“The Fair, considered as an electrical exposition only, would be well worthy the attention of the world.”

—Murat Halstead, “Electricity at the Fair” Cosmopolitan, September 1893.

A great central power plant inside of Machinery Hall powered most of the incandescent lamps, arc lamps, motors, and water pumps for the 1893 World’s Columbian Exposition. Capable of delivering more than 12,000 horsepower (9480 kilowatts), this was not only—by far—the largest power plant ever built but also a stunning exhibit of the most modern electrical machinery of the age. World’s Fair visitors flocked to the Palace of Mechanic Arts to see the huge Allis engine, tandem-driven by belts 72 inches wide. [For more see Barrett, J. P. Electricity at the Columbian Exposition. R. R. Donnelly & Sons, 1894.]

This “monster” engine—started by President Cleveland when he pushed the button to open the Fair on May 1st—played a big role in the news story reprinted below, published a few weeks later in both the Cedar Rapids (IA) Gazette and the Davenport (IA) Daily Leader on May 19, 1893, about a fearless young girl.

World’s Fair visitors flocked to Machinery Hall to see the “monster” Allis engine. [Image from Bancroft, Hubert Howe The Book of the Fair. The Bancroft Company, 1893.]

This great exposition might be compared in one sense with the universe. It has a horizon of dull ivory outlined by the skylines of the huge buildings. It has its stars and other heavenly bodies in the electric search-lights which throw out brilliant streams of light from elevated places. It has a solar system, and the center of this system, the center of light, power and energy, is the mammoth horizontal engine which is king of all engines and which stands in the center of the Palace of Mechanic Arts.

Today this monster was lying still. A dozen or more of his assistants, each a lesser monster, were furnishing all the power needed during the hours of sunlight. It was an hour of rest for the big fellow, and while he rested a very pretty scene occurred.

Standing near the base of the foundation which supports the main shaft and the great wheel was a fond mamma and her pretty little daughter. They looked at the belt which runs from the thirty-foot wheel to the dynamo which has power enough to electrocute a whole city full of people were its currents turned upon them. This belt is seven or eight feet wide [actually 6 feet], and a carriage and pair of horses could be craven over it without danger of collapse.

The little girl in some way had gotten the notion in her pretty head that she wanted to walk out upon the big belt. Her fond mamma, over indulgent, or inspired by some fancy of the imagination, indorsed the idea and appealed to the engineer in charge. Would he object? Would it do any harm? The good-natured master of the monster looked at the pretty little girl and the comely face of the mamma, made more interesting by the soft pleading words and the appealing eyes, and had it not in his heart to say no. So he took the waif in his arms, lifted her upon the giant belt, and fearlessly she tripped put along its broad pathway.

“A little child astride the monster.”

Quite a crowd was present—there is always a crowd around the big engine, whether it is in motion or not—and they applauded with clapping of the hands.

“A little child astride the monster,” commented a visitor whose long hair and soulful eye bespoke the poetic instinct; “an angel standing upon the center of the solar system.”