With the national economy in full recovery by 1848, and Chicago’s network of rails beginning to spread in all four directions that would allow the trains to bring people to the city, its population had started to explode.  When Ogden had placed his first wooden tie at Kinzie and Halsted in 1848, Chicago’s population was 20,023; in 1857, the city’s new railroads had assisted in the growth of its population to 93,000 (roughly four out of every five people on the city’s sidewalks had arrived since 1848).  New housing for over 70,000 people had to be constructed in only nine years.  The city would also be forced to accommodate this growth in all areas of its institutions and buildings.


While Chicago’s economy during the period 1845-47 began to regain its robust pre-Panic boom-town atmosphere, the city’s churches had all they could do in keeping the heads of their congregation from being turned once again by the temptations of Mammon.  The Protestant congregations strove to fill the new buildings they had all built around the Public Square.  All of the congregations, that is, except the Presbyterians, who had chosen to refrain from the building competition and instead, continued to use their enlarged original building that they had moved to the southwest corner of Washington and Clark in 1839.  Their lack of interest in a new building may have been the result of other congregational priorities, for the First Presbyterian Church was known as the nucleus of Chicago’s growing abolitionist movement.  These sentiments were undoubtedly brought to the surface by the congregation’s third pastor, Rev. Flavel Bascom, who had arrived in Chicago in December 1839.  Raised in the Northeast and a graduate of Yale College, Bascom was steeped in a religious tradition of activist concern and involvement in public issues.  As soon as he had arrived in town he attended (perhaps even organized) Chicago’s first anti-slavery meeting.  Through Bascom’s efforts, the First Presbyterian Church housed a series of anti-slavery lectures that began in 1841.

Regardless of the notoriety gained through this selfless campaign, the congregation eventually had to take a long, critical look at its frumpy frock of a building that was now surrounded by the new elaborate edifices erected by its spiritual neighbors.  Finally in 1847, two years after the Methodists across the street had finally replaced their original building, the Presbyterians commissioned Van Osdel to design a steeple taller than the one he had completed for the Methodists.  The congregation was not, however, as financially well-endowed as their neighbors, which forced Van Osdel into a number of compromises.  Judging by a later photograph of the building, the importance of an elaborate steeple was paramount to the Presbyterians.  While Van Osdel embellished the steeple with detail, including scrolled brackets and paired Ionic columns, the 66′ by 113′ body of the building was a plain, brick box, with the exception of the then standard columns (doric) in antis at the recessed entry.  Gone was the Greek Temple pediment roofline that all the surrounding churches sported, replaced by a humble, horizontal cornice, from which the 163′ tower rather abruptly shot into the sky. Van Osdel’s cost-cutting efforts notwithstanding, the extravagant steeple had contributed to the final cost of $28,000, which far exceeded the congregation’s modest resources and placed a heavy burden of debt upon the church.  Following the dedication of the new building in September 1849, Rev. Bascom, having seen the project through to completion, was relieved of the position at his own request, that he had so faithfully performed for the last ten years. Had the extreme cost of building Chicago’s tallest tower led to his undoing?  Or had it been the conflict that had resulted from his strident abolitionist zeal?

John M. Van Osdel. Left: First Presbyterian Church with 163’ steeple, southwest corner of Washington and Clark, 1847. A view from the Courthouse cupola taken by Hessler in 1858. (Kogan and Wendt, Chicago: A Pictorial History)


Andreas, Alfred T. History of Chicago- vols. 1&2. Chicago, 1884-1886. Reprint, New York: Arno Press, 1975.

(If you have any questions or suggestions, please feel free to eMail me at: thearchitectureprofessor@gmail.com)


The ongoing battle between the railroads and the riverboats notwithstanding, the need for faster communications between the East Coast and California was such that Congress on March 3, 1857, authorized the Postmaster General to advertise for bids to establish regular mail delivery between San Francisco and St. Louis.  As San Francisco was the largest community along the Pacific Coast as well as a naval base, this terminus was a given.  St. Louis, as I have been noting all along, was in the middle of the country and therefore, acceptable, and convenient to both North and South.  The contract was awarded to John Butterfield, who had proposed a southern route around the mountains, even though it was 600 miles longer, in deference to the practical limitations of horse-drawn coaches through snow-covered mountain passes.  However, even this decision could not avoid antebellum politics and the Postmaster General, who was from Tennessee, saw to it that Memphis, in addition to St. Louis, was also made a terminus, the two routes joining at Fort Smith, AR.  

The Route of the Butterfield Overland Express.

It took Butterfield over a year and a half to assemble the stations, coaches, horses, and drivers, but on September 15, 1858, the first of the regular bi-monthly Butterfield Overland Mail coaches set-off from St. Louis.  No longer did mail between the two coasts have to sail to Panama (regular railroad service across Panama had begun in 1855) and back, but more to the point, as late as 1858, St. Louis in the center of the country, was still the preferred jumping-off point for the Pacific coast.  But it was St. Louis’ last hurrah, for Chicago’s ever-expanding railroad web had finally crossed the Mississippi and a similar express mail service to Sacramento, CA, the Pony Express, was initiated on April 3, 1860.  This presaged a change in the wind because its eastern terminus was not St. Louis, but St. Joseph, MO.  While St. Joseph was only 75 miles north of St. Louis, it was connected via the Hannibal & St. Joseph and the Chicago. Burlington & Quincy Railroads to Chicago. For all but the cleaning up after, Chicago won the battle with St. Louis to become the center of the West.  Boston’s perseverance in constructing T.H. Perkins’ “Railroad scheme,” a railroad to link Boston to the Pacific (and the “China Trade”) had succeeded, some thirty-two years after the first wooden tie for the Boston & Worcester had been laid.  Perkins, however, didn’t quite live to see his vision competed; he had died in 1854.

Above: The Route of the Pony Express; Below: Route of the H&StJ from St. Joseph to Quincy, and then on to Chicago.


The IC station in Chicago finally opened on June 12, 1856, poignantly only three weeks after the sack of Lawrence, KS.  The IC was by then longest railroad in the world, and when combined with the other lines that connected to Chicago, made the city the hub of the largest network of railroad tracks in the U.S., if not in the world.  

“In 1857 Chicago had nearly four thousand miles of railroad tributary to herself, and the joint earnings of the companies amounted to over eighteen and a half millions of dollars!… [at the time of] the Rockford Convention of 1847, Chicago had not a mile of road… by 1855 [it had] almost 3,000, while, within a period of two years more, another thousand was added to the three.  The world had never before saw such a stride made towards commercial supremacy.”

This network linked the NorthWest not only to the East Coast, but also to the South and would allow Chicago to pull abreast of its two river city competitors to the south, Cincinnati and St. Louis, in terms of economic and political importance by the start of the Civil War.   In 1848, when Ogden had placed his first wooden tie at Kinzie and Halsted, Chicago’s population was 20,023; in 1857, the city’s new railroads had assisted in the growth of its population to 93,000 (roughly four out of every five people on the city’s sidewalks had arrived since 1848). In 1857, there were four roads linking Chicago to the East Coast:

Michigan Southern and Northern Indiana

Michigan Central

Grand Trunk (through Canada, north shore of Lake Erie, bridge over Niagara Falls)

(the Pittsburgh, Ft. Wayne, and Chicago would be completed in 1858, making a   connection with the Pennsylvania RR to Philadelphia -see Chap. 9)

There were six trunk lines leaving Chicago for the north, the west, and the south.  Starting from the north and rotating counterclockwise:

       Chicago & Milwaukee (see Chap. 9)

       Illinois & Wisconsin

       Galena & Chicago Union

       Chicago, Burlington, and Quincy (using the tracks of the G&CU to/from Turner Junction)

Joliet & Chicago (see Chap. 9; it was reorganized in 1861 as the Chicago & Alton)

Chicago & Rock Island

Illinois Central

There were now five terminals in Chicago (that served these railroads). Starting from the north and rotating clockwise:

the Illinois & Wisconsin Station (I&W, C&M)

the Galena & Chicago Union Station (G&CU, CB&Q)

the Illinois Central Station (IC, MC)

the Chicago & Western Indiana-Dearborn Station (GT, Erie)

the Michigan Southern and Rock Island-La Salle Station (MS, C&RI, J&C)

1855 Chicago Railroad Map. It shows four of the five stations ringing the business district: clockwise from the northwest- Illinois & Wisconsin, G&CU, IC (and MC), and MS/RI. Curiously missing is the Dearborn Station of the C&WI (GT and Erie).

These were located strategically around the periphery of the business district, yet Common Council had not allowed one iron rail of the world’s largest railroad network to be laid within the 64-block grid of this district. By this date, the last link in the through route from Boston, John Roebling’s suspension bridge across the Niagara valley had been completed in March 1855, thereby completing the Great Western Railroad in Canada along the northern shore of Lake Erie between Buffalo and Detroit.  It was now possible to board a Boston & Worcester train at State Street in Boston, and travel by railroad (except for a ferry across the Detroit River) to within a three block walk of State Street in Chicago:

“As we approached Chicago, the prairie subsided into swampy land, and thick belts of trees fringed the horizon; on our right glimpses of sea could be caught through openings in the wood – the inland sea on which stands the queen of the lakes.  Michigan looks broad and blue as the Mediterranean.  Large farmhouses stud the country, and houses which must be the retreat of merchants and citizens of means; and when the train, leaving the land altogether, dashes out on a pier and causeway built along the borders of the lake, we see lines of noble houses, a fine boulevard, a forest of masts, huge isolated piles of masonry, the famed grain elevators by which so many have been hoisted to fortune, churches and public edifices, and the apparatus of a great city.  And just at nine o’clock the train gives its last steam shout and comes to a standstill in the spacious station of the Central Illinois Company, and in half-an-hour I am in comfortable quarters at the Richmond House.”

John Roebling, The Suspension Railroad Bridge over Niagara River, near Niagara Falls, NY, completed March 17, 1855. A double deck bridge with a span of 822 feet. Note the diagonal stays below the lower deck to the ground, stabilizing the bridge deck. The upper deck carried New York Central trains over the river to make a connection with the Great Western trains that would take passengers to Detroit and the Michigan central. (Stover, Iron Road to the West)


Andreas, Alfred T. History of Chicago- vols. 1&2. Chicago, 1884-1886. Reprint, New York: Arno Press, 1975.

Borneman, Walter R., Iron Horses: America’s Race to Bring the Railroad West, New York: Back Bay, 2010.

(If you have any questions or suggestions, please feel free to eMail me at: thearchitectureprofessor@gmail.com)


The increasing resistance to slavery ignited by Douglas’ Kansas-Nebraska Bill finally brought the opponents of slavery who were either former Whigs or Democrats together and coalesced into the Republican Party, formally established at a convention held in Pittsburgh on February 22, 1856.  This group tasked each state to organize a State Republican Party, to be led by a Central Committee, in order to be able to call for a national Presidential Convention.  Illinois’ convention was set to be held in Bloomington on May 29, 1856, with Ogden being named the delegate from the state’s Second District and Norman Judd named to the Committee on Resolutions.  But three weeks before the convention, the Effie Afton, a steamboat owned by St. Louis businessman John Hurd, suspiciously “crashed” into Farnam’s bridge over the Mississippi within two weeks of its completion on May 6, 1856, setting the boat as well as a portion of the bridge on fire.  Hurd filed a suit against the Chicago railroad and its bridge for damages (at that time Ogden was the Vice-President of the M&M that was the continuation of the C&RI on the other end of the bridge).  St. Louis and its steamboat interests were simply not just going to lie down and surrender to Chicago’s railroads.  The Mississippi River was St. Louis’ last line of defense and Farnum’s bridge at Rock Island was the first attempt to breech it.  Having failed first to prevent its construction via the Federal government’s rather anemic efforts by Sec. of War Davis, St. Louis’ interests had no alternative but to destroy the bridge as soon as possible, and then enjoin in a litigation battle to prevent its replacement on the grounds that a bridge over the river interfered with the free navigation rights of the steamboat owners.

Hurd filed a suit against the Chicago railroad and its bridge for damages, while Farnum set out to repair the damaged bridge as quickly as possible.  Judd, the bridge company’s president, however, had more immediate matters to attend to with the organizing of the “new” state Republican Party at its convention in Bloomington.  Its closing address was delivered by forty-seven-year-old Springfield attorney Abraham Lincoln.  Following his disappointing loss of not being named Commissioner of the Federal Land Office by Pres. Taylor in 1849, Lincoln had retired from politics and returned to his private law practice, focusing on transportation cases, eventually moving into the new arena of railroad law.  By 1856 Lincoln had already made a name for himself in cases that dated back to 1851 that involved the railroad industry and its corresponding issues, his most recent client being the Illinois Central Railroad.  Lincoln historians credit Douglas’ Kansas-Nebraska Act as the spark that had reinvigorated Lincoln’s political ambitions, in that he entered the 1854 campaign for Illinois’ U. S. Senate seat, then held by Douglas stalwart James Shields, with a series of speeches in which he laid out his opposition to Douglas’ support of “Popular Sovereignty.”  Although Whig Lincoln had led at the start of the voting in the Illinois Senate, his support began to dwindle as the Democrats were forced to drop Shields and began to vote for Governor Joel Matteson. Lincoln eventually threw his support behind “Anti-Nebraskan” Democrat Lyman Trumbull, who ended up serving in the Senate for the next eighteen years.  Nonetheless, Lincoln had quickly emerged as the state’s leading “Anti-Nebraskan” at the time of the Effie Afton’s crash into the Rock Island’s bridge.

Lincoln’s closing speech at the convention is known as Lincoln’s “Lost Speech” as there are no surviving accounts or transcripts. While all of the convention’s attendees attest to the power of the speech, some historians blame its power for its loss as reporters forgot to take notes while under its spell, while other historians posit that Lincoln’s supporters asked reporters to “lose” their notes as its strong denunciation of slavery was ahead of its time and might jeopardize Lincoln’s planned run against Douglas’ for his Senate seat in 1858.  Although Ogden had been forced by other matters to decline to attend the state convention, Judd was so effective in organizing the entire proceedings that he was appointed to the powerful position of Chairman of the State Central Committee, from which he would influence future events that would steer Lincoln into the Presidency.  Judd was an obvious choice as the Chairman of the Illinois delegation to the Party’s National Convention in Philadelphia on June 17-9, 1856, that nominated the great explorer John C. Frémont as its presidential candidate. (The previous year his father-in-law, Sen. Benton, had lost his last election as Missouri’s divided politics would no longer support his moderate and Unionist views.) With a party plank that called for a transcontinental railroad along St. Louis’ “compromise” central route, the convention slogan quickly became, “Freedom, Frémont, and the Railroad.”  At the convention Lincoln was narrowly defeated as the party’s candidate for Vice-President. At the same convention, Judd was named to the Republican National Committee that would be responsible for choosing the site of the party’s 1860 national convention.

Meanwhile, as the two sides of the Hurd v. Rock Island Bridge Company case neared their day in court, slated for Sept. 1857, Farnum and Judd retained the rising star of the new Republican Party, Lincoln with only four weeks before the trial was to begin, to represent the companies in court.  Lincoln set out to defend the railroad bridge against Hurd’s suit, in which he was successful in getting a favorable verdict that was appealed and not finally settled until 1872 in favor of the railroad.  The Effie Afton, however, was by no means the only attempt by St. Louis steamboat interests to destroy the Rock Island bridge.  Numerous boats were made to crash into the bridge, allowing their owners to sue the bridge company in hopes of having the courts force the demolition of the bridge.  The low point in this tragic battle between Chicago and St. Louis came in June 1859, when a watchman had found a bomb constructed on the bridge’s roadbed.


This was the situation on the ground when Douglas returned from his European travels.  The treaty that resulted in the Gadsden Purchase, signed on December 30, 1853, had upped the pressure on the Northerners to find a solution to the Nebraska problem.  Douglas believed he had to act before the date that Davis was to receive the results of the then-underway surveys, that initially was scheduled for February 6, 1854, or he would lose what little leverage he still had with the Southerners.  Davis, at the same time, also understood that time was now acting against his plans, in that not only were the surveys not completed as scheduled, requiring an extension, but Farnum was quickly closing in on the Mississippi that he finally reached on February 22.  Davis needed to slow down Farnum’s construction and finally realized that he had just the opportunity to do so by stopping Farnum’s bridge construction on the Federal jurisdiction of Rock Island.  On April 19, he ordered Farnum to cease construction of the bridge, but got no response from the bridge company’s president, attorney Norman Judd.  Davis then dispatched the U.S. Marshall for the District of Illinois to enforce his order who arrived in Rock Island on July 17, 1854.  “For some unknown reason,” the Marshall, however, did not complete his assigned duties to confront Pres. Judd.  Davis, however, did not give up without making a last-ditch attempt to stop Farnum’s progress; in July 1855 he asked for injunction to stop the construction of the Rock Island bridge.  Fortunately, the case was heard in the U.S. Circuit Court for Northern Illinois, with Judd representing his company.  Judge John MacLean ruled that as the Federal government had abandoned the island, it could not now claim that it still had jurisdiction over it.  It was now public land, and thus, “a State has the power to construct a public road through public lands.”  Ogden’s Pacific railroad continued to run right on schedule.

As the Rock Island battle was being played out, Douglas had been attempting to bring the Nebraska issue to a final resolution.  Even though the Missouri Compromise of 1820 had required that all land in the Louisiana Purchase west of Missouri and north of Missouri’s southern border would be forever free of slavery, the Mexican-American War had revealed that much of the land south of this line was relatively uninhabitable, with the consequence that its population might not be sufficient to apply for statehood (indeed, Arizona did not achieve statehood until 1912), that could possibly put the Southern states at a long-term political disadvantage.  Southern senators, therefore, were opposed to the Nebraska territory (which at this time included all of what would become the State of Kansas) being organized as a formal entity unless the concept of the Compromise of 1850, that is, the avoidance of the Missouri Compromise’s prohibition of slavery above the 36° 30’ line, was also applied to this territory as well.  

Such insistence had prevented any resolution of the Nebraska issue during 1853 as Southerners held the majority in the Senate. Pressure from both sides, however, was mounting to form a territorial government as settlers were crossing into the area along its border.  A meeting of such settlers was held in St. Joseph, MO, in early January 1854 to press the matter in Congress.  Douglas wrote a letter to the meeting expressing his support of the issue and at the same time, Douglas released his draft of a Nebraska Bill from his Committee on Territories on Janaury 4, 1854, in which he had applied Popular Sovereignty, thereby once again choosing to ignore the Missouri Compromise of 1820.  As opposed to his success in forging a compromise in 1850, however, the political winds of the country in 1854 had begun to harden on both sides of the slavery issue to the point where no such overarching solution as was the Compromise of 1850, would be agreeable to the majority of the country.  Following three weeks of political debate and horse-trading, Douglas completely surprised the Senate on January 23 by presenting a completely new bill, one that had split the originally planned territory into two, carving out the Territory of Kansas in the south, while the remainder was to become the Territory of Nebraska in the north, appropriately changing the name of the legislation to the Kansas-Nebraska Bill.  While his Northern critics charged that he had given in to Southern interests, Johannsen argued that the changes were made by Douglas in response to more pragmatic and political concerns, more immediate to the securing of votes for its passage, for Farnum was scheduled to reach the Mississippi within a month, with the bridge then already under construction, and was about to begin laying tracks through Iowa. 

Maps of the U.S. in 1854 due to the Kansas-Nebraska Act.

The debate in both houses was long and intense, but eventually Douglas rammed through the Kansas-Nebraska Act over the objections of Northern abolitionists, including Douglas’ long-time Democrat ally John Wentworth, with President Pierce signing it into law on May 30, 1854.  Southerners got a territory north of the Compromise of 1820 36° 30’ line where slavery could be approved in a vote by its residents, and for the cost of what was to become “Bleeding Kansas,” Douglas got a territorial government in Nebraska that could eventually charter the next link in Chicago’s railroad to the Pacific.  The price for Douglas’ blind ambition for Chicago’s railroad to the west had been the de facto removal of the thirty-four-year-old ban on slavery in the Louisiana Territory north of the 36° 30’ parallel.

To Douglas’ credit, he believed that “geography and climate” would prove to be a natural limiting factor in the northern extension of slavery (short staple cotton required a minimum of 200 frost-free days) and had no doubt that he had snookered the Southerners (that history has proven to be true).  Unfortunately for his immediate political ambitions, the more ideologically opposed to slavery “Free-Soiler” Northern abolitionists took Douglas’ tacit approval of the extension of slavery and foisted him on his own petard.  His abandonment of the Missouri Compromise reignited the abolitionist sentiment of the Free-Soilers of 1848 and was directly responsible for the formation of the Republican Party later that year.  In anticipation of the passage of the Kansas-Nebraska Act, a group opposed to the extension of slavery had actually met on March 20, 1854, in Ripon, WI, where the name “Republican Party” was first mentioned. Following the final passage of the Kansas-Nebraska Act, the name was formalized at the party’s first convention in Jackson, MI, on July 6.  Beyond Douglas’ long-term presidential ambitions, however, as many of his former Chicago supporters, including Ogden, Wentworth, and Judd, abandoned the Democratic party and joined the new “Anti-Nebraska” Republican Party, the more immediate cost of the extension of Chicago’s transcontinental railroad toward the Nebraska territory would be the bloodshed in Kansas up to the start of the Civil War, that included at least 55 deaths, and the pillaging of the town of Lawrence on May 21, 1856.  

Map of western railroads as of 1860. Leaving Chicago, the northernest line in Illinois is the Rock Island; the second is the Burlington. (Online)

Meanwhile, all Douglas had to do to continue assisting the construction of the northern route once the Kansas-Nebraska Act had been signed by Pres. Pierce, was to indefinitely stretch out the decision process over the transcontinental railroad in Congress as increased Sectional bickering prevented any financial support of the start of construction of any of the five routes.  This played directly into the hands of Chicago’s railroad builders, for there were three private companies in 1856, the Chicago & Rock Island, the Galena & Chicago Union, and the Chicago, Burlington, & Quincy, that were furiously continuing what Ogden had started back in the summer of 1848, that is, laying their tracks west to the Pacific.  Left to their own devices, these companies following the signing of the Kansas/Nebraska Act would eventually be able to now build the transcontinental railroad into Nebraska without any further interference from Southern politicians.  Farnum’s Rock Island had been the first to reach the Mississippi on Feb. 2, 1854, with its bridge being completed on April 21, 1856.

Henry Farnam, Rock Island Railroad Bridge over the Mississippi River at Rock Island, 1853-6. The bridge comprised of wood and iron trusses that were 250’ in length, except the swing section that was 285’ in length. This swung around a central pier that left a 120’ clear channel on either side. (Pfeiffer, Bridging the Mississippi)

Meanwhile during the debate over the Nebraska Territory, Sec. Davis had finally received the reports from the survey teams studying the four potential routes that Congress had requested in 1853.  Unfortunately, each one had its own negatives with the result that none had risen to the top of the list based solely on its scientific or financial merits, tossing the decision back into the political arena of Congress.  Nonetheless, Davis published a three-volume summary of the surveys in the summer of 1855 that helped to frame the future debate over the issue.  In August 1856, the House Select Committee on the Pacific Railroad and Telegraph distributed a report that stated the obvious:

“The necessity that now exists for constructing lines of railroad and telegraphic communication between the Atlantic and Pacific coasts of this continent is no longer a question for argument; it is conceded by every one. In order to maintain our present position on the Pacific, we must have some more speedy and direct means of intercourse than is at present afforded by the route through the possessions of a foreign power.”

While there was agreement about the necessity for such a railroad, it was the actual decision over which route it should take that continued to be unresolved by the stalemate in Congress, that would continue to play to Chicago’s advantage. Its railroads continued to lay tracks westward…


Andreas, Alfred T. History of Chicago- vols. 1&2. Chicago, 1884-1886. Reprint, New York: Arno Press, 1975.

Borneman, Walter R., Iron Horses: America’s Race to Bring the Railroad West, New York: Back Bay, 2010.

Catton, Bruce, The Civil War, Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1960.

Galloway, John Debo. The First Transcontinental Railroad. New York: Simmons-Broadway, 1950.

Karamanski, Theodore J. Rally ‘Round the Flag: Chicago and the Civil War, Chicago: Nelson-Hall, 1993.

Johannsen, Robert W. Stephen A. Douglas, New York: Oxford, 1973.

Mueller, Ken S.  Senator Benton and the People. Dekalb: Northern Illinois University, 2014.

Pfeiffer, David A., “Bridging the Mississippi: The Railroads and Steamboats Clash at the Rock Island Bridge,” Prologue Magazine, Summer 2004.

“Report of the House Select Committee on the Pacific Railroad and Telegraph,” U.S. House of Representatives, 36th Congress, 1st Session, No. 358, August 16, 1856.

(If you have any questions or suggestions, please feel free to eMail me at: thearchitectureprofessor@gmail.com)


While Douglas was working out the series of bills that comprised the Compromise of 1850 as well as the IC deal in Congress during the summer of 1850, he also had to keep on top of the transcontinental railroad issue.  There was one roadblock to be overcome if Chicago’s planned transcontinental railroad was to continue construction once it reached the Missouri River at Council Bluffs that the Illinois Legislature had little say in, but the approval of Southern politicians in Congress would be critical for this hurdle to be passed: as of 1853, there still remained the vast unorganized territory of “Nebraska” west of the Missouri River that was still in the titular possession of the Native tribes, that needed to be breeched, legally and physically, by any transcontinental line in the North.  

Map of the U.S. in 1853 prior to the Kansas-Nebraska Act

Whether Douglas realized it or not during the heady days of his successes in September 1850 that were capped by the approval of the IC bill, he had actually been outflanked by the Southerners with the passage of the first of the Compromise bills on Sept. 9, that formed the Territory of New Mexico. This territory now physically linked Texas to California with a contiguous land route that was solely under the jurisdiction of the U.S. that removed the final legal and physical impediment to the approval of a southern route for the transcontinental railroad, for the New Mexico territorial government could finally grant a legal charter to a railroad company to build through its territory on its way to the Pacific.  At the same time, Southern Democratic Senators, who held the majority in the Senate, had continued to prevent the farther extension of a northern route by opposing the formation of the Nebraska territory as one that was free from slavery, even though the Missouri Compromise of 1820 had seemingly guaranteed this provision.

During the two years that followed the passage of the 1850 Compromise, Douglas and his supporters, therefore, saw the transcontinental railroad’s momentum swing in the favor of the South, while Sen. Benton’s central route through the border states along the 39° parallel (the Cincinnati/St. Louis route) lay in the background as a compromise that both sides might eventually accept.   Much of the southern route had already been surveyed by the U.S. Corps of Topographical Engineers following the end of the Mexican-American War while they were engaged in determining the exact location of the new border.  While a feasible route in the newly acquired Mexican territory was eventually determined, an even geographically better route was found in the southern watershed of the Gila River along the 32° parallel that was still in Mexico, providing the motivation for the Southerners’ push to pass Federal funding to construct this route.

In January 1853, Texas Sen. Thomas Jefferson Rusk, intending to hold the nation’s two Sections together introduced a bill calling for the construction of two railroads, a northern one and a southern one.  Rusk’s bill would have given the President the authority to choose the roues and the contractors.  The South, however, was so divided on the issue that the bill got nowhere.  Hoping to avoid any further Sectional bickering on the issue by “substitut[ing] the impartial judgment of science for the passions of the politicos and promoters,” California Senator William Gwin, a supporter of the southern route, and Sen. Salmon P. Chase of Ohio, a northern supporter, submitted a rather innocuous amendment to an Army Appropriation Bill, that Pres. Fillmore signed as one of his last formal acts in office on March 3, 1853, that directed the Secretary of War “to Ascertain the Most Practical and Economical Route for a Railroad From the Mississippi River to the Pacific Ocean.”  To supporters of the Northern route, the amendment was a godsend in that it slowed the momentum behind the Southern route, while giving the Chicago roads more time to lay tracks to the west.  

Democrat Franklin Pierce was inaugurated the next day as President.  While being from New Hampshire he was no friend of the Abolitionists, and in order to give his cabinet some Sectional balance as an attempt to maintain national unity, had named Jefferson Davis to be Secretary of War, therefore, it fell to Davis to enact the surveys.  Davis was from Mississippi and naturally favored the southernmost route along the 32° parallel from New Orleans through Texas, as it was the shortest in length as well as it would not have to contend with winter snows.  To coordinate the surveys, he appointed a close personal friend, Maj. William H. Emory, who also was an advocate for the 32° parallel because he had actually led a survey of it after the end of the war.  Davis initially authorized four surveys:

1. starting at Fort Snelling (today’s St. Paul), a route that followed the 48° parallel to Puget Sound,

2. starting at St. Louis, a route between the 40° and 38° parallels to San Francisco,

3. starting at Ft. Smith, AR, on the Arkansas River, a route that followed the 35° parallel to Los Angeles,

4. explorations in southern California between the 35° and 32° parallels to search for passes through the Sierra Madre Mountains.

Surveyed Routes for the Transcontinental Railroad. In March 1853, Congress appropriated $150,000 to survey four possible routes. Those are shown with the names of the surveyor in charge. The actual route used with the Act of 1862, started from Council Bluffs/Omaha and was surveyed by Grenville Dodge, was not even considered in the 1853 survey, but is included on this map. (Time-Life, Old West Railroads)

The surveying teams were given one year to complete their tasks by the first Monday in February 1854.  Conspicuous by its absence was Davis’ favored route along the 32° parallel. Undoubtedly, its survey was postponed because some of the route traversed land still owned by Mexico.  Curiously, Davis had completely ignored the route from Omaha along the 42° parallel that Chicago’s roads were building at that precise moment. 

Meanwhile, Sen. Douglas’s beloved wife, Martha, had died after childbirth in January 1853 and believing that the time-consuming surveys had bought himself another year to resolve the Nebraska issue (while at the same time buying more time to allow Chicago’s railroads to continue to lay tracks to the Mississippi), Douglas took a well-deserved break with a far-flung tour of Europe during the summer of 1853 (whose timing coincided with that of Ogden’s trip).  During this time, Farnum was closing in on the Mississippi with the Rock Island’s tracks and had already chartered the next link in Chicago’s transcontinental railroad, the Mississippi & Missouri, to build through Iowa west of the Mississippi from Davenport, IA, on the shore opposite from Rock Island to Council Bluffs.  While Farnum also served as the President of the new M&M, Ogden, who was no longer President of the G&CU, had agreed to serve as its Vice-President and Norman Judd was made a Director in addition to being its corporate attorney.  On July 16, 1853, some six months before the C&RI’s tracks were completed to the river, Farnum had commenced construction at Rock Island of the first bridge over the Mississippi in order to connect the C&RI with the planned route through Iowa.  

Henry Farnam, Rock Island Railroad Bridge over the Mississippi River at Rock Island, 1853-6. The bridge comprised of wood and iron trusses that were 250’ in length, except the swing section that was 285’ in length. This swung around a central pier that left a 120’ clear channel on either side. (Pfeiffer, Bridging the Mississippi)

Rock Island had first been chosen as the best location to bridge the Mississippi by William Redfield in 1830 because its location in the river would shorten the span of the bridge needed to cross the river. Because the boundary between Illinois and Iowa was located at the center of the main channel between the island and the Iowa shore, neither the Rock Island’s charter nor that of the M&M had granted either company the authority to build a bridge that extended into the other’s state, therefore, a new company, the Rock Island Railroad Bridge Company was chartered by the Illinois Legislature in 1853 to “build, maintain, and use” the bridge. Norman Judd was strategically (as will soon be revealed) named the President of the company, while Farnum took no chances with the design of the bridge as he designed it himself.  It comprised of three parts: a bridge over the slough between the Illinois shore and the island, a short line of tracks on the island itself, and the bridge over the main branch of the river between the island and the Iowa shore that would be completed on April 21, 1856.

By that date, however, the national political situation had so deteriorated from what it was when the bridge’s construction began in July 1853, that the bridge’s construction over the Mississippi seemed like an apt metaphor for the internal conflict that had erupted throughout the country, including Chicago.  The Federal government still owned the island itself, even though Fort Armstrong had been abandoned since 1845, so Farnum was legally obliged to apply for a grant of land along his proposed right-of-way.  Farnum’s request was received by Secretary of War Davis, who attempted to stall the northern route by “studying the merits” of Farnum’s proposal without reaching any conclusion during which time the four transcontinental surveys were in the field.  In good Chicago “I will” fashion, Farnum eventually decided unilaterally to begin construction with or without Davis’ approval. Meanwhile, Davis and Pres. Pierce had initiated their own unilateral efforts to move forward, ignoring Northern Congressional resistance, on the 32° parallel route.  Pierce appointed James Gadsden, who had just recently stepped down as the president of the South Carolina Railroad, where he had been a leading advocate for John C. Calhoun’s (who had died in 1850) Southern transcontinental railroad, as the new U.S. Minister to Mexico and tasked him with the duty to negotiate the purchase of the land south of the Gila River from Mexico, needed to construct the better of the southern routes. Anticipating a successful conclusion to these negotiations, Davis in October 1853 had then sent two surveying parties to survey this route to make up for lost time so that this route could also be included in his final report.  The race was on between Farnum, who was building the bridge over the Mississippi for the Chicago route that Davis had purposefully ignored in the transcontinental railroad surveys, while Davis himself had his survey teams laying out the Southern route along the Gila River.


Andreas, Alfred T. History of Chicago- vols. 1&2. Chicago, 1884-1886. Reprint, New York: Arno Press, 1975.

Borneman, Walter R., Iron Horses: America’s Race to Bring the Railroad West, New York: Back Bay, 2010.

Johannsen, Robert W. Stephen A. Douglas, New York: Oxford, 1973.

Milton, George Fort. The Eve of Conflict: Stephen A. Douglas and the Needless War. New York: Octagon, 1969.

Pfeiffer, David A., “Bridging the Mississippi: The Railroads and Steamboats Clash at the Rock Island Bridge,” Prologue Magazine, Summer 2004.

(If you have any questions or suggestions, please feel free to eMail me at: thearchitectureprofessor@gmail.com)


A convenient connection for its passengers, however, was not the primary concern in the IC’s final choice of the lakefront route into the Loop, for this route led directly to the mouth of the Chicago River, the heart of Chicago’s commerce, that provided important commercial connections for the two main products of the NorthWest: meat and wheat.  Chicago’s meat-packing industry had grown as rapidly as had the city’s grain trade, leaving the city’s packers with little or no facilities for storing livestock.  The first makeshift cattleyard, the “Bulls Head,” appeared in 1848 at the corner of Madison and Ashland Streets.  This location, however, proved to be very inconvenient for dealers in getting their animals to the city’s various slaughterhouses that were dispersed throughout the city. This problem was greatly compounded with the arrival of the railroads, that not only brought livestock to Chicago for slaughter, but now could also ship livestock to the East, thereby extending the freshness of meat shipped since it would no longer need to be preserved in salt before it was shipped over land.  John B. Sherman, a livestock trader originally from central New York who had recently moved to Illinois with his cousin, Samuel Allerton, was the first to understand what the railroad could do for the meat-packing industry.  He purchased the old Myrick property near the lakefront between 29th and 31st Streets, and commenced laying out Chicago’s first stockyard.  It was no mere coincidence, then, that as the Illinois Central tracks made their way into the center of town, they were laid immediately adjacent to the Sherman yards to facilitate the transfer of animals.

Map of Chicago showing the proximity of John Sherman’s Myrick and Cottage Grove Stockyards to the new IC tracks.

There was also not a more efficient location in Chicago to store harvested wheat for eventual transfer to a lake vessel than the site of Fort Dearborn at the junction of the river and Lake Michigan. In 1855, Solomon Sturges and his two brothers-in-law, C.P. and Alvah Buckingham formed Sturges, Buckingham & Co. to build the city’s largest grain elevator adjacent to the IC station. The following year a second monster structure was constructed immediately to the east of the first one.  These were best described by the Democratic Press:

“The buildings are one hundred and three by two hundred and four feet, and one hundred and twenty feet high.  In the operation of the machinery the grain is elevated one hundred and twenty-eight feet.  The cost of the buildings complete will be about $200,000 each… The brick walls are bound together by massive bolts only a few feet apart, and to give some idea of the amount of timber used, we state that twenty-nine ship loads were used during last summer in the construction of the building now being completed.  Two hundred and thirty-six car loads of grain were unloaded by one of the houses last summer in one day, and the amount of grain handled was between eighty and ninety thousand bushels.  It is safe to say that each house can handle a hundred thousand bushels per day.”

Upper: The Sturges & Buckingham Elevators A and B, 1856. View is from the lake, southeast of the elevators. Note the open doors at either side into which went the railroad cars. Lower: The IC complex with the Elevators in the Background, looking northeast from Michigan and Randolph. (Wade and Meyer, Chicago: Growth of a Metropolis)


Andreas, Alfred T. History of Chicago- vols. 1&2. Chicago, 1884-1886. Reprint, New York: Arno Press, 1975.

Buckingham, Ebenezer. Solomon Sturges and his descendants; a memoir and a genealogy. New York: Grafton Press, 1907.

Chapman, Frederic William. The Buckingham Family; Or the Descendants of Thomas Buckingham, One of the First Settlers of Milford, Conn. Hartford: Case, 1872.

Wing, Jack. The Great Union Stock Yards, Chicago, 1865.

(If you have any questions or suggestions, please feel free to eMail me at: thearchitectureprofessor@gmail.com)


Otto Matz, the Illinois Central Station, S. Water Street Elevation, 1855. (Jevni & Almini, Chicago Illustrated)

The timing of the announcement of such an extravagant building, in that it came after Robert Schuyler, who on July 11, 1853, had passed the presidency of the IC on to William Burrall, and had also resigned as the president of the NY&NH on July 4, 1854, immediately once his sale of $2 million fraudulent, unauthorized NY&NH stock was uncovered, indicates not only a change of management policy pertaining to the quality of the IC’s construction, but also to a directed public relations campaign designed to restore confidence in the post-Schuyler IC. Schuyler had resigned from the IC, more than likely, following the worst train accident of the decade.  On May 6, 1853, an eastbound NY&NH morning express ran through an open drawbridge at South Norwalk, CT, killing 46 passengers.  Schuyler was also the president of this company at this time and probably felt he needed to focus on the resolution of this disaster, resigning from the IC within two months of the accident.  The railroad eventually would end up paying over $500,000 in damages.  

This may have been the reason that within five months of the accident, Schuyler had started to issue fake stock certificates in the NY&NH, as he was its Transfer Agent as well as its President, using three sets of accounting books in order to enable him to pocket every penny.  His fraud was caught by chance, after he had been taken ill on June 29, 1854, and was out of the office when a number of fraudulent certificates were innocently presented for transfer.   The Vice-President was, therefore called in to act as Transfer Agent, who needed to see the books to affect the transfer.   The following day Schuyler matter-of-factly resigned from the NY&NH, never to be seen again in the U.S. This was the first-time fraud of this magnitude had hit Wall Street, and although he had resigned from the IC the previous year, guilt through association once Schuyler’s fraud was publicized, resulted in the IC’s stock declining more than 40 points and its bonds dropping on the market to sixty-three.  The IC was forced to sell its last $4.5 million construction bonds at 35% under par (a loss of $1.55 million), in order to continue its construction and to meet its interest payments. In the face of this economic disaster, the erection of such a magnificent edifice at the mouth of the river speaks to a major public relations campaign on the part of the IC to restore public confidence.  Even so, such a costly building could have been afforded at this time by a private company only if it had been subsidized by the Federal government, which was exactly what the landgrant had done.  

The Fort Dearborn Reservation and the IC Railroad Station. (upper) Before construction of the station: landfill almost completed with a temporary station at the foot of S. Water St. (bottom) After the construction of the station. (Chicago Historical Society)

The IC had achieved a major real estate coup with the acquisition of the prime lakefront property that Fort Dearborn had once occupied that had managed to elude private ownership since the founding of the town in exchange for the initial capital outlay of the breakwater. The station was designed in 1854 by the company’s architect Otto Matz.  Matz had been born in Berlin in 1830, where he had completed the traditional polytechnic training for architecture.  He had immigrated to the U.S. where he was hired in 1853 by the IC and assigned to Mason’s engineering corps.  He had risen to the position of company architect upon the death of his predecessor, just prior to the start of the design of the Chicago terminal that was to be erected at the foot of South Water Street, depositing passengers conveniently at the eastern edge of the Lake Street business district.  

Otto Matz, the Illinois Central Station, 1855. View from the south, approaching the Train Shed. (Douglas, Rail City: Chicago, USA)

The train shed was the longest clear spanned space in the U.S. when it was completed.  Matz employed arched iron-lattice trusses that spanned 166’ and rose 42’ from the ground.  (This structure’s span was second in the world only to the recently completed 211’ span of New Street Station in Birmingham, U.K.) To the north of the train shed, Matz placed the freight house, in which the company’s offices were housed on the top floor. So while the MS had won the race into the city, Common Council had kept its station at the far southern edge of the business district; the MC and the IC, with a little help from its friends Sen. Douglas, Rep. Wentworth, and the new aldermen elected in the municipal election of March 2, 1852, were allowed to lay tracks directly to the mouth of the river and to the foot of the city’s commercial center, Lake Street.  Nonetheless, Common Council, with the assistance of the trestle in the lake, had still managed to keep the IC’s locomotives out of the streets of the business district, while getting the IC to pay for the breakwater that reduced the erosion along Michigan Avenue.

Richmond House, northwest corner of S. Water and Michigan, 1856. (Gilbert, Chicago and Its Makers)

Accompanying the erection of the IC station was the construction of a covey of hotels immediately to the west of the station to provide the railroad’s arriving passengers with appropriate accommodations.  The first constructed was the Richmond House, a six-story hotel located on the northwest corner of S. Water and Michigan.  The Massasoit House was constructed the following year one block farther south on Michigan Avenue at the northeast corner of Lake and Michigan. The Adams House was built in 1858 on the corner of S. Water and Central (now Beaubien Ct.).

Massasoit House, southwest corner of S. Water and Central (now Beaubien Ct), 1857. The view is taken in 1863 looking west down S. Water Street, with the Richmond House, the tallest building across from the Massasoit House. The north face of the IC Station is at the far left. Looking west down S. Water Street. (Chicagology)
W.W. Boyington, Adams House (far right), northeast corner of Lake and Michigan, 1858. Looking west sown Lake Street. (Gilbert, Chicago and Its Makers)


Ackerman, W.K., History of the Illinois Central Railroad Company and Representative Employees, Railroad Historical Company, 1900.

Andreas, Alfred T. History of Chicago- vols. 1&2. Chicago, 1884-1886. Reprint, New York: Arno Press, 1975.

Brownson, Howard Gray. History of the Illinois Central Railroad to 1870. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1915.

Harlow, Alvin F. Steelways of New England. New York: Creative Age Press, 1946.

Johnson, Arthur and Barry E. Supple. Boston Capitalists and the Western Railroads. Cambridge:     Harvard University Press, 1967.

Mahler, Michael, “Robert Schuyler’s Stock Fraud on the New York and New Haven Rail Road: the Paper Trail,” 2009.

Meeks, Carroll L.V., The Railroad Station, New York: Dover, 1995.

Pierce, Bessie Louis. A History of Chicago– 2. New York: Knopf.  1940.

Stover, John F. History of the Illinois Central Railroad. New York: Macmillan, 1975.

(If you have any questions or suggestions, please feel free to eMail me at: thearchitectureprofessor@gmail.com)


The Illinois Central Complex, looking southwest from the station. Note the construction of the breakwater: a timber crib filled with large stones. (Jevni & Almini, Chicago Illustrated)
The Illinois Central’s Trestle in Lake Michigan. This is the funeral train that carried Abraham Lincoln’s body back to Springfield parked on the IC trestle during the memorial service at City Hall on May 2, 1865. (Kogan and Wendt, Chicago: A Pictorial History)

On May 21, 1852, the MC’s route was completed to the city limits and the first MC construction train pulled into a temporary depot on the lakeshore, south of 22th Street.  For this to have occurred, the IC would have obviously had to purchase the 200’ wide right-of-way along the lakefront from 35th to 22nd from Douglas that it did for the handsome sum of $21,310.  However, construction had halted here because the city still had not yet approved the railroad’s conditions in its petition for permission to build tracks within the city limits.  Eventually enough council votes were procured so that a veto-proof majority approved the IC proposal on June 14, 1852, giving the IC the right-of-way to place its tracks in Lake Michigan.  

In September 1852, construction commenced at 12th Street, where a temporary depot had been constructed in the meanwhile on the southeast corner of Michigan and 13th, of the IC’s breakwater that consisted of a twelve-foot-wide timber crib, made with 12x12s laid horizontally upon one another, that was filled with stone and kept in place with timber piles driven into the lakebed at ten-foot intervals.   This preceded the erection of the timber trestle in the lake, upon which the tracks would take the trains to their final destination at the mouth of the river.  Therefore, while the city got the breakwater that would slow down the erosion of the lakefront along Michigan Avenue and also created a lagoon that at times provided quite pleasant recreation, and at other times, was the repository for the rotting carcasses of dead animals, the railroad for its initial expenses of the breakwater and trestle got the free and unencumbered use of the lakefront that it needed to bring its trains to the mouth of the river, next to the site of old Fort Dearborn.  

The Fort Dearborn Reservation and the IC Railroad Station. (Above) Before construction of the station: landfill almost completed with a temporary station at the foot of S. Water St. (Below) After the construction of the station. (Chicago Historical Society)

In the meantime, the IC had also finally managed to acquire the fort’s reservation from the Federal government on October 14, 1852, for the relatively inconsequential sum of $45,000.  (Thus began the long-standing litigation between the IC and the city over this land.  The IC argued that the fort’s reservation was to be included in the original Federal landgrant bill.  As the Fort Dearborn land was under the jurisdiction of the General Land Office, Chicago lawyer Justin Butterfield, who had been appointed by Whig Pres. Taylor as its Commissioner, somewhat surprisingly rejected this interpretation of Democrat Douglas’ IC landgrant bill.  However, Butterfield suffered a stroke and was replaced in Sept. 1852 with a more “sympathetic” individual who approved the sale of reservation to the IC for the “compromise sum.”  Douglas and Wentworth had smoothed the route of the IC once again.  Nonetheless, the IC would continue to litigate the issue during the foreseeable future.) The purchase agreement also allowed the company to extend its breakwater north of Randolph another 775′ farther east into Lake Michigan, that when backfilled, gave the railroad a very large tract of land upon which to build.  The IC Station to be built here was planned to be not only one of the nation’s largest, dwarfing that of the MS’s, but also, at a cost of a quarter of a million dollars, one of its most expensive stations. 

The Illinois Central Complex, 1858. Looking northeast from Michigan Avenue. (Jevni & Almini, Chicago Illustrated)
Otto Matz, the Illinois Central Station, S. Water Street Elevation, 1855. (Jevni & Almini, Chicago Illustrated)


Andreas, Alfred T. History of Chicago- vols. 1&2. Chicago, 1884-1886. Reprint, New York: Arno Press, 1975.

Brownson, Howard Gray. History of the Illinois Central Railroad to 1870. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1915.

Ericsson, Henry L. Sixty Years a Builder: The Autobiography of Henry Ericsson. Chicago: A. Kroch,    1942.

Harlow, Alvin F. The Road of the Century. New York: Creative Age Press, 1947.

Lewis, Lloyd and Henry Justin Smith. Chicago: The History of its Reputation.  New York: Blue Ribbon, 1929.

Pierce, Bessie Louis. A History of Chicago– 2. New York: Knopf.  1940.

Wille, Lois. Forever Open, Clear, and Free; The Struggle For Chicago’s Lakefront. Chicago: Regnery, 1972.

Young, David M. The Iron Horse and the Windy City. DeKalb: Northern Illinois University Press, 2005.

(If you have any questions or suggestions, please feel free to eMail me at: thearchitectureprofessor@gmail.com)


These demands by the movers and shakers who lived in the South, however, fell on deaf ears across the river in the city’s North and West Divisions, whose residents had no stomach for paying the higher taxes needed to protect what they saw as the private investments of whom they already considered to be some of Chicago’s richest families.  This sectional jealousy played right into the hands of the IC that was looking for a way to politically circumvent the covenant protecting the lakeshore.  While the covenant strictly declared that no building or obstruction could be built on the ground along the lakefront, no one in 1836 had conceived that there would ever be any need for anyone to propose to build anything in the lake, away from the lakefront.  Although such an idea ran counter to the spirit of the covenant, there seemed to be no legal prohibition of construction in the lake.  Therefore, on October 16, 1851, the IC eventually proposed to council to do just that: to build a trestle in the lake to carry their tracks from 12th Street to the Fort Dearborn reservation: the “lakefront” would not be built upon, thereby respecting the letter of the covenant.  The proposal would have the added advantage for the IC of not requiring any private land to be purchased within the city limits at inflated values, although this savings would be somewhat offset by the cost of constructing the trestle (which needed to be built anyway because the land was so marshy due to its proximity to the lake).  To sweeten the pot for Common Council, the IC volunteered to build the breakwater needed to stop the erosion along Michigan Avenue (that would be needed anyway for the construction of the trestle).  All that the railroad asked for in return was to be able to place its trestle and puffing locomotives in the lake, directly in front of the majestic, unbroken view of Lake Michigan that the Michigan Avenue residents had understood was to remain forever unobstructed when they had originally purchased their property.  But this restriction of no buildings along the lakefront pertained only as far south as 12th Street; the trains still had to be able to make their way on land up to this point, and here is where Stephen Douglas’ real estate foresight and political clout became manifest.

Councilmen from the North and West Divisions were obviously inclined to vote in favor of the proposal, taking the bait of the solution offered to the erosion problem without the need of raising and expending any public funds.  This solution would also have the added benefit of causing no interruption whatsoever to the business district’s street traffic (the argument that Council had used to defend its decision to keep the MS’s terminal farther to the south at Van Buren).  The city’s elite who resided along S. Michigan Avenue, including Norman Judd, the attorney for the Michigan Southern, however, were incredulous that anyone could even consider the idea that the “city’s” view of the lake could be so irreparably disfigured by the interests of a private company.  The IC, however, had its own powerful and influential friends that came to the support of the proposal.  Rep. Wentworth, who was also the publisher of the Daily Democrat,owned a fortieth of the IC’s stock, but the one who obviously stood to cash in big time if the IC’s proposal was approved was Douglas.  Therefore, two of Chicago’s most powerful political celebrities had very significant personal financial stakes in the IC’s lakefront proposal.  Douglas did all he could to help the cause and Wentworth printed daily editorials supporting the issue, quoting the same arguments he had used so successfully in Washington a year earlier: the railroad would bring fresher produce, more jobs, and economic growth.  In addition, the proposed lakefront entry would solve the lakefront erosion problem at no cost to the taxpayers. 

To generate enthusiasm and muster support, the IC held simultaneous groundbreaking ceremonies in Chicago and Cairo on December 23, 1851.  This action also complied with the letter of its charter requiring construction to begin by January 1, 1852, even though it had no practical value, for Roswell Mason had yet to complete his estimate in order to invite bids by contractors.  The staged construction ceremonies were simply a symbolic public relations event, meant to sway the minds of Chicago’s citizens and their reluctant council representatives.  The interests of the North and West (and those of Douglas and Wentworth) prevailed and on December 29, 1851, Council approved with a vote of 10-6, an ordinance that gave the IC a tract of land in the lake defined as a 300′ width that ran from Randolph to 22nd Street.  In order to avoid any conflict with the lakefront covenant, the closest edge of the IC property was located 400′ east of the west side of Michigan Avenue.  The battle then grew more intense as Mayor Gurnee vetoed the ordinance two days later, offering the specious defense that he was trying to prevent the two lines from forging a bypass of Chicago altogether.  In reality, politics in Chicago are seldom this straightforward, and indeed, this proved to be the case with the IC tracks.  Mayor Gurnee happened to be one of the city’s powerbrokers who resided on S. Michigan Avenue, on the southwest corner of Michigan and Monroe, and his neighbors were those who had bought their lots because of the guaranteed unobstructed view of Lake Michigan.  His action might not have been appreciated across the river, but City Hall was in the South Division, and at least when he walked home along Michigan Avenue, his neighbors would still talk to him.  However, cries of sell-out to the rich rose from those across the river, while those with financial ties to the IC and MC, including Douglas and Wentworth, accused Gurnee of being in league with his neighbor, Judd’s MS.  Whether or not he was financially involved in the decision, it must be admitted that his veto threw another roadblock into the path of the MC, giving the MS more time to complete its tracks into the city.

Following the New Year’s holiday, Common Council overrode the veto on January 2, 1852, and the resolution was sent to the IC management in New York for its final approval.  Schuyler accepted the offer and sent word to Mason to commence work on the line into Chicago from Lake Calumet to where the MC had illegally built (at its own cost), as soon as the weather would permit.  During the time it took the resolution to get to New York, however, Chicago’s leaders had undergone a change in heart and three days later, on January 5, had voted a compromise proposal that was not as favorable to the IC, but satisfied the concerns of the south side and the mayor.  When word of the change reached New York, the IC management simply chose to ignore it, assuming that its own supporters would eventually succeed in getting what the company wanted but told Mason to stand down in the meanwhile.  Forbes was so frustrated by the IC’s inaction that he was forced to capitulate and sign a second, albeit secret agreement with the IC on February 7, 1852, in which the IC agreed to complete the Chicago branch, connecting with the track that Forbes had illegally built in Illinois toward Joliet, while Forbes grudgingly agreed to quietly buy $2,000,000 more of IC bonds to help finance the construction of the IC line south of Chicago to Centralia.

The Routes into Chicago of the Michigan Southern, the Michigan Central, the Rock Island, and the Illinois Central: 1851-56. You can follow the tracks of the MS as they hug the lakefront until they hit the Illinois border. At this point Farnam kept going straight, veering away from the lakefront until at Englewood, he was directly in line with La Salle Street. He then laid tracks north to the south side of Jackson Street. He had built a defensive ring around the downtown, hoping to force the MC/IC to enter downtown on the western side of the south branch. The IC had other plans, however, that forced the railroad to breech the MS tracks somewhere in order to reach the lakefront. This intersection quickly became known as Grand Crossing, site of a number of accidents.

While all this bickering was taking place, Farnam had continued laying track towards Chicago, with the first MS train arriving at the city limits on February 20, 1852.  Eleven days later, on March 2, (the MC was forced to wait another agonizing two months) the municipal election became a plebiscite on the IC lakefront proposal.  Although Mayor Gurnee was re-elected, the council elected was more favorable to letting the railroad pay for the breakwater.  Thus, the IC felt comfortable that it could finally start construction without worrying that Common Council would throw another wrench into its plans and on March 15, Mason wasted no time in telling his Chicago superintendent to immediately advertise for construction bids on the portion of the track that started at Kensington where the MC tracks had stopped in Illinois.  Meanwhile, the MC finally began construction of its track from Kensington towards Chicago’s southern border. The MS attempted to further stall its completion, however, by denying a request by the MC to construct a crossing through the defensive perimeter of the MS’s tracks around the Loop, requiring instead the construction of an expensive and time-consuming overpass. To enforce its intention, the MS posted guards along its track in the suspected area of intersection.  This maneuver proved to be inconsequential, for one night an MC crew overpowered an MS guard and by morning a new crossing had breached the MS’s tracks at 76th and Woodlawn. This location would become known as Grand Crossing, scene of many close encounters between locomotives of the rival companies.  

Grand Crossing, 76th and Woodlawn, Chicago. (Chicagology)


Andreas, Alfred T. History of Chicago- vols. 1&2. Chicago, 1884-1886. Reprint, New York: Arno Press, 1975.

Brownson, Howard Gray. History of the Illinois Central Railroad to 1870. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1915.

Gilbert, Paul T., and Charles L. Bryson. Chicago and Its Makers. Chicago: F. Mendelsohn, 1929.

Harlow, Alvin F. The Road of the Century. New York: Creative Age Press, 1947.

Johnson, Arthur and Barry E. Supple. Boston Capitalists and the Western Railroads. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1967.

Mack, Edwin F. Old Monroe Street: Notes on the Monroe Street of Early Chicago Days. Chicago: Central Trust Company, 1914.

McLellan, David and Bill Warrick. The Lake Shore & Michigan Southern Railway. Polo:Transportation Trails, 1989.

Pierce, Bessie Louis. A History of Chicago– 2. New York: Knopf.  1940.

Wille, Lois. Forever Open, Clear, and Free; The Struggle For Chicago’s Lakefront. Chicago: Regnery, 1972.

Young, David M. The Iron Horse and the Windy City. DeKalb: Northern Illinois University Press, 2005.

(If you have any questions or suggestions, please feel free to eMail me at: thearchitectureprofessor@gmail.com)


Coincidentally, this same piece of property, the lakefront south of the river, was generating discussion in Common Council on a seemingly unrelated issue: erosion of the lakefront and the corresponding problem of the lake’s waters flooding Michigan Avenue during storms and periods of high waves.  Between 1848, when Ogden had started construction of the G&CU and 1852, when the first MS train had pulled into town four years later, the city had nearly doubled in size from 20,023 to 38,733.  Despite two cholera outbreaks, Chicago’s population, now being fed by direct railroad links from the East, continued to grow at its breakneck pace, so that by 1855 Chicago’s size had exploded to 80,023.  With three of every four of the city’s residents having arrived during the past seven years, the population explosion fueled by the railroads was causing a massive reconfiguration of Chicago’s residential pattern.  Providing housing for 60,000 new people in a seven-year period naturally forced a town that could barely accommodate its base of 20,000, to grow outwards if only to provide sufficient horizontal area on which to build the new housing required.  The railroads had also brought a parallel increase in commercial activity to the center of town that also vied for new space to locate and build upon.  As the business district had continued to expand, those who could afford to do so had moved their residences farther away from the center of town.  Demand for properties in the business district and their corresponding values soared, while the increased hustle and bustle of business, with its accompanying noise, filth, and crime, in addition to the new smoke pollution brought on by the introduction of steam-powered tugboats, locomotives, and grain elevators, had had a considerably negative impact on the quiet atmosphere of Chicago’s original residential neighborhoods in the South District, especially those adjacent to the Public Square.  Those who could afford to move farther away from the original heart of the city along the riverfront to quieter areas did so, initiating Chicago’s first wave of urban flight.

The lakefront along S. Michigan Avenue prior to the construction of the IC trestle. (Lake Shore Drive)

A favorite location farther to the south along Michigan Avenue with its unobstructed view of the lake and the local government’s covenant that Lake Park, across the street, would remain “forever free,” had become the choice residential location in the South Division for many of the city’s elite (including Mayor Gurnee, J. Young Scammon, Norman B. Judd, Bishop Duggan, Lt. Gov. Bross, Judge H.T. Dickey, and Philip F.W. Peck), especially those who had a business in the south and did not cherish the inconvenience of waiting to cross one of the city’s bridges. Those who either were not quick enough to snap up a lakefront property, or could not afford the price of one, settled for being close to the lake and its elite residents by settling one block inland on Wabash Street.  The erosion problem that had developed along this stretch of the lakefront that Council was currently debating seems to have been a result of the construction of the north pier at the river’s mouth.  As the pier was being built ever farther into the lake in the ongoing effort to keep the mouth of the river from silting up, there was a corresponding loss of land along the lakefront south of the river, due to the effect that the lengthening of the pier had on the lake’s current.  The increased flooding of Michigan Avenue and the fear that one day they would wake up to find their homes floating in Lake Michigan as the erosion of the lakefront had finally claimed their lot, had the wealthy residents of South Michigan Avenue clamoring for the city government to do something to physically stop the problem and protect their investments.

Map Showing the Accretion of Silt at the river’s north bank between 1833 and 1855. (Holland, Maps in Chicago)


Andreas, Alfred T. History of Chicago- vols. 1&2. Chicago, 1884-1886. Reprint, New York: Arno Press, 1975.

Bluestone, Daniel. Constructing Chicago. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1991.

Pierce, Bessie Louis. A History of Chicago– 2. New York: Knopf.  1940.

Wille, Lois. Forever Open, Clear, and Free; The Struggle For Chicago’s Lakefront. Chicago: Regnery, 1972.

(If you have any questions or suggestions, please feel free to eMail me at: thearchitectureprofessor@gmail.com)