Hesperothen; Notes from the West, Vol. 1 (of 2): A Record of a Ramble in the United States and Canada in the Spring and Summer of 1881Russell, William Howard, Sir
History
Hesperothen; Notes from the West, Vol. 1 (of 2): A Record of a Ramble in the United States and Canada in the Spring and Summer of 1881
Russell, William Howard, Sir
United States -- Description and travel
Minneapolis would well deserve a separate chapter to itself if I could
give it. It is a "twin city," for St. Anthony is linked to it, and it
boasts a university, an opera-house, an academy of music, fine public
buildings, an Athenæum, a public library, many churches, and the broad
streets are lined with shade-giving trees and fine shops and houses;
and yet it was as late as 1837 that the United States obtained by
treaty from the Sioux the right of settling in the country at all; and
the city of St. Paul is partly built on the piece of land which was
obtained by a Canadian named Pierre Parent in the same year, and which
he sold for 16_l._! And now the hum of life, the thunder of machinery,
the smoke of factories, fill the valley. The Mississippi groans under
the masses of timber and innumerable keels. How much to admire! what
energy! what enterprise! But how nature suffered from it all! The
Falls of St. Anthony turned into the overflow of a canal lock! The
great river converted into a sewer laden with manure and sawdust! The
lovely landscape defaced by hideous mills, elevators, factories! How
the poets should rage, and the plutocrats rejoice!
An hour had been spent in the drive round the city, an hour and a half
more in the excursion by road to the rival greatness of Minneapolis,
another hour was devoted to taking a leisurely view of the Falls of
St. Anthony (which were artificial and disappointing), and an
inspection of Mr. Washburn's great mills worked by the captive river.
On our way back the party made a halt to take a glance at Minnehaha,
the "laughing water" (Oh, Mr. Longfellow! How could you?)--a pretty
little cascade enough as we saw it--in a deep wooded dell, about half
the height of the Fall at Powerscourt; beset, too, with photographers
and harpies. Still, we did our duty. The Auditor and others descended
to the bed of the rivulet, crossed it, and walked round behind the
Falls in due course, and struggled up to the top triumphant. Then we
went back by a different route to Minneapolis, feeling we had well
filled up a very hot, dusty, and profitable day of honest labour, with
many a pleasant incident to boot.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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