Mr. Harry Hems of Exeter, England, submitted the following report on his return visit to Chicago for the opening of the 1893 World’s Fair. At the Exposition, he worked in the British section of the Manufactures and Liberal Arts Building. His unflattering missive from May 15, 1893, about “the most dangerous town in the world” was reprinted in the June 1 issue of the Irish Builder. Let’s hope the rest of Mr. Hems’ time at the Chicago fair left a better impression.

THE “WORLD’S FAIR,” CHICAGO.

The following, from the pen of Mr. Harry Hems, Exeter, appeared in the Western Times of Saturday last:

When I came here five weeks ago, the buildings were in a state of chaos, and the grounds a huge slough of despond always ankle and often knee deep in mud. Since then we have sampled all kinds of bad weather—snow, sleet, hail, rain, &c., and there have been only three fine days all the while. Even yesterday (I write on the 15th of May) a little sleet was mixed with the morning’s rain. We all wear our overcoats, as if it were mid-winter in England, and as yet the trees are as bare as are the masts of an ocean-sailing barque in a hurricane. Wonderful progress has been made in the grounds and exhibition buildings generally, but an immense deal else has to be done, and it will probably be quite the 4th of July—the great feast here of the year—before all is ready for the reception of the anticipated millions of visitors who, it is supposed, will flock in from all parts of the world.

And what of Chicago itself? Well, since last I paid it a visit (twelve years ago), she has waxed bigger and uglier than ever. There is not a decent church in the whole place—of course I speak from an architectural and artistic point of view—but there are some gigantic buildings mostly used as offices or hotels, built in amongst others of ordinary size. There are heaps of wretched wooden shanties, propped up for fear of falling down, within a mile of the centre of the city. Everywhere the roads are frightfully bad, and except, in just the very best streets, the pavements are of the most primitive description, generally of loose planks, more or less, or rather more than less rotten. The lake in front gives a tone to the place, but the breezes that come from it are very changeable, and make the climate a very trying one. The whole place with a population (so Chicago says) of about one and a-half million inhabitants, is built upon a swamp. The drainage all goes into the lake, and then the teetotallers here drink it again! I have not tasted the water yet, not feeling quite up to the experiment but all the “Britishers” who have done so have suffered for their venturesomeness in one way or another.

The “World’s Fair” (as the folks here delight to call the Exhibition) is seven or eight miles away from the middle of the city, and close by the water. It is a big place, probably measuring a couple of miles from one extremity to the other, and is a half a-mile or more wide. There are several ways of getting to it from the city. For 5d. you go in through cars, close by the water’s edge, in fifteen minutes. This is the best and quickest way. The steamers are the pleasantest route. They take an hour, and the cost is 10d. It costs the same also by the Illinois railway, which has stations at every few “blocks,” and takes half-an-hour. On the elevated railway the distance is done for 2½d. in forty minutes, and the cable cars get over the ground for the same sum in exactly an hour. All these modes of locomotion have constant services, and if you are just too late for one, another is certainly about to start.

The opening, on the first of May, was a very simple affair, and not at all an imposing ceremony. The President of the United States seems a very genial sort of man, and a hard worker. He came through the British section of the Manufactures’ Building, and upon introduction, shook me warmly by the hand.

“Presidential Reception in the Manufactures Building” from the Chicago Inter Ocean May 2, 1893.

They are dreadful robbers here! People go into restaurants, and come out without paying–thinking it smart. On the opening day, in the German café near my exhibit, one poor waiter was so much as 11 dollars (£25s. 10d.) out of pocket by this contemptible sort of thing. In the Jamaica stand, next to mine, many things have been stolen. On my own, a useful business-card-rack, that had done duty at several International exhibitions before, went the first day, and a few nights ago someone climbed 20 ft. up my great crucifix, and purloined one of the nails by which the colossal Christ is suspended. Coats and umbrellas are stolen regularly, and one and all of the exhibitors complain of what they have lost. Of course, there are the Columbia Guards (exhibition policemen) here, thick as thieves everywhere!!

Are things dear at Chicago? do you ask. “You bet” they are. A dollar (4s. 2d.) will not go farther than sixpence in Exeter, and the city is probably at the present time the most dangerous town in the world. When I was in the wilds of Morocco, a few years ago, I never ran a third of the risks everyone runs here, who gets about.

The British section of the Manufactures and Liberal Arts Building, where Mr. Harry Hems worked. Shown nearby are the German café and Jamaica section he mentions in his letter. [Image from Diagrams of World’s Fair Buildings (Rand McNally, 1893).]