Seattle’s ‘Palace of Trade’: 10,000 Crowd the Rialto’s Opening Night
A Boston-backed department store at Second and Madison threw open four floors of retail spectacle, declaring Seattle had arrived on the Pacific Coast.
The story, cleaned up
A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.
Seattle, following the lead of other equally progressive cities, had a little world’s fair opening of its own at the famous Rialto last evening. The affair was not quite so extensive as that in Chicago, but it was equally choice and attracted as many people comparatively. The event had been eagerly anticipated for some time, and the deep interest manifested in the undertaking by the people of Seattle was best evidenced by the multitude—principally women—that crowded the sidewalk waiting for the opening of the doors, and by the stream of humanity that flowed in and out of the building from 7 o’clock until closing. It was a scene of life, beauty and enterprise that will always mark a new and bright era in the commercial history of Seattle. The great extensive building was almost too small to accommodate the unending crowds that thronged rooms, aisles and stairways; a fair estimate placed the number of people who passed in and out at fully 10,000.
Every floor and every department of the brilliantly lighted place received personal attention, and although many of the departments were as yet incomplete, the intention was clear. The succession of complimentary remarks and criticisms heard on all sides from the women must have been gratifying to the men who formed the Rialto Company, and whose brain, energy and capital had carried to successful completion such a vast and useful enterprise. The moving mass of delighted men, women and children, seen from an elevation, presented an animated scene of kaleidoscopic changes in colors and beauty, enhanced by the music of the Rialto band and the rich and costly fabrics that greeted the eye in every direction.
The exterior along Second Street, bright with lights and colors, presented an equally attractive scene, both sides of the street being crowded with people watching the twelve large plate-glass windows filled with a wonderful aggregation of choice goods, artistically displayed, enhanced by a Ferris wheel in motion, articulated wax figures, stuffed birds and wild animals and many picturesque designs. The twelve show windows facing Second Street were placed in charge of a corps of professional dressers, and the artistic taste displayed in each window—the blending of shades, novelty in designs and general effect—made the exterior attraction almost as interesting as the inside decorations and kept the broad sidewalk crowded with admiring people until the lights were put out.
Inside, the building was divided into more than forty departments. On the top floor were women’s suits, dressmaking, millinery, decorative needlework, art materials, photographic supplies, sewing machines, typewriters, wallpaper, pictures, confectionery, fruits, flowers, cigars and tobacco, musical merchandise, a cafe, barber shop, ladies’ manicure and hairdressing parlors, and the general offices. A handsome waiting and dressing room was provided for women, with telephone and messenger service, checking room and maids in attendance. The basement held storage and shipping rooms, engine rooms and the electric-light plant, while a complete printing office occupied the southeast corner.
The Rialto was described as the largest retail business house west of Chicago and the most thoroughly complete department store in America. It had a frontage of 240 feet by 110 feet deep and four floors for the sale of merchandise. The structure, occupying the block from Madison Street to Spring Street on the west side of Second Street, was erected especially for the concern at a cost of almost $400,000, which, with the enormous stock of merchandise, represented an outlay of more than $1,000,000. The perfecting of the enterprise was said to mark an epoch in the history of trade on the Pacific Coast. The enterprise was first proposed by T. M. Basin, of Seattle, about four years earlier, and was finally presented to Herman Chapin, president of the Boston National Bank of Seattle, and Boston capitalists, who raised the money in May and June 1893—a period remembered as one of the darkest in the great financial panic.
“It was a scene of life, beauty and enterprise that will always mark a new and bright era in the commercial history of Seattle.”
The Rialto stood at Second and Madison, a block now swallowed by downtown office towers and transit. Its opening-night boosterism—‘largest retail house west of Chicago’—is the same civic salesmanship Seattle still uses to announce every new development. The 10,000-person crowd also reminds us that brick-and-mortar retail once functioned as public spectacle.
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