460 



CHICAGO, HORTICULTURALLY. 



Along the lake shore is a ridge of sandy 

 land, and a similar one runs nearly paral- 

 lel to it, at the distance of from seven to 

 nine miles. So much for surface. Now 

 for soil. This consists of a muck, about 

 ten inches or a foot in thickness, of a tex- 

 ture so fine that it would seem to have un- 

 dergone trituration in a mortar, resting on 

 a bed of blue tough clay, capable of being 

 dried in the sun to the hardness of stone. 

 As you approach the lake shore, this stra- 

 tum of clay dips considerably ; and above 

 it, lies a fine calcareous sand, and in pla- 

 ces loam, mingled more or less with shells. 



The lake shore affords a beautiful drain- 

 age, the influence of which is felt to the 

 distance of three or four hundred feet, 

 which, with the warm sand, mingled with 

 the soil, gives vegetation an early and rapid 

 growth in the spring. Of the second ridge, 

 heretofore spoken, the same observation 

 may be made. These are the exceptions. 

 The great bulk of our soil is that first de- 

 scribed. 



You will perceive, then, that our first 

 great want is drainage, both of surface and 

 subsoil. That of the first is easily enough 

 effected, though, for obvious reasons, it 

 cannot be very rapid. That of the second 

 has never been, so far as I am aware, at- 

 tempted. In the city, a sort of compensa- 

 tion for it is effected by " filling up." Much 

 of the old town of Chicago is now from three 

 to five feet higher than it originally was, 

 from this process. The most formidable 

 obstacle, in the way of bottom drainage, is 

 neither our low nor our level soil. It is 

 nothing more nor less than its exceeding 

 fineness ; by which it is packed together, 

 from the bottom upwards, so closely that 

 water can no more escape from it than 

 from a sponge. The successful and uni- 

 versal mingling with it of coarse materials, 

 would alone effect all we want. 



The soil is one difficulty. Another is 

 the climate. Our situation, near the south- 

 western extremity of Lake Michigan, ex- 

 poses us to two dangers ; one is the west 

 wind of winter ; the other is the north wind 

 of spring. The first continues from one to 

 twenty days, though the latter number is 

 seldom reached in succession. During 

 their continuance, the skies wear a face as 

 calm and clear as that of an angel, while 

 their heart is as cold as that of a fiend. 

 The mercury sometimes sinks at this point 

 to 15^ below zero, to 25^ at Rock river, and 

 to 30^ at Galena. The fate of peaches and 

 other delicate fruits may be imagined, from 

 such an ordeal. To these the lake affords 

 us no protection. Sweeping from away 

 westward to the Rocky Mountains, over- 

 land, with no water to soften their ferocity, 

 their bite is as remorseless as that from the 

 fangs of fate. Our neighbors across the 

 lake receive them subdued and tempered 

 by sixty miles of Lake Michigan ; and 

 hence, peaches and apricots are abundant 

 on that border, while we have none. Hap- 

 pily, these winds and this degree of cold 

 are not uniformly to be expected. For five 

 winters past their occurrence has been sel- 

 dom, short, and their temper comparatively 

 mild. I find the mercury at zero but twice 

 in any winter ; and for two out of the five, 

 not there at all. That of 1842 and '43, gave 

 us an almost constant succession of these 

 winds, with the mercury ranging as first 

 indicated. The present season corresponds 

 to that, though a shade milder. The mer- 

 cury has been 11° below zero twice, and 

 once 14°, up to this time. 



Our second difficulty, the north wind, 

 blesses us three-fourths of the year, and 

 blasts us the remainder. From July to 

 March, our pleasant gales are from that 

 direction. They temper the heats of sum- 

 mer, and the colds of winter. They dissi- 



