely less luxurious hotel which is waiting to convey us to the fir-clad slopes of Puget Sound! While holding in honorable remembrance the names of Watt and Stephenson, surely posterity ought not altogether to forget those of the inventors of the sleeping car and dining car; for the railway train of early days was hardly a greater advance upon the old stage-coach than is the completely equipped train of to-day over its predecessor of even twenty-five years ago.

The journey from St. Paul to Puget Sound may be said to fall into eight geographical divisions, with well-marked natural boundaries, and corresponding in the main to the divisions into which the line has been formed for operating purposes. The first extends to the Red River of the North, a distance of 275 miles, lying wholly in the State of Minnesota.

The great attractions of this State are its pine forests, covering nearly one-half of its entire area, and its numerous beautiful lakes. Of the latter, there are no fewer than 215 within twenty-five miles of St. Paul, and they extend right through the central part of the State, on both sides of the railroad, to the prairie region bordering upon the Red River. Many of them are of exceeding beauty, especially in the district known as the