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HISTORY

GREAT FIRES
Et
CHICAGO AND THE WEST.
A PROUD CAEEER ARRESTED BY SUDDEN AND AWFUL
CALAMITY; TOWNS AND COUNTIES LAID WASTE
BY THE DEVASTATING ELEMENT.
SCENES AJSTD IE'CIDE^TS,
LOSSES AND SUFFERINGS,
B:H__>ra_vo:L.:E_:N-c_-__ of tbch na-tions, Etc.. .mo.
WITH A
Tf? if) ifi & 1& A
fetori) of ilw ||ise and Progress of Wutago, iltc "f|o-mg fent"
To 10/t/cA is appended a Record of the Great Fires in the past
By Eev. E. J. GOODSPEED, D.D.,

OP CHICAGO.

ILLUSTRATED.

SOLID OUSTX/H" 333T STT.-ESCI2.I_PTZO_I5r.

grew SJarft :
H. S. GOODSPEED & CO., 37 P.vrk Row, New York.
J. W. GOODSPEED, Ciiicago, Cincinnati, St. Locis, and New Orleans.
D. L. GUERNSEY, Concord, n. h.
SCHUYLER SMITH, London and Prescott, Ontario.
F. DEWING & CO., San Francisco.

K'Mvrci. i ¦i-cro.:<Tl to Act of CongTCS'5, iu the yeas '.ISTl,
By H. s. GOODSPEED,
In the u.'.i.-u uf the j__-l'_-_-_1-.u of Congress, _it Washington.

Cr>5+, 163

COISTTE^TS.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS  11-13
PREFACE  13-14

L— THE I_OTAOT.;
CHAPTER L
INFANCY OP CHICAGO.
Humble origin of cities. Bomance of early pioneer life. Woman's conrage  17-19
CHAPTER IL
INDIAX MASSACEE.
Meaning of word Chicago. Fort Dearborn. Garrison of 1812. Particulars given by Brown
concerning the massacre. Bravery of troops. Cruelty of Favages. Escape of Sirs. Helen.
Murder of wounded prisoners. Captain and Mrs. Heald saved. Ransom of captives  19-35
CHAPTER UI.
HEUOVAL OF BABBAJOIANS.
Corrupting influence of the Indians. Obstacle to growth. Major Long condemns the place
and its inhabitants. Parton's description of the payment and departure of the savages.
Fort rebuilt. Block-honse demolished in 18156  35-38
CHAPTER IT.
CHICAGO A MUD-HOLE.
;* No bottom here." Bar in the river. Advantage of the early settlement of the East instead of the
West. A city set on a hill. Natural site for a large place. Some said it in. an early day .... 38-39

IL— THE YOUTH.
CHAPTER V.
"WATE n-CO Ul-SES.
Mistakes of early settlers in undervaluing the treeless prairies. Their beauty and fertility. Provi
dential settlement of the country. Illinois River and Canal. Twelve years in digging. Help
to Chicago from the canal. Filth of our river. Good story on its odor  40-41
CHAPTER VI.
GROWTH.
Tax Levy in 1&12. Population in 1837. Excited hopes. Ford's account of speculation in lots.
Farmers seeking a market here. Beef and grain trade before the advent of the locomotive.
First whistle of the steam-engine in 1S49  41-43

IV CONTEXTS.
CHAPTER VII.
PROMINENT FOUNDERS.
Many of thcM injured by the fire. Sketch ... Wm. 15. Ogden, the railroad king. Began poor.
Industry and brains triumphant. Absent during the conflagration. Letter written after his
return. Fearful - Insolation d. scribed. N.'--ht search after his burned home. Grateful
aeLnGwlei-'j-ncnt of the world's charily, iv-shtego destroyed, and his property there  43-49
CHAPTER VIII.
SAMur.L ho Ann and joiin ¦wentwoi-T-I.
Sad foatv.ro— the losses of men in year a. Mr. Hoard's influence and character. His early identiS-
cati jn with Chirngo. L\Hi:na.-.(ir under Johnson. D.gnity and Christian nobility. Advent of
" Lung John " in lb-'.G, Early addicted to politics. Editor and Mayor. Speculations ns to his
course had he been mayor at the Lime of the fire  49-54
CHAPTER IX.
GOVERNOR BROSS.
Became a c.t izen of Chicago in 1S-1S. Early faith in the future greatness of the city. Wrote a pam
phlet en its prospects. He lived to see his hopes realized. His account of the fire. Burning of
his Tribune building. Loss of Lis house. Cheerful spirit of the people under their calamitics.55-63
CHAPTER X.
CHARLES N. IIOLDEN.
Aztiey Cooper's advice to a cia^ of medical students. Illustrated by Mr. Holdcn. Landed h^re in
lv.\7 v.uii ten dollars. The young farmer. Attraction in Chicago. Marriage. t7s_eful citizen.
Public oiliwr. and supporter of educational and religious institutions  63-66
CHAPTER XI. j
FOLLIES OF GREAT MEN.
Judge Si win v. Court-room farce. Drank at home. Died of delirium tremens. Frequent
instance of the same. Godly men early here. The Methodist preacher at " Lake Michigan
Huddle.'1 Eloquent address. Trials of the pioneers of the Gospel..  66-71

III.— THE YOUNG GIANT.
CHAPTER XII.
_.Apn> DEvi;Lor^ir.NT.
Sudden ii'n ¦.««¦* nT porminl ion from 1K>(), In !Sj7 one hundred thousand people here ; in 1S71 there
were i:;r •¦: h.HM_vi and rhiri;-- P. jut thuu.;;::d. People became permanently located. Water
inn r-tved. Es,-Tyii!!._.s:-r iu mini, tor to the wants of man. Trade and commerce. Banks.
As.se -ved '¦ -_l.l. Li..n ot the c.ty, and area.  72-75
CHAPTER XIII.
CCN'l.'IKYCY OF CONFEDERATE PRISONERS.
War. Abr.i.inm LuitM.n. Oan.i< I. .nidus. Eddy's account of the conspiracy. Southern organiza
tion u< ~ :/¦¦' N< nl'.crn p!_i':o. Grand plans. Thwarted by Colonel Sweet, Detective's story.
_M__!-_iuuV__ke [jumped. CuUmu Swat's, plans. Arrest of conspirators. The vicissitude safely
Piuwi -d  75-SO
CHATTER XIV.
WATEK-WORKS.
Creator provides walev fnr His creatures everywhere. Sickness from foul water. Conception
of a plan tu draw supplies from the lake. Engineer's description of the water-works from
their incept urn till their completion. Commenced in 1S52, finished in lSli". Engine-room.
Water tower. Lake tunnel. Chambers. Ventilation. Alignment. Crib. Cyliudcr and
lake uka.it. Xunnwiling ami formal eelebnition of the completion  SO-107

CONTENTS. V
CHAPTER XT.
BIVEIt TUNNELS.
Description of cmirso of river. Bridges and their annoyance. Sccno in Washington street
tunnel on the ni'.'ht of the fire. Exaggerated reports. Dreadful experiences in the La Salle
street tunnel. Monuments of the energy of our people  107-110
CHAPTER XVT
MORALS AND nELIGlON.
Reputation for immorality. Divorce. Acknowledgment of corruption and iniquity. Vindication
of the other side of our life. Newness of everything in the West Great necessities. Not
absorbed in money-getting. Chnrchcs numerous and well sustained. Moody. North Star.
Mission schools of the Second Baptist Church. Late gathering of their pupils and teachers.
Educational institutions— Presbyterian, Methodist, Baptist, and Catholic Christians active
and liberal. Mutual kindness. Honesty and uprightness. A stranger's testimony  110-114
CHAPTER XVTL
AD VANTAGES OP CHICAGO.
Home for all nationalities. Country and city. Railroads. Elevators described. Grain dryer.
Drainage. City elevated several feet. Fire-alarm telegraph. Burning of the office. State
ment by one of the operators. Schools and academies. Religion and general culture.
Summary. The Young Giant down  114-120

IV.— THKOUGH FIRE.
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE GREAT CONTLAGRATIOS.
Eegan just after evening service, October 8, 1871. Peculiar dryness of the atmopphere. Fire of
October 7. lasting all ni^ht. Probable effect of this on the fire of the next evening. Many
writers summoned to teU their stories of the great fire. Punch and the kicking cow. Hart
ford Pom takes off the sensational reports. Yet no account can well exaggerate the horrors
of the time. A correspondent's vivid sketch  121-129
CHAPTER XIX.
REMOTE CAUSE OF WESTERN FIRES.
Mr. Barnard's article. He recognizes the peculiar dryness of the air. Bnt asks, "Why theso
droughts?1' Results of meteorology. Mischief caused by cutting away the forests. How
shall we restore them ? Imitate our transatlantic friends. Plant groves. Estimate of pecuniary
benefit. Little labor and good profits  1£0-133
CHAPTER XX.
PROGRESS OF THE FIRE.
Causes summed up. The Chicago Pns?s version of the disaster. Brilliant description from the
onset. Splendid images. Glowing paragraphs. The hurricane. The firemen. The
people. Madness and terror. Court-House. Sherman House. After daylight. Drunken
crowds. South Side wiped out as far as Harrison street Agonizing inquiries. Water
supply failed. Weeping men. Prayers and curses. Blowing up of O'Ncil's block checked
the flames. Terrace Row a wreck. Fire leaps the river and attacks the North Side.
Bridges burned. Terror of the peop'e. Cemeteries assailed. Churches consumed. McCor-
mick's factory ruined. HeU let loose its demons. Women and children flying and screaming.
The " Sands.'' No Fafcty by the lake shore except in getting into the water. Awful desola
tion upjn which the son went down  133-155

VI CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XXI.
OKI -JIN OF THE FIRE.
Men anxiM.s !o know the bcpinnine. Mean source. Cradle of the [ire. Times' story. New
York Tr hunv'f- narrative-. The IrUh woman interviewed. Unwillingness to disclose much.
V-wjI thai. ..he would have to f. --,_ the !.:11 oz lo..ses  1&5-1G9
CHAPTER XXIL
*TIIE EUF-NIXG.
Ri'han.-.1 beautiful poem. "Chicago in Ashes.'' The panorama of the fire, a» painted by
the C'dcvgo Timet. F< i-vtrie-^-::''^ of ungines. Roaring of the wind. Advance of the flames
in columns. Riv. r no barrier. Ruins of the preceding fire stayed the foe's progress north
ward. A Swede'- bundles on lire. Tar- works. Peculiarities of windcurrents. Crosby's Opera
House. Field & Ltiter's store. Times Building down. Michigan Southern Depot. Delusive.,
hopes. Sheridan u-ing powder. Last bulking to burn on South Side. Turn to New York
Tribune's report. View of the ruin. Fire began at the best place for its work. Combnrti-
bili-y .if Chicago then. Dreadful dust of the day. Grigg's bookstore. Times* narrative
r< ---i.mnd. NfTth Side the aristocratic portion of the city. Swept clean. Damage to La Salic
¦=tr-''c tunnel. A corner left. Progress of the fire. Water-works in flames. Tragedy and
f.-'.nirdy r.n the '•P.ind...'1 Chicago avenue bridge burned. Born on the street. Sixteen
burned in one ..hop. A terrible scone. New England Chnreh. Robert Collyer'a church.
I.in'-'jin "jiri. and i<id renv'ti'ry. Forty horses burned. End of the track of fire. Graveof the
lire describi'd. ?.I.iiil'-n ' >gdet_*.s house saved. Fiery tempest among the tombstones. Wrecks
of hoi: eh old •,_..;•!¦;. ^.n;,'-* i:. the night. Newberry School bounds the burnt district  162-235
CHAPTER XXIII.
AFT.ER THE FIRE.
Stupendous calamity. Had night. Rumors of awful deed.;, Morning dreaded. Werk for the
- unronunaKj made us furcsxc grid'. Tramp over the ruins described by a reporter. Crnmbled
_ ma.-.n:ry. kai!.--s tn-cs. grmii-al des-trnccion. Correspondent's account of eight-seers and *
ivlic mej-Lhanis. Intvn -ity of heat. Night scenes. Coal fires. Outlines cf mi:is. Suspicions
rife. IV_ro:iincr the city. No gas on the South Side, and no water. Cry for help. Early to
bed  205-._17
CHAPTER XXIV.
IKCIDEN'TS AND EXPERIENCES,
Advantage of combining many accounts. Fuller view and juster. Violence of the heat.
A r'hr:-Li;in won.'.i- con-o'siiion. A godly deacon. A libera! minister. Moody and his
r.il.ii.. fii-o. .T. R ad"-, i-scap't. J. W. Good? peed* s perilous adventure. Mrs. Hobson
ri'b!».d, I'.uva -. ._..... T:k: pugilistic deacon. The drop of rain on the cheek. Mr.
Kimball _:nd \\U ciV.-l.'. The rich man and the blankets. Mother's agony and joy. The
r enr.an w.....-,:i.i :;r. 1 h-r '_.:: -band. Drunkenness. Dr. Goodwin's story. Theft and avarice.
TV i- >••::-:.¦:¦' r. '.''.-'Vi-. puni died. Court-Houi-c deliver}- of criminals. The oil-stone
IIu-tv t :--p: ¦.'.-¦¦i. T)w < I'.nnn'.. troubl.es with patrolmen. A casecf brutal selfishness. The
invalid -v;f.*. r\ r. 'a.i'ir.al r<'p<_iT=. of crime. The beautiful Italian girl. » Nelly Grant.
Cl.)ihi:''.T :,¦;¦¦ r-r, ;:vny. The drama of "Divorce." The gay and gallant widow. Must save
hi-r -i.-iv. 'l"t.v i.:.'.lier a m__:i:rx. Rev. T. W. Good.-'peed, of Quinry, tells his experience in
the ll'-v. Pfv:_i' '¦". '¦'¦'¦<¦ h'vM'-'.i :-vii.ue beggars description. Fire in the chip's rigging. He
r.avt.i pi\>:»'v;y. -V v.-oiuaji'-i . ...ry uE the Arc. Startled by the sudden approach of the ltamca.
The mvali 1 i\f';-. d t" f-'-;.p". Trrarr.rcs forsaken. Tower and bells of St. James' Chnreh
fall. ^ympaiSiy '.villi hi -r pa .;.<>]•. Children who have lost their mother. The invalid rescued.
A g-.n'SL in a k.^'l has a I'i.i.T li-a of troubles. Curious memorial. Relics and relic-mer-
ch. i:\t-. The ir.ou in Hpcrd'- V.Uirk, One is saved and one lo-^t. The wire separated from
hiT :_,...-'n..r.d. >\\ "•[alt' i nairum eof (.he saving of the books of Abstracts of Titles. A revolver
fi.vures a w:i'.'"ii. i'.rvk wnr\\ Flying embers. AU safe. The Post-office cab. The disre
gard hi" ri'd i.ipe in .-aving mail maldr and government property. Postage stamps ruined.
The nm.ii-i"!. <<)' the miIYi.t'.t-s. Rainy and chilly night sowc<l scedsof disease. Five hundred
births. IbniiiiiiLu' i-keu-hMv* <>i fi-uri ul adventures by a ITcrald reporter. Rosa D'Erina.
Burning ui .ho A.'a.kwiy "'' IH's-igu mid other buildings. Bagnios destroyed. Awful scenes

CONTENTS. Vll
on the lake shore. Immersed in the water. Mayor's proclamation allayed terrors. Group
of dead. Citizen patrol. Heart-broken refugees. Professor Bradish's letter on the Academy
of Design. Rythcnncl's Battle of Gettysburg. Dreadful anxiety and suspense previous to
tho actual burning. Bigelow Hotel. False hopes deceive. Pictures removed. Sudden attack
of the fire prevents further work. All sinks into ruin. Mr. Volk in Rome. Tho valuable
watch in tho safe. Historical Society's building and collections perish. Rush of tho fire.
Overspreads the cemeteries. Ghastly spectacle. Pin-cushion versus silver. Instant death.
*' Our first great sorrow.** Dying wife and burning store. The Clerks of Court and their pets.
Dog's sagacity. The mouse a lion. President of I1L Central and his search for his family.
The adventures of a family living near the corner of Madison and La Salle. '* These are tho
things that trouble me most.1* Their looms lost. The German's violin, three hundred years
old. Charred though buried. " Books I " " Books I n Innumerable incidents. Child's relic.
Jolly merchants. Leonard Swett. Thrilling narrative by a lady. Her long agony. Saved
her canary bird. The engineer. Mr. Kerfootfs escape. Potter Palmer. The murderous
refugee killed by a farmer. Refugees In New York city. Mrs. Hobson and the half- orphans.
Mill i gan' s trotter. A description of the scene of desolation- - Night among the campers on the
prairie. " Don't ki, mamma; don't Id." A fire wedding. Fire-Marshal Williams' letter. .217-353
CHAPTER XXV.

Widespread damage. Our population drawn from all countries and States. Insurance
companies — their capital, assets, and losses, with suspended and sound companies. Grain
checks restored by Professor Wheeler. Safes unsafe. Restoration of burned money, &c, at
Washington. Records consumed. Indirect losses. Law Institute's Ions. Breweries. City
property. Churches. Trade and manufactures. Historical Society. R. T. Lincoln, B. P.
Taylor, I. N. Arnold. Fearful sufferings in trying to save home and life. Pinker-ton's rec
ords and collections in ashes. Mullet's inspection of government bnildings. Principal edi
fices destroyed. Description of the northwest spared district. The dead-house. Fatal results
of the calamity upon Hfe and health. Poem  363-403

V.— MINISTERED TO BY CHRISTIAN CHARITY.
CHAPTER XXVL
THE WORLD'S BENEVOLENCE.
Law of compensation. Present application. Great rush of the need. Prompt relief . The noble-
hearted railroad man and his worthy wife. Grand poem recognizing the bounty. " Heathen
Chinee." Letter from the South. Extract from Whittier'B lL Past." Cleveland, Springfield,
Milwaukee, Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, Boston, Montreal, a brilliant galaxy  404-413
CHAPTER _______ VLL i
INITIATORY STEPS OP RELIEF.
President Holdeii'a report. Graphic account. Report of Western Committee, October '13fch.
Work turned over by Mayor Mason to the Relief and Aid Society. Churches exchanged
foe other depositories and asylums. Generally imposed upon. Died in the churches.
Reunions  413-421
CHAPTER XXV 111.
RELIEF AND AID SOCIETY.
Poor fared well. Imposition arrested. Superintendent Gibbs issues admirable orders. Rations
allotted. Great carefulness and kindness enjoined. Bureau oE Special Assistance. "The
boy who took care of his younger brothers." Committee of Special Relief hard at work.
Specimen of distress relieved. Form of application. Magnanimity of railroads. Colonel
James Fi.sk, Jr. Amount of money received. Houses for the poor. Other gifts not
recorded except in Heaven  422-488

via CONTEXTS.
CHATTER XXIX.
SUPPLEMENTAL WORK.
Young Men's Christian Association. Women" -.Christian Union. Benevolent societies of a private
character. Chanty of citizens. A miser and a clergyman. Xo just account of aid possible.
' iSV.vM.oys hospitably entertained in Xevv York. Irish Tim. Old England. Queen Victoria's
interest. Chicago cosmopolitan  438-444
CHAPTER XXX.
AID FROM THE STATE.
Churches and orders assisted. Proclamations by Governor, of Wisconsin, Michigan, Ohio, Towa
and Illinois. Govcrnnr Palmer convenes the Legislature, nis message and their action.
The voice of the pulpit and press. Extract from a pocrn by Townsend  444-470
CHAPTER XXXI.
APPRECIATION OF THE BOUNTY.
Surprise of onr citizens. Primitive fraternity revived. Men wept who hftd not shed a tear over
their misfortunes. Tribune's eloquent acknowledgment Day of fasting and prayer recom
mended by the Mayor. Sermon by Rev. E. J. Goodspced in the Second Baptist Church.
Good deeds to l>e held in everlasting remembrance. New York congratulates mankind on the
great beneficence. A blessing on all givers. Chicago's appeal  470-435
CHAPTER XXXII.
GENERAL EXPECTATION OF CHICAGO'S RESURRECTION.
Punch's rhymed pun. Reputation for boasting. But Chicago had won z-espect for energy and
pow(_r. Speculations by London Spectator^ London Times, Daily Tel&jraph, DaUy New*.
Xew York Tribune. The St. Louis Democrat recognizes our recuperative force  486-495
CHAPTER XXXIII.
REBUILDING.
Horror of the situation after the fire. Rumors of incendiarism scontcd. Spontaneous
movement towards reconstruction. The cheerful voice of the press. Debris removed.
" Our debts will be paid." The artists full of courage. No rush on the banks. Rents
advanced. General inllation of prices. N. B. Jntld. Help proffered. Plucky girl. Econo
my. Churches rising agaiu. Prognostications fulfilled  430-512

VII— THE FUTURE.
CHAPTER XXXIV.

oLor.rors anticipations.
Whit.ier's "Chicago." Doubts and fears paralysed s-ome. But. a voice has said, ,:Risc." B. P.
Wade's e.-timatc in ltiCGot our future. What would he have said in ISTl ?  513-515
CHAPTER XXXV.
FAITH AND HOPE.
Chicago mu"t bo creator than over, The first reason for this is the confidence of our people.
r.ii-l. not weakened. The Chicago PosCs clarion-call to hopefulness. Grounds assigned for
renewed con tide-no.'  ,  51G-518
CHAPTER XXXVI.
TMK __TROSl-r MEN REMAIN.
Mercy oT the lire. Our men of might in trade, art. and journalism survive, girded for the contest
J. Y. Snumnon. Ai'r;hitcets* monuments down. W. W, Boyington. Jno. M. Van Osdct.
They are rriwded with new enterprises. City more splendid than before. Merchants. Jno.
V. Farwull " _";._-.v. 11 Hull." C. T. JOowen. Library for Youths. These men can repent
their careers  521-533

CONTENTS. IX

CHAPTER XXXVTI.

CHICAGO'S RESOURCES.
Faith supplemented by nature. What remains of Chicago. Harbor and shipping. The canal
The railroads converging here. Various nationalities. Actual indebtedness of Chicago.
Comparative age and population 0f Western cities. Cattle trade. Union Stock Yards. Full
description. MUsouri Republican recognizes our geographical supremacy  533-547
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
UTOPIA.
Vision of what might be. Universal education. Temperance. Justice. Purity. Sabbath
honored. Religion protected. Literature, Science, and Art encouraged. Provisions against
lire. Few fires in Paris. Magnificent possibilities. Pleasant picture of the Chicago of the
future  547-540

THE FIRES IN WISCONSIN AND MICHIGAN.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
"WTBCONSIN RAVAOED.
General drought. Volumes of smoke. Violent winds. One hundred and fifty miles of coast on
fire. The destruction of Pcshtego. Founded by Wm. B. Ogden. Rich timber conntry. Ex
cellent water-power. Fires in the woods. No fear of danger. Strange noises Sunday night
Sudden onset of the fire. Flocking to the river. Three hundred ronsted alive. Workmen
with wives and children perished in a brick building. People immersed in water np to their
necks. Terrible appearance on the day after the fire. Many escaped by the bed of the river on
the northern road. Corpses in the street. Rain Sunday night. People smothered among the
Pines. Relief, losses, incidents. Relief Committee. Losses three millions. Letter from
Mr. Ogden in behalf of "Little Frankic." The mother and her baby. A man swimming
for his l.fe. Strange phenomena. Wind, fire, and electricity. One hundred and seventeen
persons burned to death in Door County. Wide-spread desolation. Relief for the unfor
tunate. A Chicago man doubly injured  550-575
CHAPTER XL.
SUMMARY OF WISCONSIN LOSSES.
Captain Bourne's estimp.tc of the loss of lumber. Thrilling story of adventures. With a
maniac. Boston Relief Committee's report. People thought the Judgment Day had come.
Ample provisions for the sufferers. Announcement of the Milwaukee Relief Committee. .576-5D3
CHAPTER XLI.
DESOLATION IN MICHIGAN.
Steamers cruising off shore for the fugitives. Disaster less universal in its effects than that of
Chicago. Flourishing villages entirely destroyed. A man in the water eight hours. A four
hundred thousand dollar fire in Saginaw City. College students at Lansing fighting fire.
Sickening, blinding smoke for weeks before. People crazed. Ll No more wigwam ! " A city
saved. Manistee burned. Laird's heroism. Burning of Holland City. Distress of children.
" Hurrah for God ! " A single county in Michigan and its losses. Tuscola County and its
sufferings. Skeleton found in a log  5&4-620
CHAPTER XLII.
LOSSES. INCIDENTS, CHARITY.
The relief work. Loans of money suggested. A Detroit lawyer's liberality. The people assist
ing one another  ,  U21-C26

X CONTENTS.
HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES EST THE FAST.
CHAPTER XLIII.
FIIl_:K i:-: I- AKOTA.
A wittier'. . xppricnce with Sherman saved Ida We. A little girl's appeal. Miraculous escape
from a prairie lire. TJlo Rlsv/k Yi-ar. War, famine, pestilence, fire, wind, water, and ice.
M.U'd.rs, ..uicidci, vilhm. s  026-634
CHAPTER XLIV.
VlttGTr.'S DESCRIPTION OF THE BUI-SI-.0 or TEOT.
Virgil's poetical description of tho burning of Troy. The wooden horse. ..Eneas conveying his
family out of the llaincs. Loses his wife and returns. Sees his own house burning. Meets
tho ghost of his wife. Flees from the city  G35-640
CHAPTER XLY.
ANCIENT HOME IN FLAMES.
Description hy Tacitus of the burning of ancient Borne. Misery of the dreadful scene. Incen
diaries.  640-642
CHAPTER XLYI.
MOSCOW.
Sir Archibald Alison's description of the burning of Moscow. Napoleon and his troops intoxi-
cnli.il v.-ich joy. Moscow silent. The Russian governor's inscription affixed to the gates
of the palace. _'ir_ breaking out. Autumnal tempest. Description of the fire. Drunken
i''i-L'iii.b -oidiers. lloscow a heap of ruins  643-648
CHAPTER XLYII.
LONDON.
The gi-ent lire in London. Origin. Reservoirs empty. Fearful spectacle. Blowing np houses
Devastation. O'oim Howe's sermon. Rebuilding of London  6-1S-653
CHAPTER XLVIII.
NEW YOKE'S F.XPEItlEXCE OF FIBE.
Fire of lS-ll). Loss ..ix millions. Flames stopped by blowing up buildings. Beminiscences of the
lire. Speculations about " inflammable vacuum " in the air. Fire of 1845  G64-668
CHAPTER XLIX
OTEE1. CITIES VISITED.
Pitbbiirg. Philadelphia. Portland Charleston. Chicago. Sau Francisco  G5S-664
CHAPTER L.
Table ot llriM. Conclusion  066-687

ILLUSTEATIONS,

FAO-t

A Scene at the taking of Fort Dearborn, 1812  17
Black Partridge holding Mrs. Helm in the Water  27
Chicago in 1820  _,.  83-
Samuel Hoard  ' 51
Chicago in 1836  ...v.,  69
The Court-House Bell  69
Chicago Water-works from the Northwest.  87
Crosby' s Opera House  87
The New Pacific Hotel  103
View from the Court-House looking south.  123
View from the Court-House looking southeast  123
Drake & Farwell Block, Wabash avenue  123
Unity and New England Churches  123
The Court-House  141
The Chamber of Commerce  141
The Sherman House  142
Clark street, south from Washington street  ,  142
Field, Leiter & Co.'s Building, State street  159
Booksellers' Row  159
The Tribune Building.  160
Illinois and Michigan Central R.R. Depot  160
The Palmer House, State street  177
The Shepard Block, Dearborn street  177
Burning of the Chamber of Commerce  195
Burning of the Crosby Opera House  213
Burning of the Tremont House  231
Burning of the Grain Elevators  249
A Family Perish on the Roof of a House  267
Ruins of the Masonic Temple  285
Where the Fire began  285
Ruins of the Land Office of the Illinois Central R. R  285
Ruins of the Republic Life Insurance Company's Building  285
Ruins of the Post-Office and Custom-House  285
Ruins of the Chamber of Commerce and Court-House  286
Ruins of Crosby's Distillery  286
Ruins of the First National Bank.  286

Xli ILIXSTEATIONS. PAOB
Ruins of St. Paul's Church  303
Ruins of tho Methodist Church Block  303
Ruins of the Church of the Holy Name  303
Ruins of the First Presbyterian Church  S03
Ruins of St. James's Church  "O*
Ruins of the Second Presbyterian Church  304
Ruins of the New England Church  321
Ruins of tho Bigelow House  321
Ruins of the Pacific Hotel  321
Ruins of St. Joseph's Priory  321
Ruins of the Land Office  321
Ruins of the Great Union Depot  321
Ruins of tho Unity Church  322
Ruins of the Methodist Church  322
Ruins of Sands' Brewery  .'....'.' 322
Ruins of the Tribune Building  339
Silent Forever  339
I'ost-Ollioe Cat  339
Chicago will Rise Again  339
General View of the Ruin3 of the North Division  339
Ruins of Rush Medical College  339
New Chicago  339
Ruins of Field, Loiter <& Co. 's Store.  340
Relic found in the Ruins of the Church of the Holy Name  340
General View of tho Ruins on tho South Side  357
Hon. Isaac N. Arnold  375
Living Among the Ruins  393
The National Hand of Charity  411 '
The Relief Committee in Session  411
General Depot of Supplies for tho Sufferers by the Fire  429
Voting Ln. lies Ministering to the Homeless  447
Opening Vaults of Merchants' Loan and Trust Company  465
Haulim; Sufos from tho Ruins  483
Tho First Building Erected in the Burnt District  501
John M. Van Osdol  519
John V. Farwell  537
The Burning of Pcshtego  555
A Wisconsin Homo Enveloped in. Flames  573
Refugees from White Hock Seeking Safety in the Water  591
Rebuilding Chicago  609
A Young Merchant Disposing of Relics  627

PREFACE

Among the remarkable phenomena of modern times,
Chicago occupies a leading place. Richard ,Cpbdep,^Ja
English statesman, charged Goldwin Smith on the. eve' m
his departure for America :..:.." See two things _in i.the
United States, if nothing else— Niagara and.Chicago,"-V
intimating thus that these were the two principal wonders.
of the New World to a stranger. .Since our ' Great Con
flagration, it has occurred simultaneously to many that
the ambitious young city, always aspiring to lead, wished
also to surpass the world in the way of a fire. And now,
certainly, her fortunes attract and interest millions of
mankind as never before. To satisfy this interest in part,
many have undertaken to write up the city and its vicis
situdes. Believing that the story of its changes, pros
perity and calamity, of its help and hope, will be eagerly
read by millions, we offer this contribution, gathered from
many sources and carefully prepared, to the generous
public, who have already signalized their interest in our
welfare by the most magnificent bounty to our suffering
thousands. Let the poet no longer sing —
"Oh, the rarity
Of Christian charity ! "
but rather celebrate " The quality of mercy,
Which droppeth like the gentle rain from Heaven."

Xiv PREFACE.
Our parched soil, after fourteen weeks of drought, did
not rejoice in the showers that fell from God, as we
exulted in the beneficence that poured forth upon us in
our extremity of need. "The Lord loveth a cheerful
giver ! "
Chicago is great in its ruins and hopeful in its prostra
tion. The record of its herculean energy and manly hero
ism, and the outlook for its future, must, animate and
encourage the world, now smitten in every part by our
misfortune. "VVe send forth this venture in humble gratitude to' the
Almighty for such a past, in submission to His provi
dence, confidence for the future, and trust in the
charitable generosity of the people, to whom it is boldly
submitted for their patronage.
We have faithfully sought to arrange all the lights
needed for a complete illustration of the stupendous
events recorded. In the full illumination afforded by
these various torch-bearers, many of them brilliant and
glowing, the reader may expect to see and appreciate, as
no one eye-witness could, what must ever be considered
marvellous among the marvels of time ! E. J. G.
Chicago.

" Hear the loud alarum bells-
Brazen bells !
What a tale of terror, now,' their torbnlency tells I
In the startled ear of night
How they scream out .their 'affright I'
: .-' Too much horrified td speak,
They can only shriek,"6hriek,
Out of tune,
In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire,
In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire,
Leaping higher, higher, higher,
With a desperate desire
And a resolute endeavor,
Now — now to sit or never,
By the side of the pale-faced moon.
Oh, the bells, bells, bells,
What a tale their terror tells
Of despair I
How they clang, and clash, and roar,
What a horror they outpour
On the bosom of the palpitating air! "

NOTICE.

The Publishers purpose, after defraying the expenses of pub
lishing and selling this book, to devote a portion of the profits
which may arise from the sale thereof to the aid of deserving
mechanics, working-women, etc., who have suffered by the fires.
Having already made several instalments, the following letters
are appended to show the manner in wliich aid is proposed to be
rendered. The Publishers.

Chicago, November 25, 1871.
H. S. Goodspeed & Co. :
GerMcmen — I have received the elegant sewing-machine sent by you to me,
to be given to the most deserving person of my acquaintance who suffered in the
late terrible fire here. May God bless you in your endeavors to help our suffering
people, so many of whom -will have a hard struggle to live through the cold
¦winter. I am very truly yours,
Mrs. LIZZIE AIKEN, Missionary.

glOO. Chicago, 27th. November, 1S71.
Received from J. W. Goodspeed, of Chicago, One Hundred Dollars, for the
Chicago Relief and Aid Society. GEORGE M. PULLMAN, Treasurer.
Per W. C. Nichols, Cashier.

Feee Reading-Rooms and Library op the 1
Youxg Men's Christian Association, >
97 W. Randolph st., Chicago, Nob. 28, 1871. )
Mr. J. W. Goodspeed, Publisher,
51 S. Carpenter street, Chicago :
Dear Sir — On behalf of the Young Hen's Christian Association of Chicago, I
would gratefully acknowledge the receipt oE your order upon Lyon & Healy for a
Burdett Organ for the use of the devotional meetings, upon account of Dr. Good-
speed's " History of Chicago and the Great Fire." May all the .other results of
that wonderful visitation in like manner tend to promote the praise of God and
the edification of his Church. Yours in Christ, ROBERT PATERSON.

Rooms Ladies' Christian Union, )
Con. Peoria and Jackson streets. J
Mr. J. W. GooDsrEED, Publisher :
hear Sir — The Ladies' Christian Union do most gratefully acknowledge the
receipt of a Home Shuttle Sewing-Machine from you, as publisher of Dr. Good-
speed's " History of Chicago and Great Fires." It is a most timely and accept
able gift, and our prayers are that "He who loveth a cheerful giver" may
reward you, who, in giving to the poor in time of their utmost need, but lend to
Him. Yours truly,
Mrs. 0. P. KNOX, Preset Ladies? Christian Union.

.5

HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES

IK

CHICAGO A_fflB[HEWEST.

L— THE INFANT.

CHAPTER I.

Cities, which are but an aggregation of individuals, have their
periods of development, changes, growth, checks, prosperity and
adversity, sickness and recovery, and alas ! of decline and dissolu
tion, like men. The proudest of earth's great gatherings of
human beings had their origin in some accident, or, we may
better say, some providential circumstance or course of events,
and their progress from humble beginnings has been slow. As
rivers rise in some small obscure fountain in the depth of the
forest, or upon the mountain side, and wind onward for long dis
tances, fed by other streams till they become like the foaming
Rhine or the majestic Father of Waters, so the metropolis now
teeming with vast multitudes of busy men, began in a group
of lowly huts or cabins, and increased by degrees from within
and from without, by births and immigration, till it reached

-o '1IST0RT OF T!ir_ (.BEAT FIRES
greatnci-s and became a power in the earth. We may compare it
to flic snowball which boys roll along the whitened field till it be
comes an immense mass. It was at first just a handful of white
crystals massed together ; it ends by assuming gigantic proportions.
Our Londons and other capitals grew up in this manner, and
had in their history all the elements of crudeness and feebleness
which marked Chicago's infancy.
The age of fable has passed, and in telling the story of Chicago
we have no Romulus and Remus suckled by a wolf to adorn our
tale. Yet if all that was experienced by the first white people
who settled the shores of this magnificent lake could be de-
r-'.-ribed with graphic pen, the story would be full of romance.
Wo cannot point to such an origin as Yenice had, which was tho
!¦"¦ treat of robber bands who built among the shallow waters and
upon the mud a nest for themselves, to which they might bring
their plunder. Yet upon these sands, and beside the river that
winds along the prairie as if loth to leave the Lake, savages
roamed or built their wigwams for temporary residence. And these
waters echoed to the war-whoop, and the shriek of the despairing
was heard, in unison with the moan of the waves along the beach.
lint the white people who came to this Far West were men of
adventurous, but not bloodthirsty natures, who sought for them
selves a fonune in these untrodden virgin regions of the New
World. These harly pioneers were tired of restraint in older
countries, ami pined for the freedom of the wild prairies, where
the winds A"'.e no freer than the spirits of the hunter. Woman,
ever clinging fondly to man, accompanied the bold adventurer to
cheer and Mos him in his wanderings, and to help him sustain
the hardships of frontier life.
In the tearful Indian massacre which early stained these shores
vrirh hlood, there shone forth the heroism and fidelity of the female
character — even as sixty years afterwards, in the horrors of the
:.:rious as.-aiili of murderous flames, woman exhibited heroism and

IN CUICAG0 AND THE WEST. 19
i
nobleness, and proved herself worthy to be termed man's "help
meet." 0 woman, in our hpurs of ease
Uncertain, coy, and hard to please,
And variable as the shade
By the light, quivering aspen made ;
When pain and anguish wring the brow,
A ministering angel thou 1

CHAPTER "II
In the alternation ot viej^^^g^tli^^^unnW^^'w^-'^
France and England, the natiyeTBlSbTe2the aborigines, were soiine^
times on the side of the colonists and sometimes against them.
It was natural for them to incline io the dominant party, and
they became the prey of intriguers who Jbonght their treacherous
aid with presents. It was needful to protect outlying settlements,
where trade was carried on by adventurous white men, by means
of forts and garrisons. Chicago, a term said to have denoted a
king or deity, a skunk or a wild onion, was much haunted by the
Indians, and a fort there arose to give the shelter of its guns to
the whites. Often had it been marked for assault, but always
escaped, till the period of the last war with Great Britain, when
certain circumstances conspired to prepare the way for the great
tragedy described by the historian Brown.
INDIAN MASSACRE.
When war was declared in 1812, the little garrison at Chicago,
consisting of a single company, was commanded by Captain
TIeald ; Lieutenant Helm arid Ensign Ronan were officers under
bim, and Dr. Van Voorhes its surgeon.
On the 7th of August, 1812, in the afternoon, Winnemeg, or
Catfish, a friendly Indian of the Pottawatomie tribe, arrived at
Chicago, and brought dispatches from General Hull, containing

10 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIKKS
the first intelligence of the declaration of war. General Hull's
letter announced the capture of Mackinaw, and directed Gaptain
Heald '• to evacuate the fort at Chicago if practicable, and in that
event to distribute all of the United States property contained
in the fort, and the United States factory, or agency, among the
Indians in the neighborhood, and repair to Fort Wayne." Winne-
meg urged upon Captain Heald the policy of remaining in the
fort, being supplied as they were with ammunition , and provi
sions for a considerable time. In case, however, Captain jEfeii-Id.
thought proper to evacuate the place, he urgedj^cttnhimjtne!
propriety of doing so immediately, before thejj?pjfawa.wipie£
(through whose country they must pass, and -'wto>;fw^re|a_5 "'yet
ignorant of the subject of his mission) could collect a fonje'suifi-
cient to oppose them. This advice, though given in great
earnestness, was not sufficiently regarded by Captain Heald ;
who observed, that he should evacuate the ibrt, but having
received orders to distribute the public property among the
Indians, he did not feel justified in leaving it until he had col
lected the Pottawatomies in its vicinity, and made an equitable
distribution among them. Winuemeg then suggested the expe
diency of marching out, and leaving everything standing; " while
the Indians,"' said he, " are dividiug the spoils, the troops will bo
able to retreat without molestation." This advice was also
unheeded, and an order for evacuating the fort was read next
morning on parade. Captain Heald, in issuing it, had neglected
to consult his junior officers, as it would have been natural for
him to do iu such an emergency, and as he probably would have
done, had there not been some coolness between him and Ensign
Ronan. The lieutenant and ensign waited on Captain Heald to learn
his intentions, and being apprised for the first time of the course
he iutended to pursue, they remonstrated agamst it. "We do
not," said they to Captain Heald, "believe that our troops can

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 21
pass in safety through the country of the Pottawatomies to Fort
Wayne. Although a part of their chiefs were opposed to an at
tack upon us last autumn, they were actuated by motives of pri
vate friendship for some particular individuals, and not from a
regard to the Americans in general; and it can hardly be sup
posed that, in the present excited state of feeling among the In
dians, those chiefs will be able to influence the whole, tribe, now
thirsting for vengeance. '>BesideB,'?j<Baid they,^'v,our^mai_ciimus£
be slow, on account of the^d&lralSiid.i^dren^^p.urfprc^toO
is small. Some 6f our EMMdienrtai^uperannuatea, andBpmeTbf <
nm nt>f_ mTrnlina AA/ a • ?,T»i,«ii^firWSs_J*'fi**»___i':lA__i "iST/ini* •' AvnaKfl > aha nifl "i

them are invalids. We : tMnK^^fefore^to W6tir ..orders ; are! di&-";
cretionary, that we had better rora^^ourseives_;as strongly as pos-)
sible, and remain where we areS^SnccOr may riB&ch us before
we shall be attacked from Mackinaw ; and, in case of such an
event, we had better fall into the hands of the English than be
come victims of the savages."
Captain Heald replied that his force was inadequate to contend
with the Indians, and that he should be censured were he to con
tinue in garrison when the prospect of a safe retreat to Fort
Wayne was so apparent. He therefore deemed it advisable to
assemble the Indians and distribute the public property among
them, and ask of them an escort thither, with the promise of a
considerable sura of money to be paid on their safe arrival ; add
ing that he had perfect confidence in the friendly professions of
the Indians, from whom, as well as from the soldiers, the capture
of Mackinaw had studiously been concealed.
From this time forward the junior officers stood aloof from their
commander, and, considering his project as little short of mad
ness, conversed as little upon the subject as possible. Dissatisfac
tion, however, soon filled the camp ; the soldiers began to mur
mur, and insubordination assumed a threatening aspect.
The savages, in the mean time, became more and more trouble-
Bome, entered the fort occasionally in defiance of the sentinels,

22 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
and even made their way, without ceremony, into the quarters of
its commanding officer. On one occasion an Indian, taking up a
rifle, fired it in the parlor of Captain Heald. Some were of
opinion that this was intended as the signal for an attack. The
old chiefs at this time passed back and forth among the assembled
groups, apparently agitated; and the squaws seemed much ex
cited, as though some terrible calamity was impending. JSo fur
ther manifestations, however, of ill feeling were exhibited, and
the day passed without bloodshed. So infatuated, at ,this .time,
was Captain Heald, that he supposed he had wrought a favorable
impression upon the savages, and that the little garrison could
now inarch forth in safety."
From the ?th to the 12th of August the hostility of the Indians
was more and more apparent ; and the feelings of the garrison,
and of those connected with, and dependent upon it for their safety,
more and more intense. Distrust everywhere at length prevailed,
and the want of unanimity among the officers was appalling.
Every inmate retired to rest, expecting to be roused by the war-
whoop ; and each returning day was regarded by all as another
step on the road to massacre.
The Indians from the adjacent villages having at length arrived,
a council was held on the 12th of August. It was attended only
by Captain Heald on the part of the military — the other officers
refused to attend, having previously learned that a massacre was
intended. This fact was communicated to Captain Heald; he
insisted, however, on their going, and they resolutely persisted in
their refusal. When Captain Heald left the fort they repaired to
the blockhouse which overlooked the ground where the council
was in session, and opening the port-holes, pointed their cannon
iu its direction. This circumstance, and their absence, it is sup
posed, saved the whites from massacre.
Captain Heald informed the Indians in council, that he would
next day. distribute among them all the goods in the United

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 23
States factory, together witli the ammunition and provisions
with which the garrison was supplied; and desired of them an
escort to Fort Wayne, promising them a reward on their arrival
thither, in addition to the presents they were about to~receive.
The savages assented, with professions of friendship, to all he
proposed, and promised all he required.
The council was no sooner dismissed, than several waited on
Captain Heald in order . tq open his eyes, if ;possiblent;o their
condition. The impolicy of furnishmg'athe/Indiaris .with arms and.ammt
nition, to be used against .thgro^^a; struckCaptain HeahL
so much force that he resply^^fflgtiipnt . consulting his^offii
to destroy all not required for Immediate ufee,
On the next day (August 13th}fthe goods in the factory store
were distributed among the Indians: .and 'in the evening the
, ¦'¦ -.v'-cy* r. !••.'• «©?*(.:.''" •~t*'?!. ,-"¦'* *---&&.* ¦¦
ammunition, and also the liquors belonging to the garrison, were
eairied, the former into the sally-port and thrown into the well,
and the latter through the south gate, as silently as possible, to
the river bank, where the heads of the barrels were knocked in,
and their contents discharged into the stream. ,..,
The Indians, suspecting the game, approached as near as
possible, and witnessed the whole scene. The spare muskets
were broken up, and thrown into the well, together with bags of
shot, flints, and gun-screws, and other things ; all of little value.
On the 14th the despondency of the garrison was for a while
dispelled by the arrival of Captain Wells and fifteen friendly
Miamies. Having heard at Fort Wayne of the order to evacuate
Chicago, and knowing the hostile intentions of the Pottawato-
mies, he hastened thither in order to save, if possible, the little
garrison from its doom. He was the brother of Mrs. Heald, and
havino- been reared from childhood among the savages, knew
their character; and something whispered him "that all was not
well." He was the son of General Wells of Kentucky, who, in

¦n\ HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
the defeat of St. Clair, commanded three hundred savage war
riors posted in front of the artillery, who caused extraordinary
carnage among those who served it; and, uninjured himself,
picked off the artillerists, until "their bodies were heaped up
almost to the height of their pieces."
Supposing that the whites, roused by their reverses, would
eventually prevail, he resolved to abandon the savages and rejoin
his countrymen.
This intrepid warrior of the woods, hearing that luB^'friends
at Chicago were in danger, and chagrined at the obstinacy 01
° ° . . jv '.¦¦*'¦ .1 ;#W*8SK!$p*?-' ¦
Captain Heald, who was thus hazarding their safeftt?«ame
thither to save his friends, or participate in their fate.^BCe ar-
rived, however, too late to effect the former, but just in. tune to
effect the latter. 'Having, on his arrival, learned that the ammu
nition had been destroyed, and the provisions distributed among
the Indians, he saw there was no alternative. Preparations were
therefore made for marching on the morrow.
In the afternoon a second council was held with the Indians,
at which they expressed their resentment at the destruction of
the ammunition and liquor in the severest terms. Notwith
standing the precautions which had been observed, the knocking
in of the heads of tho whiskey-barrels had been heard by the
Indians, and the river next morning tasted, as some of them ex
pressed it, "like stroug grog." Murmurs and threats were every
where heard; and nothing, apparently, was wanting but an op
portunity for some public manifestation of their resentment.
Among the chiefs there were several who participated in the
general hostility of their tribe, and retained, at the same time,
a regard lor the few white inhabitants of the place. It was im
possible, however, even for them to allay the angry feelings of
the savage warriors, when provocation, after provocation had
thus been given ; and their exertions, therefore, were futile.
Among this class was Black Partridge, a chief of some renown

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 25
Soon after the council had adjourned, this magnanimous warrior
repaired to the quarters of Captain Heald, and taking off a medal
he had long worn, said: "Father, I have come to deliver up to
you the medal I wear. It was given me by your countryman,
and I have long worn it as a token of our friendship. Our
young men are resolved to imbrue their hands in the blood of the
whites. I cannot restrain them, and will not wear a token of
peace when compelled to act as an enemy."
.¦ • <,ti1^* -:' '.'¦'. ' -_.¦ ¦ * - - __
Had doubts previously existed, they were now at an end. ?. The .
, . , . .: <r*^.>'- ,,'.¦/ :¦¦-¦¦- .£^\*-\*1&llW>'i
devoted garrison continued, however, their preparations as before ;
1 ' ' ' i'A-!yiii,*r'-J ¦ ' <' ' "- ' " "i _|1'"'1'' ¦" '< ¦¦',J'i'"w' • ¦
and amid the surrounding gloom. a'few gallant sjpirits still cheered
their companions with hopes of security.
The ammunition reserved, twenty-five rounds to each soldier,'
was now distributed. The baggage-wagons * designed for the
sick, the women, and the children, containing also a box of car
tridges, were now made ready, and the whole party, anticipating
a fatiguing, if not a disastrous, march on the morrow, retired to
enjoy a few moments of precarious repose.
On the morning of the 15th the sun rose with uncommon
splendor, and Lake Michigan " was a sheet of burnished gold."
Early in the day a message was received in the American camp,
from To-pee-na-bee, a chief of the St. Joseph's band, informing
them that mischief was brewing among the Pottawatomies, who
had promised them protection.
About nine o'clock the troops left the fort with martial music,
and in military array. Captain Wells, at the head of the Mia-
tnies, led the vau, his face blackened after the manner of the
Indians. The garrison, with loaded arms, followed, and the
wagons with the baggage, the women and children, the sick and
the lame, closed the rear. The Pottawatomies, about five hun
dred in number, who had promised to escort them in safety to
Fort Wayne, leaving a little space, afterward followed. The
party in advance took the beach road. They had no sooner ar-

2fi HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
rived at the sand-hills, which separate the prairie from the beach,
about a mile and a half from 'the fort, than the Pottawatomies,
instead of continuing in rear of the Americans, left the beach and
took to the prairie. The sand-hills, of course, intervened, and pre
sented a barrier between the Pottawatomies and the American
and Miami line of march. This divergence had scarcely been
effected, when Captain Wells, who with the Miamies was con
siderably in advance, rode back and exclaimed: "They are about
to attack us ; form instantly and chaige upon them."jvThe word
had scarcely been uttered, before a volley of musketry .'.from
behind the sand-hills was poured in upon them. The troops were
brought immediately into a line, and charged up'-'We^'bahk7
One man, a veteran of seventy, fell as they ascended. ^Thebattle
at once became general. The Miamies fled at the outset; their
chief rode up to the -Pottawatomies, charged them with duplicity,
and brandishing his tomahawk, said, "he would be the first to
head a party of Americans, and return to punish them tor their
treachery." He then turned his horse and galloped off in pursuit
of his companions, who were then scouring across the prairie,
and nothing was seen or heard of them more.
The American troops behaved gallantly. Though few in num
ber, they sold their lives as dearly as possible. They felt, how
ever, as if their time had come, and sought to forget all that was
dear on earth.
While the battle was raging the surgeon, Doctor Voorhes,
who was badly wounded, and whose horse had been shot from
under him, approaching Mrs. Helm, the wife of Lieutenant Helm
(who was in action, participating in all its vicissitudes), observed:
" Do you think," said he, " they will take our lives ? I am badly
wounded, but I think not mortally. Perhaps we can purchase
safety by offering a large reward. Do you think," continued he, *
" there is any chance ? " " Doctor Voorhes," replied Mrs. Helm,
" let us not waste the few moments, which yet remain, in idle

BLACK PARTRIDGE HOLDING MRS. HELM IN THE WATER.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 27
or ill-founded hopes. Our fate is inevitable. We must soon appear
at the bar of God. Let us make such preparations as are yet in
our power." " Oh ! " said he, " I cannot die. I am unfit to die !
If I had a short time to prepare ! Death ! — oh. how awful ! "
At this moment Ensign Ronan was fighting at a little distance
with a tall and portly Indian; the former, mortally wounded, was
nearly down, and struggling desperately upon one knee. Mrs.
Helm, pointing her finger, and directing the attention of Dr.
Voorhes thither, observed : " Look," said she, " at that young
man ; he dies like a soldier." .,..;'*.. • •¦ •< ¦ ;.
" Yes," said Doctor Voorhes, " but he has no terrors of the
future; he is an unbeliever." -;;,,.,,> ,
A young savage immediately raised his tomahawk to strike Mrs.
Helm. She sprang instantly aside, and the blow intended for hei
head fell upon her shoulder. She thereupon seized him around
his neck, and while exerting all her efforts to get possession of his
scalping-knife, was seized by another Indian, and dragged forcibly
from his grasp.
The latter bore her, struggling and resisting, towards the lake.
Xot withstanding, however, the rapidity with which she was
hurried along, she recognized, as she passed, the remains of the
unfortunate surgeon stretched lifeless on the prairie. She was
plunged immediately into the water and held there, notwith
standing her resistance, with a forcible hand. She shortly, how
ever, perceived that the intention of her captor was not to drown
her, as he held her in a position to keep her head above the
water. Thus reassured she looked at him attentively, and in
spite of his disguise recognized the '¦ white man's friend." It
was Black Partridge.
When the firing had ceased, her preserver bore her from
the water and conducted her up the sand-bank. It was a beauti
ful day in August. The heat, however, of the sun was op
pressive; and walking through the sand, exposed to its burning

..'S HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
rays in her drenched condition, weary, and exhausted by efforts
beyond her strength, anxious beyond measure to learn the fate of
Inn- fri"!i'l.-. and alarmed for her own, her situation was one of
agony. The troops having t' night with desperation till two-thirds of
their number were slain, the remainder, twenty-seven in all,
borne down by an overwhelming force, and exhausted by efforts
hitherto nneqnallcd. at length surrendered. They stipulated,
however, for their own safety and for the safety of their remain
ing women and children. The wounded prisoners, however, in
the hurry of the moment, were unfortunately omitted, or rather,
not particularly mentioned, arid were therefore regarded by the
Indians as having been excluded.
One of the soldiers' wives, having frequently been told that
prisoners taken by the Indians were subjected to tortures worse
than death, had from the first expressed a resolution never to be
taken, and when a party of savages approached to make her their
prisoner she fought with desperation, and though assured of kind
treatment and protection, refused to surrender, and was literally
cut in piece.-, and her mangled remains left on the field.
After the surrender, one of the baggage-wagons, containing
l-.velvc children, was assailed by a single savage, and the whole
number were mas-acred. All. without distinction of age or sex,
)>¦}] at once oene.-ttli his murderous tomahawk.
Captain Wo!!,, who had as yet escaped unharmed, saw from a
distance the whole of this murderous scene, and being apprised
of the stipulation, and on seeing it thus violated, exclaimed aloud
_*> as to be heard by the Pottawatomies around him, whose
prisoner he then was : " If this be your game I will kill too ! " and
turning his horse's head, instantly started for the Pottawatomie
camp, which was near what is now the corner of State and Lake,
where the squaws and Indian eliildren had been left ere the
l-attle began. He had no sooner started than several Indians

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. lit)
followed in his rear and discharged their rifles at him as be gal
Inped the prairie. He laid himself flat on the neck of his horse,
and was apparently out of their reach, when the ball of one of
his pursuers took effect, killing his horse and wounding him
severely. He was again a prisoner— as the savages came up,
Winnemeg and Wa-ban-see, two of their number and both his
friends, used all their endeavors in order to save hin ; they had
disengaged him already from his horse, and were supporting him
along, when Pee-so-tum, a Pottawatomie Indian, drawing his
scalping-knife, stabbed him in the back, and thus inflicted a mortal
wound. After struggling for a. moment he fell and breathed his
last in the arms of his friends^' a victim for those he had sought
to. save — a sacrifice to his own rash, presumptuous, and perhaps
indiscreet intentions.
The battle having ended and the prisoners being secured, the
latter were conducted to the Pottawatomie camp near the fort.
Here the wife of Waw-bee-wee-nah, an Illinois chief, perceiving
the exhausted condition of Mrs. Helm, took a kettle and dipping
up some water from the stream which flowed sluggishly by them,
threw into it some maple sugar, and stirring it up with her hand
gave her to drink. "It was," says Mrs. Helm, "the most
delicious draught I had ever taken, and her kindness of manner,
amid so much atrocity, touched my heart." Her attention, how
ever, was soon directed to other objects. The fort, after the troops
had marched out, became a scene of plunder. The cattle were
shot down as they ran at large, and lay dead or were dying
around her. It called up afresh a remark of Ensign Konan's
made before: ''Such," said he, "is to be our own fate — to be
shot down like brutes."
The wounded prisoners, we have already remarked, were not
included in the stipulation made on the battle-field, as the Indians
understood it. On reaching, therefore, the Pottawatomie camp, a
scene followed which beggars description.

o'1 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
A wounded soldier lying on rhe ground was violently assaulted
by an old squaw, infuriated by the loss of friends, or excited
by the murderous scenes around her, who, seizing a pitchfork,
attacked with demoniac ferocity and deliberately murdered, in
cold biood, the wretched victim now helpless and exposed to the
burning rays of the sun, his wounds already' aggravated by its
heat, and he writhing in torture. ' During the succeeding night
rive other wounded prisoners were tomahawked.
Those wounded remained in the wigwams of their captors.
The work . plunder being now completed, the fort next day was
set on fire. A fair and equal distribution of all the finery belong
ing to the garrison had apparently been made, and shawls and
ribbons and feathers were scattered about the camp in great
profusion. The family of the principal Indian trader having
been moved across the river, Black Partridge and Wa-bau-see,
with three other friendly Indians, stood sentinels at his door.
Everything was now tranquil. Even savage ferocity appeared to
tie gorged. Soon, however, a party of Indians from the Wabash
arrived, the most implacable of all the Pottawatomies.
Runners bad been sent to all their villages, and information
transmitted thither that the fort was to be evacuated, that its
spoils were to be divided among the savages, and its garrison to
be massacred ; they had therefore hurried on with their utmost
M-eed to participate in the exhilarating and awful scene. On
arriving at the Aux Plains they were met by a party returning
from Chicago bearing a wounded chief along. Informed by these
friends that a battle had been fought and a victory won, that its
spoils had been divided among the conquerors, and the prisoners
scalped and shun (and they not present), their rage was unbounded.
They therefore accelerated their march, and on reaching Chicago
blackened their faces in token of their intentions, and entered the
pailor of the Indian trader before referred to where the family

EV CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 31
were assembled with their faithful protectors around, and seated
themselves without ceremony in silence upon the floor.
Black Partridge, perceiving in their looks what was passing in
their minds, and not daring to remonstrate, observed in an under
tone to Wa-bau-see, " We have endeavored to save our friends.
but all is in vain — nothing will save them now." At this moment
another party of Indians arrived, and a friendly whoop was heard
from the opposite shore. Black Partridge sprung upon his feet,
and advancing to the river's bank, met their chief as he landed.
"Who," said Black Partridge.;'^ are you?" "A man," re
plied the chief; " who are you ? " ;" A man like yourself." " But
tell me," said Black Partridgej " who are you for? " ¦ "I am,"
said he, " the Sau-ga-nash." " Then'make all speed to the house,"
replied the former ; " your friends are in danger, and you only
can save them."
Billy Caldwell, the newly arrived chief (for it was he), there
upon hurried immediately thither, entered the parlor with a calm
deliberate step, and without the least agitation in his manner,
took off his accoutrements, and placing his rifle behind the door,
saluted the hostile savages. " How now, my friends ? " said he,
" a good day to you. I was told there were enemies here ; but I
am glad to find none but friends. Why have you blackened your
faces ? Are you mourning for the friends you have lost in the bat
tle (purposely mistaking the token of their evil intentions), or are
yon fasting ? If so, ask our friend here and be will give you to
eat. He is the Indians' friend, and never retnsed them what
they had need of."
Taken thus by surprise, the savages were ashamed to acknowl
edge their bloody purpose ; and in a subdued and modest tone said
they had come to beg of their friend some white cotton, in which
to wrap their dead before interring them. This was given them,
with other presents, and they quietly departed.
Captain and Mrs. Heald were sent across the lake to St.

,32 HISTORY OF THE O-RKAT FIRES
¦lopeph's after the battle ; the former was twice, tin d the latei
seven times wounded in the engagement. The horse rode b]
Mrs. H'vdd was a flue spirited animal, and the Indians wen
anxious to obtain it uninjured. Their shots were therefore prin
oin ally aimed at the rider. Her captor being about to tear ofl
her bonnet, in order to scalp her, young Chaudonnaire, an Indiai
of tiie St. Joseph's tribe, knowing her personally, came to het
rescue, and offered a mule he had just taken for her ransom ; t<
this he added a promise of ten bottles of whiskey. The lattei
was a strong temptation. Her captor, perceiving that she wai
badly wounded, observed that she might die, and asked him if h<
would give him the whiskey at all events ; he promised to do so
and the bargain was concluded.
Mr-. Heald was afterward put into a boat in company witl
¦•ther-, including her children, and a buffalo robe thrown ove'
them. She was then enjoined to be silent, as she valued her life
Tn this situation she remained, without uttering a sound tha
could betray her to the savages, who came frequently to the boa
in search of prisoners. Captain Heald was captured by an IndiaT
from the Kankakee, who, having a strong personal regard fo;
him. and seeing the wounded and enfeebled condition of his wife
released biin without ransom, in order that he might accompany
Mr*. Heald to St. Joseph's. To the latter place Mr. and Mi's
Heal <1 were conveyed by Chaudonnaire ' and his party. The
Indian who had *o nobly released his prisoner, on returning t(
his tribe, found them dissatisfied; and their displeasure becam.
so manifest that he resolved to make a journey to St. Joseph's, t<
reclaim his prisoner News, however, of his intention preceding
him, Mr. and Mrs Heald, by the aid and influence of To-pa-na
hoc and Kee-po-tah wore put into a bark canoe, and paddled bj
* chief of the Pottawatomies and his wife to Mackinaw, threi
hundred miles diJt"ant along the eastern coast of Lake Michigan
and delivered to the British commander. They were kindly re

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 35
ceived, and sent afterward as prisoners to Detroit, where they
were finally exchanged.
Lieutenant Helm was wounded in the action, and taken pris
oner ; he was afterward removed by some friendly Indians to the
Au Sable, and from thence to St. Louis, and liberated from cap
tivity through the intervention of Mr. Thomas Forsythe, an
Indian trader.
Mr3. Helm was wounded slightly in the ankle, had her horse
shot from under her, and after passing through several agonizing
scenes, was taken to Detroit.
The soldiers, with their wives and children, were dispersed
among the Pottawatomies on the Illinois, the Wabash, and Eock-
rivers, and some were taken to Milwaukie. In the following
spring they were principally collected at Detroit, and ransomed.
A part of them, however, remained in captivity another year, and
during that period experienced more kindness than they or their
friends had anticipated.

CHAPTER HX
The indolent, debauched barbarians were among the most
serious obstructions to the progress of the infant town, as their
bloody and vengeful ancestors had hindered the early settlement.
Men were unwilling to hazard their scalps in unequal contests
with these wild savages unless there was some prize to be gained
worthy the dangerous venture; and when they had become tamed
they were still animals, corrupt and corrrupting. The condition
of the muddy banks of Chicago river and the outlaying prairie
was not particularly inviting to persons of intelligence, who had
been accustomed to the comparative civilization and improve
ments of the East. But one by one these obstacles disappeared.

30 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRE8
The inferior race, made so by ages of ignorance and superstition,
must inevitably go down before the superior, exalted by centuries
of education and Christian influences. Once, indeed, Teuton and
Saxon and Celt were low clown in the scale of humanity, scarcely
equalling the North American Indian in his best estate; and long
periods of revolution and elevation preceded the present high
position they occupy in the New World. And now, placed on
the borders of civilization, exposed to the low and debasing influ
ences of barbarism, they are liable to descend to a depth of degra
dation scarcely conceivable. In 1827 an agent of the Govern
ment reported Chicago as having no dwellings above kennels and
pens, and described the squatters as " a miserable race of men,
hardly equal to the Indians." It was therefore a policy of wis
dom in the United States, and even of humanity, to remove the
savages to a distance from the whites, between whom a mutual
degradation was exerted. We submit Parton's description, which
graphically tells the story and justifies the action of the authori
ties, while it enables us to realize some of the gigantic difficulties
under which our infant city labored: —
" On "a day in September, 1S33, seven thousand of them
gathered at the village to meet Commissioners of the United
States for the purpose of selling their lands in Illinois and Wis
consin. In a large tent on the bank of the river the chiefs
signed a treaty which ceded to the United States the best twenty
million acres of the Northwest, and agreed to remove twenty
days' journey west of the Mississippi. A year later four thou
sand of the dusky nuisances assembled in Chicago to receive
their first annual annuity. The goods to be distributed were
heaped upon the prairie, and the Indians were made to sit down
around the pile in circles, the squaws sitting demurely in the
outer ring. Those who were selected to distribute the mer
chandise took armfuls from the heap, and tossed the articles
to favorites seated on the ground. Those who were overlooked

IN CHICAGO AND TnE WEST. ¦ 37
soon grew impatient, rose to their feet, pressed forward, and at
last rushed upon the pile, each struggling to seize something
from it. So severe was the scramble, that those who had secured
an armful could not get away, and the greater number of empty-
handed could not get near the heap. Then those on the outside
began to hurl heavy articles at the crowd, to clear the way for
themselves, and the scramble ended in a fight, in which several
of the Indians were killed and a large number wounded. Night
closed in on a wild debauch, and when the next morning arrived
few of the Indians were the better off for the tliirty thousand
dollars' worth of goods which had been given them. Similar
scenes, with similar bloody results; Tvere enacted in the -fall'
of 1835 ; but that was the last Indian payment Chicago ever saw.'
"In September, 1835, a long train of forty wagons, each
drawn by four oxen, conveyed away, across the prairies, tho
children and effects of the Pottawatomies, the men and able-
bodied women walking alongside. In twenty day3 they crossed
the Mississippi, and for twenty days longer continued their west
ward march, and Chicago was troubled with them no more.
Walking in the imposing streets of the Chicago of to-day, how
difficult it is to realize that thirty-two years have not elapsed
Eince tho red men were dispossessed of the very site on which the
city stands, and were 'toted' off in forty days to a point now
reached in fifteen hours."
Were there space to insert here, after the above interesting
exit of "poor Lo," Judge Euger's poem nailed to the walls of the
Old Block House which was threatened with demolition, we
should perceive how fondly the early settlers clung to the relic
whose reminiscences were full of painful, interest. The Fort
was abandoned in consequence of the unsettled state of affairs
in the country; but as men would congregate here, it_was rebuilt
in 1S1G, and finally demolished in 1S5G. Our people scarcely
have time or space to devote to what is not strictly practicable

•JO mSTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
for present uses, and hence the relics of other days soon lade and
perish from neglect or actual violence.
« She boldly faced the daring foe,
She did her duty well.
She kept the white men's foes at baj —
Tho savage hounds of hell !

CHAPTER IV.
Another difficulty which oppressed the early settlers was the
mud, which at times seemed bottomless. Where the city lately
prospered in all its glory and grandeur, with clean streets, deep
basements, and dry cellars, and buildings rising in towered ma
jesty, the water stood a portion of the year, or teams struggled,
helplessly " slewed " in the deep black ooze of the streets and
prairies. Often a wagon would sink so far that little but the
tongue appeared to indicate where the remainder lay. Or a
board was set up with a rude inscription, evidently facetious,
"No bottom here." The water was surface water, and little
better than if dipped out of a pool by the road-side. The river's
month was choked by a bar of sand which destroyed the har
bor, and communication with the better portions of the country
was extremely precarious. More than two centuries after the
Pilgrims landed at Plymouth all this vast prairie region was, as
it were, a wilderness occupied by wild beasts and still wilder
men, and the metropolis of the Northwest yet lay floundering
like an infant in swaddling clothes — so slowly does the Creator
evolve His plans, and leave something ever fresh and rich for
human enterprise to discover and possess. The bold fathers of
New England wrung from nature's bosom scanty nourishment:
and her cities grew slowly — far more slowly than the western
Hercules. When the East had become established in wealth, and

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 39
overflowed with brains and energy, here was the natural outlet
and place for expansion and investment. God had made the
flattest spot on the continent the fit location for that "city set on
a hill which cannot be hid." For, singularly enough, the rain
that falls in this spot finds its way by natural courses partly to
the Atlantic by the St. Lawrence and partly to the Gulf of
Mexico by the Mississippi. There is Lake Michigan connecting
us with the northern seas, and the Illinois river bearing our
sewerage to the southern ocean. A few men were gifted with
that far-sightedness that enabled them to see how the yonng
child must grow. They had even seen his star in the East, and
they came with their gifts of courage, talent, hope, and industry
to lay them at his feet, and swear allegiance to the destiny of the
promising Infant.

40 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES

II. THE YOUTH.

CHAPTER V.

Men early undervalued land without trec3, and often chose the
openings, or groves, the sheltered banks of streams, or hilly loca
tions, in preference to these naked prairies. All lived to regret
their choice who saw the development of these portions of the
soil which contain the largest and best accumulations of fertility,
and offer the easiest opportunities for cultivation. At certain
seasons they seem barren and gloomy in their nakedness, but at
most periods there is something beautiful in their boundlessness,
like the ocean's expanse ; and their undulating bosom, like the sea
in a storm, is covered with a green spray, or lit up with the golden
glory of abundant harvests.
It was doubtless a blessing to our country that the Pilgrims did
not, like the early Spaniards, light upon these rich parts of the
country, or discover the mineral resources of the Pacific coast.
They grew a nobler race in consequence of their tough encoun
ters with savage men, and the rugged shores and hills of New
England. We had a basis of moral and mental stabilitv, and
political prosperity, when the gates were flung wide and the
world invited to pour their masses forth upon these virgin treasures.
The Illinois river flows into the Mississippi, and is connected
with Lake Michigan by a canal at La Salic, ninety-six miles from
Chicago, This great work was begun in 1836, and completed
in lS-tS, and many thousands were already awaiting its'bencfits
in the young city, where the transshipment of the produce of the
Southern counties must furnish employment and create business

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 41
This enterprise gave Chicago its first strong push upward. In
later days the ditch has been so deepened that the amb'er-colorcd
waters of our lake flow through the Chicago river and cleanse
out its filth, so long an offence whose rankness smelled to heaven
Until last spring, or the early summer of 1871, at all seasons,
except when the ice shut down the foul odors, there rose from the
bayou or lagoon lying stagnant 'along its twelve or fifteen miles,
unless stirred by the pumps, the vilest stench, which not only dis-
gusted the senses, but- attacked the health of our citizens. > To
strangers it was a perpetual source of raillery. A story is told of
a citizen who made a visit in June to the country, and was so
overpowered by the fresh air that he fainted, and was revived
only upon the application to his nose of a decayed fish. A& he
rallied, and speech returned, he asked, " Where am I ? It smells
so much like home." The canal has, therefore, proved a double
advantage, never to be overestimated, in bringing us into contact
and relations with the wealthy heart of our State, and bearing
away from us the sewerage of a populous city. •

CHAPTER VI.
In 1832 there was a tax of one hundred and fifty dollars levied
on the eight hundred people then dwelling on the banks of Chi
cago river, and the first public building consumed one-twelfth of
the levy — " a pound for stray cattle." The population multiplied
from 1S33, though in 1837 there were but 4,-±70 persons here.
Government began to dredge out the river, and Nature helped
with a freshet tjjat swept away the bar, and made a harbor acces
sible to the largest vessels. The Infant then became the Youth,
and people were wild with excited hopes of sudden riches.

42 HISTORY OF TIIIC GKKAT FIRES
Ford's History of Illinois says: In the spring and summer of
1S3C the great land and town-lot speculation of those times had
fairly reached and spread over Illinois. It commenced in the
State lirst at Chicago, and was the means of building up that
place, in a year or two, from a village of a few houses to be a city
of several thousand inhabitants. The story of the sudden fortunes
made there excited at lirst wonder and amazement, next a gam
bling spirit of adventure, and lastly an all-absorbing desire for
sudden and splendid wealth. Chicago had been for some time
only a great town market. The plots of towns for a hundred
miles around were carried there to be disposed of at auction.
The eastern people had caught the mania. Every vessel coming
west was loaded with them, their money, and means, bound for
Chicago, the great fairyland of fortunes. But, as enough did not
come to satisfy the insatiable greediness of Chicago sharpers
and speculators, they frequently consigned their wares to eastern
markets. Thus, a vessel would be freighted with land and town
lots, bound for New York and Boston markets, at less cost than
a barrel of flour. In fact, lands and town-lots were the staple ot
the country, and were the only article of export.
Outside the little town floundering in the mud, there were
sturdy fanners wresting from the black and fertile soil their hid
den treasures. These men had Chicago for their chief market,
and contributed to raise it from the revulsions which cast it down
in 1S36 and 1S37. It is interesting to notice how the country
made the city, and this reacted upon the country, so that the
whole- Northwest is vitally concerned in the prosperity of her
metropolis. We turn again to Parton's description of this period,
and of the progress in business now steadily observable.
" A little beef had already been salted and sent across the lake ;
but in 1S31J the business began to assume promising proportions
3,000 cattle having been driven in from the prairies, barrelled
and exported. In 183S a venturesome trader shipped thirty-nine

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 43
two-bushel bags of wheat. Next year, nearly 4,000 bushels were
exported; the next, 10,000; the next, 40,000. In 1842 the
amount rose, all at once, from 40,000 to nearly 600,000, and
announced to parties interested that the " hard times " were com
ing to an end in Chicago. But the soft times were not. That
mountain of grain was brought into this quagmire of a town from
far back in the prairies, — twenty, fifty, one hundred, and even
one hundred and fifty miles ! The season for carrying grain to
market is also the season of rain, and many a farmer in those
times has seen his load hopelessly " slowed " within what is now
Chicago. The streets used often to be utterly choked and impas
sable from the concourse of wagbnsj which ground the roads into
long vats of blacking And yet, before there was a railroad
begun or a canal finished, Chicago exported two and a quarter
millions of bushels of grain in a year, and sent back on the most
of the wagons that brought it, part of a load of merchandise."
¦ In 1849 the first locomotive halted ten miles below the city,
and heralded the coming of the tide that rolled across the prairies,
as the Nile freshets enrich its banks. The immigrants were
usually of the better class, and made communities which have no
superiors in the civilized world.

CHAPTER VIL
During these years, between 1833 and 1850, men came hero
who have made the city great by their labors. Many of these
noble spirits lived only long enough to see the name of Chicago
respected and honored, and escaped the sorrow of witnessing her
proud career so cruelly arrested. Others still survive the confla
gration, who have lost much of their accumulations ; perhaps all

44 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
is consumed; they are left to an old age of disappointment
and want. Of the prominent citizens whose brain and energy
gave the city its present pre-eminence, some are yet in the prime
of vigorous manhood, and will rally to rebuild and restore that
which was at once their pride and joy. They are crippled in
resources, but undaunted in spirit. We can give a view of the
youth of this region and city with increased vividness by sketch-
ino- briefly the career of some of these public-spirited men, who
became early identified with the fortimes of Chicago. One, of
whom all persons familiar with our affairs would be quick to
speak and glad to hear, is a gentleman who has experienced very
severe losses both here and in the States devastated at the same
time. Wm. B. Ogden, the Railway .King of the West, still towers
among us, a strong refuge and help in our time of need. From a
faithful notice in Biographical Sketches, we glean these items : —
" He arrived at Chicago % June, 1835, having then recently
united with friends in the purchase of real estate in this city. He
and they foresaw that Chicago was to be a good town, and they
purchased largely, including Wolcott's addition, and nearly the
half of Kinzic's addition, and the block of land upon which the
freight-houses of the Galena and Chicago Union Railroad now
stand. Mr. Ogden was very successful in his operations in 1835-6 ;
but he became embarrassed in 1S37-8, by assuming liabilities for
friends, several of whom he endeavored to aid, with but partial
success. He struggled on with these embarrassments for several
years. Finally, in 1S42-3, Mr. Ogden escaped from the last of
them ; and since then his career of pecuniary success has been un
clouded. They were gloomy days for Chicago when the old inter
nal improvement system went by the board, and the canal drew
its slow length along, and operations upon it were finally suspend-

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 45
ed, leaving the State comparatively nothing to show for the mil
lions squandered in "internal improvements."
His operations in real estate have been immense. He has sold
real estate for himself and others to an amount exceeding ten mil-
iions of dollars, requiring many thousand deeds and contracts
which have been signed by him. The fact that the sales of his
house have, for some years past, equalled nearly one million of
dollars per annum, will give some idea of the extent of his busi
ness. He has literally made the rough places smooth* and the
crooked ways straight, in Chicago. - More than one hundred miles
of streets, and hundreds of bridges at street corners, besides sev
eral other bridges, including two over the .Chicago river, have
been made by him, at the private expense of himself and clients,
and at a cost of probably hundredB of thousands of dollars.
Mr. Ogden's mind is of a very practical character. The first
floating swing bridge over the Chicago river was built by him for
the city, on Clark street ; (before he ever saw one elsewhere),
and answered well its designed purpose. He was early engaged
iu introducing into extensive use in the West McCormick's reap
ing and mowing machines, and building up the first large factory
for their manufacture — that now owned by the McCormicks. In
this manufactory, during Mr. Ogden's connection with it, and at
his suggestion, was built the first reaper sent to England, and
which at the great Exhibition of 1851, in London, did so much
for the credit of American manufactures there.
He was a contractor upon the Illinois and Michigan canal, and
his efforts to prevent its suspension, and to resuscitate and com
plete it, were untiring.
Mr. Ogden is a man of great public spirit, and in enterprise
unsurpassed. To recapitulate the public undertakings which have
commanded his attention and received his countenance and sup
port, would be to catalogue most of those in this section of tho
Northwest.

46 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
Mr. Ogden has never married. In 1837 hebuilt a delightful resi
dence in the centre of a beautiful lot, thickly covered with fine na
tive growth forest trees, and surrounded by four streets, in thatpart
of the city called North Chicago ; and there, when not absent
from home, he indulges in that hospitality which is at the same
time so cheering to his friends and so agreeable to himself.
What the presence of a man, born like him to command, and
organize action, might have done for our stricken city we now
know not. As soon as the dreadful tidings reached him, as will
be seen from his letter inserted below, he flew to the rescue.
Thirty -five years ago Mayor Ogden forecast the future, as men of
judgment may do, but this vision did not rush red on his sight
Nevertheless, he rallies in youthful zeal, his eye not dimmed nor
his natural force abated, to gather up the fragments, and recon
struct out of these shattered remains a city that shall be worthy
of the lavish gifts of nature, and the splendid endowments of cap
ital. His words, spoken to the citizens amidst the ruins, and in
their exchanges, have all been hopeful, conciliatory, and wise.
May Heaven grant him years to see a rehabilitation of our dis
mantled town, so that, like the patriarch, his last days may be his
best. His letter must strike every mind and touch the heart
with the sense of the pathos of human life; for, like many oth
er:,, he had doubtless come to feel that " nothing can stop Chicago
now." A change of wind for a few hours on Monday would have
fairly blotted us out, and scattered our three hundred thousand
people to the four winds of Heaven. In his sublime faith, he
says : The Northwest, which made Chicago, and forces her on
more and more rapidly, is not, except in her sympathies for our
great loss, affected by the Chicago fire, and her borders were never
being extended so fast, so broadly, or so far, by railways, by
settlements, improvements, and added people and wealth as
now; and Chicago's future and " manifest destiny " as a oreat
metropolitan Western city was never so assured.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 47
" Chicago, October 11, 1871.
" I left New York on Monday morning last, and reached this
utterly indescribable scene of destruction and ruin on Tuesday
evening after dark.
" On the cars I kept hearing of more and more dreadful things
until I reached here. The truth cannot well be exceeded by
report or imagination. How it could be that neither buildings,
men, nor anything could encounter or withstand the torrent of
fire without utter destruction is explained by the% fact that the
fire was accompanied by the fiercest tornado, of wind ever known
to blow here, and it acted like a perfect blow-pipe, driving the
brilliant blaze himdreds of feet with so perfect a combustion that
it consumed the smoke, and its heat was so great that fireproof
buildings sank before it almost as readily as wood — nothing but
earth could withstand it ; consequently my brother Mahlon's
house is the only unburned dwelling on the North Side, from the
river to Lincoln Park, within half or three-quarters of a mile of
the lake shore ; and the only other unburnt buildings weie two
down at tho end of our north pier. On the South Side, east of the
South Branch and north of Harrison street, but two buildings are
left. " The fire advanced almost as fast as you could escape before
it, and in a very few hours about one hundred thousand people
had to leave their houses and flee for their lives, carrying but
little, often nothing, with them.
" When I reached the depot on my arrival here it was quite
dark. Tho burning district had no lamp. Thousands of smoulder
ing fires were all that could be seen, and they added to the mourn
ful gloom of all around you, and do so yet. I saw no one that I
knew at the depot, and had as yet no definite knowledge of the
extent and details of the ruin. I hired a hack and started for my
own house, directing the hackman — who was a stranger — as well

¦AS HISTORY OF TTIE GREAT FIRES
as I could. Often, however, I was lost among the unrecognizable
ruins, and could not tell where I was. Not a living thing was
to be seen. At length, however, more by the burnt trees than
anytliing else, I threaded my way over the fallen debris, and past
the pale blue flames of the winter's stock of anthracite coal burn
ing in almost every cellar, until I came to the ruined trees and
broken basement walls — all that remained of my more than
thirty years' pleasant home. All was blackened, solitary, smoul
dering ruins around, gloomy beyond description, and telling, a
tale of woe that words cannot.
" I proceeded to learn the fate of Mahlon's and Caroline's
beautiful places. Near the ruined water-works on Chicago
avenue I saw a lantern ; stopped tho carriage, got out and
made my way, over fallen walls that blocked the street in
many places, to it, and there met the engineer of the water
works, whom I knew, and from whom I first learned that
Mahlon's house, through the efforts of General Strong, Charley,
and others, was the only one unburned in all that region, and I
gladly made my way to it. Found Mahlon, General Strong,
and Charley there, all the rest of the family having fled to Eiver-
side. " The wind at the time of the fire was from the southwest, and
Mahlon's house being some six hundred to eight hundred feet
distant from others across the park in that direction, the flames
could not reach it so directly, and the air mingled with them
more, and made it possible to live and breathe there while
the fiery torrent which so filled the air passed. Everything
but the two buildings mentioned is swept from our dock and
canal property, and the new piers are considerably injured.
" Aid and sympathy come to us from' all quarters with a will
that touches our heart to the core, and serves us wonderfully in
our hour of need ; but the great loss and ruin remain.
" Worse than all hero, so far as it goes, is the utter destruction

FN -CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 49
of Peshtego village, with all its houses, factories, mills, stores,
machine-shops, horses, cattle, and, sad to say, seventy-five to one
hundred or more people. They buried yesterday two hundred
and fifty of the farming people around our mills, burned by the
tornado on their farms or on their way to the village for safety,
and seventy-five more from the village ; and it is said others are
drowned in the pond.
"My large mills and buildings at the mouth of the river
escaped entirely. One of my large barge-vessels was burned, and
two others and the steamer that towed them are missing as yet,
since the storm, with a million of lumber on them.
" I have been two days, by snatches of time,' writing this, with
much difficulty.
"W. B. Ogden."

CHAPTER VIIL
One of the sadder features of the conflagration was the loss of
property bj- men who have grown gray in the service of their fel
low-men, and whose competence seemed assured. Especially
painful was this aspect of the case when men were sorely wounded,
whose fortunes have been sacredly held as a legacy from God for
the promulgation of truth and the amelioration of human sorrow.
Hon. Samuel Hoard belonged to this privileged class whose delight
is in promoting the welfare of mankind and the glory of God.
He wears the hoary head which is a crown of glory, and has felt
the truth of that scriptural saying that riches take to themselves
wings and fly away. What he has given he has as an everlast
ing treasure laid up with Him who loveth a cheerful giver. His
life is inseparably bound up with young Chicago, and we take
pleasure in reproducing a brief view of his history here, and his

50 niSTORY OF THE GREAr FIRES
general character and influence, for it should be known that tho
men who did most for the rising West were generally men of in
tcgrity and Christian virtue. We have been cursed with many
bad men, and blessed with many whose names shine on the scroll
of the wise and good.
Becoming infected with the Western fever, he migrated to Illi
nois, and commenced life in Cook County, upon a prairie farm. In
that early clay the former paid great prices for oxen and seed, and
obtained small prices for beef and grain, so that the prospects of
sudden wealth vanished, or were dashed with disappointment.
One of Mr. Hoard's neighbors spent two day3 in marketing a load
of potatoes, and then, not finding a purchaser who would offer
more than ten cents a bushel, he drove to the wharf, dumped his
load into the stream, and vowed that he would never bring anoth
er potato to that market. Tempora mutantur ! In 1840 he was
appointed to take the State census for the County of Cook. Chi
cago was then ambitions to be considered a large town. But
neither he nor Sheriff Sherman, who took the United States cen
sus, could find five thousand persons in that infant city. In 1842
he was elected State Senator, and served in the sessions of 1842-3.
Being soon after appointed clerk of the Circuit Court, he removed
to the city, and engaged in public affairs and the real estate busi
ness until 1S45, when he formed a partnership with J. T. Ed
wards in a jewelry house, where he continued until the first year
of the war. The love of country burned in his bosom, and he
threw his whole soul into the work of saving the nation from dis
memberment and overthrow. He was an indefatigable member
of the Union Defence Committee, and gave one year's gratuitous
service, as secretary, to the patriotic labors in which they were
absorbed. He was appointed by President Lincoln postmaster
of Chicago, and retained his position, filling it with eminent suc
cess, until Mr. Johnson's general proscription cut him off, with so
many others, from the public service. His last official position

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. t>3
has been in connection with the Board of Health, where he has
rendered the public iiwaluable beneflts in warding off the scourge
of cholera, the attack of which was universally dreaded. He has
passed through an eventful experience, and in his old age has
ample means, abundant honors, and hosts of friends. In personal
appearance large and well-formed, with a broad and high forehead,
and a dignified yet graceful carriage, Mr. Hoard would be a no
ticeable gentleman in any company, and command instant respect.
In society he is affable and courteous to all classes, and diffuses
an agreeable atmosphere and influence wherever he mingles. He
exhibits the effect of his association with men of talent and varied
culture. ''^'CS.-i.' .u',j •-•'•
Through his countenance and address shines also his kind and
unselfish nature. He is a man who possesses a warm, generous
soul, that throbs in sympathy with human experiences, and opens
his ear and his hand to every call for attention and succor. Eter
nity only will reveal the instances of personal kindness, the timely
gifts, the encouraging words, the helpful visits, the cordial greet
ing, which have made him beloved and honored.
It would scarcely be possible to do justice to the Youth of this
proud municipality without introducing "Long John," who
shipped his trunk by the brig Manhattan from Detroit, and set
out on foot to reach the new town then clustering on this spot.
He was a New Hampshire boy, and his legs were long, and he
soon made his way along the beach from Michigan City — this
being the only road at that primitive epoch — and arrived upon
the scene of his exploits and triumphs October 25, 1836. The
railroad bad progressed from Schenectady as far as Utica at that
date, and Illinois was farther from the Yankees than Eome or
Athens is from us, and almost as mythical a region as these
places are now to many.
" John Went worth is one of the very few men now living who
attended the meetings called in the winter of 1836-7, to consider
4

54 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
the expediency of applying to the Legislature, in session at VaD-
dalia, for a city charter.
He was secretary of the first political meeting ever called in
tho First Ward to make nominations preliminary to the first
municipal election, and at which meeting Hon. Francis C. Sher
man was one of the nominees for alderman. In August, 1837,
he was secretary of a convention held at Brush Hill (now of Du
Page County), to nominate officers for the then county of Cook,
and at which Walter Kimball was nominated for Judge of Pro
bate. In 183S he was appointed school inspector; and he held
the same office, under the new name of Member of the Board of
Education, when he was last elected to Congress. He has met
among the scholars, whilst making his official visits, the grand
children of those he met as scholars in his first year of service.
He was the first corporation printer in Chicago, elected in 1837,.
and he held the position for about three-fourths of the period of
the twenty-five years that he was sole editor, publisher, and
proprietor of the Chicago Democrat. He commenced making
public speeches at our first municipal election, when Hon. W. B.
Ogden was elected Mayor." Often Mayor of Chicago, he always
gave satisfaction and proved himself an energetic executive offi
cer. To have seen him at the head of police and firemen during
the Great Fire would have been a source of joy to the good citi
zens, and gallant little Phil. Sheridan would have earned no
laurels, for Mr. Wet) t worth would have had no need of military,
and would have fired his own powder in arresting the flames. As
it was, all things were ready, except our leaders, for the confla
gration, and it took its own resistless course, and won its awful
victory.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 00
CHAPTER IX.
Among our most influential men, and, alas! heavy losers by the
fire, is Governor Bross, whose outline we borrow from a full por
trait in the "Western Monthly":
In October. 1846, Mr. Bross started out West, and visited
Chicago, St. Louis, and other Western cities. Chicago, though
then an apparently unimportant town — not a commercial empo
rium, but literally a "Garden City"— was recognized by his
cultivated eye as the future focus of the great Northwest. . .He
decided to make it his home. He returned to the East, closed
his school, and moved to Chicago, arriving here, on the 12th of
May, 1848, as the active partner in the bookselling firm of
Griggs, Bross & Co.
In the fall of 1849, Mr. Bross commenced the publication of
the "Prairie Herald," and two years afterwards the "Democratic
Press." The paper was " started " with a definite object — not as a mere
shift. The proprietors had carefully canvassed the situation, and
come to the conclusion that Chicago and the West were about
to enter on a rapid and tremendous growth. They saw that this
was inevitable; but they also recognized that the extent of that
growth would largely depend upon the impression which Chicago
should make abroad. Mr. Bross at once bent himself to a study
of the resources of this region, and then set about with equal
diligence to let the world know their character and extent. He
felt that all that was necessary was to exhibit the facts ; that the
inference would be irresistible; that the brain and muscle, the
energy, enterprise, and capital needed to develop this fruitful
scene would roll in hke the tide of ocean, if the world was posted
in regard to what was being done here and what could be dore.
That year was really an epoch in the history of Chicago \ it
marked the beginning of her real prosperity. In 1852 the city

56 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
was opened up to direct relationship with the East by the twc
great iron arteries known as the -Michigan Southern and the
Michigan Central Eailroads. The roads now leading westward
from Chicago were also all projected, and some of them begun ;
the Galena road being pushed as far as Elgin, and the Bock Island
road to Joliet, while workmen were busy on the track of the
Illinois Central. Our city was emerging from the lethargy which
had weighed her down since the panic of 1837, and was asserting
her claim to be- the great railroad and commercial focus of the
Northwest. Mr. Bross loved to write of Chicago in the then present ;
but he also delighted- to sketch its inevitable future as it appeared
to him. Many even among those who believed that Chicago
would be a great city, regarded hiin as a visionary ; but the most
skeptical have since confessed that he saw and thought accurately,
judging of the future from the causes then operating around
him, and not fondly guessing or lazily dreaming out visions of
grandeur. Our subsequent history has realized almost all that
he dared to predict. In his pamphlet of 1854 we find such words
as these : " We are now in direct railroad connection with all
the Atlantic cities from Portland to Baltimore. Five, and at
most eight years, will extend the circle to New Orleans. By
that time also, we shall shake hands with the rich copper and
iron mines of Lake Superior, both by canal and railroad, and
long ere another seventeen years have passed away, we shall have
a great national railroad from Chicago to Puget's Sound, with a
branch to San Francisco." On another page of the same pam
phlet, after speaking of the advantages of the situation, glancing at
the light death-rates, and alluding comprehensively to the position
of Chict.go-at the head of the great chain of lakes, as guarantee
ing to her a focal point from and to which should flow for all
time the articles consume. 1 by, and productions raised in, that
immense region of country lying to the westward, he points confi-

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 57
dently to the " free navigation of the St. Lawrence, by which means
vessels loaded at our docks will be able to make their way to the
ocean, and thence direct to the docks of Liverpool." Looking
around on the great coal-fields of Illinois, the lead mines of
Galena, and the grand copper mines of Lake Superior, he wrote,
that they all "point to Chicago as the ultimate seat of extensive
manufactures." In the light of our present knowledge we might al
most be. tempted to think that these expressions were mere antedat
ed history. Our railroad system now connects Chicago with every
part of the Continent. Long before the seventeen years have
passed over his head, he has lived to see the great Pacific Eail-
road completed, and ship navigation around Niagara Falls almost
a fixed fact. We are already manufacturing Lake Superior iron
in our city, and our vessels carry its copper to the East; while
our grain and pork trade have long since mounted far up into the
millions. It is difficult to conceive how the burning of his fondly-cher
ished city must have crushed the heart of one who had done so
much to raise it to its late eminence. Harder still to realize his
feelings as he saw his own home and property melting and smok
ing before his eyes, and he powerless to save them ! Let us listen
to him as he tells the story of his experience in the night of gloom
and on the following day : —
" About 2 o'clock on Monday morning, my family and I were
aroused by Mrs. Samuel Bowles, the wife of the proprietor of the
Springfield Republican, who happened to be a guest in our house.
We had all gone to bed very tired the night before, and had slept
so soundly that we were unaware of the conflagration till it had
assumed terrible force. My family were all very much alarmed
at the glare which illuminated the sky and lake. I saw at once
that a fearful disaster was impending over Chicago, and immedi
ately left the house to determine the locality and extent of the
fire. I found that it was then a good deal south of my house and

f. HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
west of the Michigan Southern and Bock Island Bailroad depots.
I went home considerably reassured in half an hour, and finding my
family packing things up, told them that I did not anticipate dan
ger, and requested them to leave off packing. But I said : " The
re.-.ult of this night's work will be awful. At least 10,000 people
will want breakfast in the morning; you prepare breakfast for
100." This they proceeded to do, but soon became again alarmed
and recommenced packing. Soon after 2£ o'clock I started for
The Tribune office, to see if it was in any danger. By this time
the fire had crossed the river, and that portion of the city south
of Harrison street and between Third avenue and the river, seemed
ina blaze of fire, as well as on the west side. I reached The Tri
bune office, and seeing no cause for any apprehension as to its
safety, I did not remain there more than twenty minutes. On
leaving the office I proceeded to the Nevada Hotel (which is my
property), tit Washington and Franklin streets. I remained there
for ;m hour watching the progress of the flames and contemplating
the ruinous destruction of property going on around. The fire
had passed east of the hotel, and I hoped that the building was
safe ; but it soon began to extend in a westerly direction, and the
hotel was quickly enveloped in flames. I became seriously
alarmed and ran round North street to Eandolph street, so as to
head off' the flames and get back to my house, which was on Michi
gan avenue, on the shore of the Lake. My house was a part of
almost the last block burned.
At this time the fire was the most grandly-magnificent scene that
one can conceive. The Court-House, Post-Office, Farwell Hall,
the Tremont House, Sherman House, and all the splendid build
ings on La Stille and Wells streets, were burning with a sublimity
of effect which astounded me. All the adjectives in the language
would fail to convey the intensity of its wonders. Crowds of men,
women, and children were hurrying away, running first in one
direction, then in another, shouting and crying in their terror, and

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 59
trying to save anything the}' could lay their hands on. no mattei
how trivial in value ; while every now and then explosions, which
seemed almost to shake the solid earth, reverberated through the
air and added to the terrors of the poor people. I crossed Lake
street bridge to <lie west, rau north to Kinzie street bridge, and
crossed over east to the North Side, hoping to head off the fire. It
had, however, already swept north of me, and was travelling faster
than I could go, and I som came to the conclusion that it would be
impossible for me to get east in that direction. I accordingly re-
crossed Kinzie street bridge and went west as far as Desplaines
street, where I fortunately met a gentleman in a buggy, who very
kindly drove me over Twelfth street bridge to my house on Michi
gan avenue. It was by this time getting on toward 5 o'clock, and
the day was beginning to break. On .my arrival home I found
my horses already harnessed and my riding-horse saddled for me.
My family and some friends were all busily engaged in packing
up and in distributing sandwiches, and coffee to all who wanted
them or could spare a minute to partake of them.
"I immediately jumped on my horse and rode as fast as I
could go to The Tribune office. I found everything safe ; ,the
men were all there, and we fondly hoped that all danger was
passed as far as we were concerned, and for this reason: the
blocks in front of The Tribune building on Dearborn street, and
north on Madison street, had both been burned ; the only damage
accruing to us being confined to a cracking of some of the plate-
wlass windows from the heat. But a somewdiat curious incident
soon set us all in a state of excitement. The fire had unknown
to us crawled under the sidewalk from the wooden pavement, and
bad caught the wood-work of the barber's shop which comprises
a portion of our basement. As soon as we ascertained the extent
of the mischief we no longer apprehended any special danger,
believing, as we did, that the building was fire-proof. My asso
ciates Mr. Medill and Mr. White, were present ; and, with the

60 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
help of some of our employes, we went to work with water and
one of Babcock's Fire Extinguishers. The fire was soon put out,
and wc once more returned to business. The forms had been
sent down stairs, and I ordered our foreman, Mr. Keiler, to get
all the pressmen together, in order to issue the papers as soon as
a paragraph showing how far the fire had then extended could be
prepared and inserted. Many kind friends gathered round the
office and warmly expressed their gratification at the preservation
of our building. Believing all things safe, I again mounted.my
horse and rode south on State street to see what progress the fire
was making, and if it was moving eastward on Dearborn street.
To my great surprise and horror, I found that its current had
taken an easterly direction, nearly as far as State street, and that
it was also advancing in a northerly direction with terrible swift
ness and power. I at once saw the danger so imminently threat
ening us, and with some friends endeavored to obtain some
powder for the purpose of blowing up some buildings south of the
Palmer House. Failing in finding any powder, I proposed to
tear them down. I proceeded to Church's hardware store, and suc
ceeded in procuring about a dozen heavy axes, and handing them
to my friends, requested them to mount the buildings with me,
and literally 'chop them down.' All but two or three seemed
utterly paralyzed at this unexpected change in the course of the
fire : and even these, seeing the others stand back, were unwilling
to make the effort alone. At this moment I saw that some wooden
buildings and a new brick house west of the Palmer House had
already caught fire. I saw at a glance that The Tribune building
was doomed, and I rode back to the office and told them that
nothing more could be done to save the building, McVicker's
Theatre, or anything else in that vicinity. In this hopeless frame
of mind I rode home to look after my residence and family,
intently watching the ominous eastward movement of the flames.
I at once set to work with my family and friends to move as

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 01
much of my furniture as possible across the narrow park east of
Michigan avenue on to the shore of the lake, a distance of about
three hundred feet. At the same time I sent my family to the
house of some friends in the south part of the city for safety ; my
daughter, Miss Jessie Bross, was the last to leave us. The work
of carrying our furniture across the avenue to the shore was most
difficult and even dangerous. For six or eight hours Michigan
avenue was jammed with every description of vehicle containing
families escaping from the city, or baggage wagons laden with
goods and furniture. The sidewalks were crowded with men,
women and children, all carrying something. Some of the things
saved and carried away were Valueless. '-One woman carried an
empty bird-cage ; another, an old work-box j another, 'some dirty
empty baskets, old, useless bedding, anything that could be hur
riedly snatched up, seemed to have been carried away without judg
ment or forethought. In the meantime the fire had lapped up the
Palmer House, the theatres, and The Tribune building ; and, con
trary to our expectation, for we thought the current of the fire
would pass my residence, judging by the direction of the wind,
we saw by the advancing clouds of dense black smoke, and the
rapidly-approaching flames, that we were in imminent peril. The
fire had already worked so far south and east as to attack the
stables in the rear of the Terrace Block, between Tan Buren and
Congress streets. Many friends rushed into the houses in the
block and helped to carry out heavy furniture, such as pianos and
book-cases. We succeeded in carrying the bulk of it to the shore,
where it now lies stored ; much of it, however, is seriously dam
aged. There I and a few others sat by our household gods,
calmly awaiting the contemplation of the coming destruction of
our property — one of the most splendid blocks in Chicago. The
eleven fine houses which compose the block were occupied by
Denton Gurney, Peter L. Yoe, Mrs. Humphreys (owned by Mrs.
Walker), William Bross, P. F: W. Peck, S. C. Griggs, Tuthill

0_J HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
King, Judge U. T. Dickey, Gen. Cook, John L. Clarke, and the
Hon. J. Y. Scammon.
" The next morning I was of course out early, and found the
streets thronged with crowds of people moving in all directions.
To me the sight of the ruin, though so sad, was wonderful to a
degree, and especially being wrought in so short a space of time.
It was the destruction of the entire business portion of one of the
greatest cities in the world! Every bank and insurance office,
law offices, hotels, theatres, railroad depots, most of the churches,
aud many of the principal residences of the city a charred mass,
and property without estimate gone !
" Mr. White, my associate, like myself, had been burned out of
house and home. He had removed his family to a place of safety,
and I had no idea where he or ariy one else connected with The
Tribune office might be found. My first point to make was nat-
n rally the site of our late office; but before I reached it I met two
former tenants of our building, who told me that there was a job
printing office on Eandolph street that could probably be bought.
I immediately started for Eandolph street. While making my way
west through the crowds of people, over the Madison street bridge,
desolation stared me in the face at every step. And yet I was
much struck with the tone and temper of the people. On all
sides I saw evidences of true Chicago spirit. On all sides
men said to one another: 'Cheer up; we'll be all right
again before long ; ' and many other plucky things. Their pluck
and courage were wonderful. Every one was bright, cheerful.
pleasant, hopeful, and even inclined to be jolly in spite of the mis
ery and destitution which surrounded them and which they shar
ed. One and all said Chicago must and should be rebuilt at once.
On reaching Canal street, on my way to purchase the printing
office I htfd heard of, I was informed that, while Mr. White and
I were saving our families and as much of our furniture as we
could on Monday afternoon, Mr. Medill, seeing that The Tribune

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 63
office must inevitably be burned, sought for and purchased Ed
ward's job printing office, No. 15 Canal street, had got out a small
paper in the morning, and was then busy organizing things. One
after another all hands turned up, and by the afternoon we had
improvised the back part of the room into our editorial department,
while an old wooden box did duty as a business counter in the
front window. We were soon busy as bees, writing editorials and
paragraphs, and taking in any number of advertisements. By
evening several orders for type and fixtures were made out, and
things were generally so far advanced that I left for the depot at
Tweuty-second street with the intention of coming oh to New
York. Unfortunately, I missed ^the train and had to wait till
Wednesday morning. We shall get along as best we can till the
rebuilding of our office is finished. Going down to the ruins, I
found a large section thrown out of the north wall on Madison
street. The other three walls are standing; but the east and
west walls are so seriously injured that they must be pulled down.
The south wall is in good condition/ More of our office and the
Post Office remains standing than any other buildings that I saw.
Our building was put up to stand a thousand years, and it would
have done so but for that awful furnace of fire, fanned by an intense
gale on the windward side, literally melting it up where it stood."

CHAPTER X
It was once said by Sir Astley Cooper, to his graduating class
of medical students : " Now, gentlemen, give me leave to tell you
on what your success in life will depend. Firstly, upon a good
and constantly increasing knowledge of your profession ; second
ly, on an industrious discharge of your duties ; thirdly, upon the
preservation of your moral character. Unless you possess the
first  knowledge — you ought not to succeed, and no honest man

64 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
can wish you success. Without the second — industry — no one
will ever succeed. And unless you preserve your moral char
acter, even if it were possible that you could succeed, it would be
impossible you could be happy."
The career of Hon. Charles N. Holden furnishes a practical
illustnition of the great surgeon'3 wisdom and correctness in this
advicS, and a healthful example for the young men of our coun
try. His parents, William C. Holden and Sarah Braynard,
emigrated, soon after the war of 1812, from New Hampshire
to Fort Covington, in Northern New York, where he was born
May 13, 1S16. His father was an industrious farmer, and his
mother tin energetic helpmeet, whose life was given to the wel
fare of her family. The necessities of that early day prevented
him from devoting more than a few months yearly to the district
school or village academy, but he progressed so well in his educa
tion that at the age of twenty he himself wielded the pedagogue's
birch. After spending a year as clerk in a store, where he ac
quired a taste for business, he left home, with forty dollars in his
purse, to make a home in Chicago. July 5, 1837, he landed here
with ten dollars in his pocket, and found none of his friends, the
Woodbury?, who preceded him, and no opening for a young man
but the open country. With a brave heart in his bosom, and his
clean linen in a bundle, he started to find his uncle, a farmer in
Will County. Two days of wandering took him thither and
introduced him to Western hospitality. He immediately located
a claim, hired a breaking team of five yoke of oxen, with his
cousin, a lad of ten, as driver, and commenced life on the
prairie. That youthful driver is now President of the Common
Council of this city, one of the most prosperous, respected, and
noble among the prominent citizens of Chicago — Hon. C. C. P.
Holden. From Fort Covington, Mrs. Woodbury, subsequently Charles'
mother-in-law, removed with her mother to Chicago. .She was

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 65
the widow of Major Jesse Woodbury, who was the cousin and
associate of United States Senator Levi Woodbury, Johnson's
and Van Buren's Secretary of the Treasury, and uncle of Mrs.
Montgomery Blair. This accession to Chicago proved a magnet
to draw the young farmer to the city, where he was clerk in the
lumber office of John H. Kinzie, Esq., whose magnanimity he
recollects with gratitude. His leisure hours were spent in read
ing upon various subjects, which made him a careful observer,
and a man of wide general intelligence. In the spring of 1837,
witli three hundred dollars which he had saved, he commenced
business in a log store, near Lake Btreet bridge. Three years
afterwards he made another venture, the most successful of hi3 life,
and was married to Miss Frances Woodbury.
From his father he derived a sturdy constitution, a full mus
cular frame, and vigorous health. He seems to have but entered
-upon the prime of his manhood and powers of usefulness. He
has probably been the counsellor and friendly adviser of more
persons than any other man in his position, on account of the
trust he inspires in the coolness and judicial weight of his opin
ions. His taciturn and abstract manner sometimes leads to the
idea that he is cold, distant, and haughty. But nothing is less
true. A tender heart beats in his breast, and he weighs men in
the scale of manhood, and delights in doing good. He has given
his time and means to education with generous enthusiasm. He
was chosen President of the Board of Education, and after his re
tirement, one of the new school buildings was named in honor of
him. He had also manifested profound interest in the higher
grade of culture provided for ill the University and Baptist
Theological Seminary founded in this city. Writing thus of Mr.
Holden years ago, the author is now compelled to add that the
blow which sent the Young Giant reeling, also smote heavily
upon him and his family. It remains also to be said that he
stands erect in his sterling manhood to renew the conflict; and to*

f'6 niSTOEY OF THE GREAT FIRES
his co-laborers in the church his language is, "Wemust not begin
to retrench with the Lord's cause."

CHAPTER XI.
The administration of justice in that early day was often exceed
ingly rude, on account of the dissipated habits of the magistrates
and lawyers, whose great talents were often marred and wasted
by the excesses of frontier life. Judge Spring was one of those
brilliant men whose passions were in the ascendancy, and brought
him to a premature grave with the delirium-tremens. It was
peculiarly unfortunate that the Judge had his high-times of
spreeing just at the busiest season, when court was in session.and
matters were most urgent. It was at such a time that his career
came to a tragical end, and under the following circumstances :
At the opening of the afternoon court the Judge appeared in the
door of the room very promptly, for it was his pride to be prompt,
and on each side of him was a lawyer — Ballingall and Phillips.
They walked to their places, and the Judge crept up into his
seat, and .showed to the spectators that he was very drunk. The
court was opened in due form, and Ballingall arose, and leaning
against a post, turned to the Judge and said, "May it please your
honor," and then facing the assembly, whom he imagined to be a
jury, he added, " and gentlemen of the jury." Thereupon there
was a general smile ; and TraSy, also very tight, arose and pro
tested that the lawyer was drunk, and appealed to the Judge to
stop him. Mr. P., taken aback by this interruption, ventured an
argument. Some gentleman of the bar suggested that the Judge
and counsel looked sick, and moved an adjournment of the court
"until the next day at two. This was assented to, and the proceed-

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 67
ings came to an end. The Judge was taken home, and his wife sent
for Captain Euger, of the police, to come in and quiet her husband.
Knowing what was going on, he quietly dropped in, and founc
the Judge sitting in his dining-room, with his feet perched upon
the table, and his hand on the coat-collar of his son, a lad ten
years old. The Judge spoke to the Captain, and said he was very
glad he had come in, as he held a prisoner whom he wished to have
locked up. " On what charge ? " asked the Captain. " Contempt
of court." He promised to have the matter at once attended to, but
inquired about a case that had interested the Court in the morningj
and found the Judge clear and collected in his judgment. Mean
while Mrs. Spring is drawing near her son, and watching her
opportunity to rescue him. The drunken man commenced an
abusive assault upon her, in profane and obscene language. The
Captain again provoked a discussion, upon that morning's case,
and diverted his attention, so that the mother seized her boy and
drew him away, and thrust him out of the open door, and the
little fellow improved his opportunity to put plenty of distance
bteween himself and home. The Judge demanded her arrest for
rescuing a prisoner. The Captain said he had his eye on her, and
would see that she did not leave the house. The Judge then be
gan to speak of his own situation, and to give the most solemn
assurances that if he recovered from this attack he would never
be guilty of touching another drop of liquor, and would die a
sober man. The Captain left the house, and, returning at ten,
he found the poor man a corpse. And such was the end of nearly
all the prominent men of that early time, whose brains and culture
gave assurance of distinction, honor, and usefulness, while animal
ism drew them into shame, ignominy, and death
In refreshing contrast were the examples of many who lived
Christian lives, and did not lose their religion on the Lakes, as
they sailed to the Far West. There were godly preachers of the
Gospel, whose labors have helped to lay the foundations of the

68 niSTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
flourishing institutions which Christianity now uses as the ma
chinery of its advancement in the elevation of man's desires, and
the purification of his character.
There is something pathetic in the subjoined words, spoken by
an old Methodist minister, in 1S37, at "Lake Michigan Huddle,"
then the nucleus of what was but recently the "unrivalled me
tropolis of Chicago." He was a venerable . person of seventy
years, with profuse hair as white as snow. His face, however,
was without a wrinkle; and, what was very remarkable, his skin
was as fair and smooth as that of a young man of five-and-twenty.
The building in which he spoke was constructed of rough pine
boards, but it was crowded by devout and not irresponsive or
silent listeners.
The only thing about the speaker that was at all weak or fal
tering was his voice. It was sufficiently distinct, yet it trembled,
and if anything, rather added to the effect of the ending sentences
which he uttered. In closing a brief description of the dangers
that had beset him in the Far West, and of the benignity of the
power which had sustained him through every trial, he said : —
"How often — how often — have I swam my horse across raid-
night rivers, carrying the glad tidings of salvation to settlements
in the wilderness, when the fearful cry of the wolves rang in my
ears, and the watch-fires . of the hostile Indians blazed beneath
the giant pines ! How often have I wandered through the tall
«... » O
grass of the prairies, day after day, and night after night, with
my overcoat for my evening pillow, and the star-gemmed vault.
of heaven for the curtains of my rest ! I was sad, but I was com
forted. I was thirsty, but my spirit had refreshment. I was
weary, but the arm of the Omnipotent sustained my fainting
footsteps, and I hud my head upon the bosom of Peace. I
was far from man — in silence — alone ; and yet not alone, for
my God was with me — the Saviour was by my side. . . .
" This is the hist time, dear friends, that my circuit will bring

THE COURT-HOUSE BBLL.

CHICAGO IN 1836— KTNZrB'S HOUSE.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 71
me before you. In a little while I shall depart hence, and be no
more seen."
Here the speaker clasped his hands, looked upward through his
tearful eyes, and closed with the verse —
" Then in a nobler, sweeter song,
HI sing thy power to save,
When this poor lisping, stammering tongue
Lies silent in the grave 1 "

72 HISTORY OF THE GBEAT FIXES

hi.— the young giant i

CHAPTER TTT
The infant, conceived by Providence in the womb of Time,
came to birth amidst the pangs and throes of travail, grew feebly
and discouragingly, and even had no special promise of greatness to
ordinary eyes, until it sprang into sudden manhood and girded
its loins for a great destiny. In 1850 there were less than thirty
thousand people here; in 1851 the increase had been six thou
sand ; and from that time the Young Giant advanced with amazing
strides, distancing all competitors, and hastening to overtake the
oldest and most prosperous cities of the Union. In 1857 there
were gathered beside the offensive waters of this stagnant stream
100,000 human souls. In ISTl, by census returns carefully made
out, and giving the names and local habitations, there had con
gregated on this level plain 334,000 persons, and Chicago was
the fourth city of this country. When was there such a growth
in so short a period, and a progress so real and substantial? Peo
ple who immigrated hitherto make money and return to their
Eastern homes to enjoy their fortunes, came to regard this city
as the most desirable home, for themselves and their children, t»
be found on the green earth. The East was flooding in upon us
to admire, and praise, and covet our situation, privileges, and op
portunities. Nature had been improved by art. Chicago no
longer lay deeply engnlphed in water half the year. Her citi
zens were not compelled to drink water pumped from the edge

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 73
of the Lake and half filled with little fish, or particles of earth
and filth. The smell of " Bridgeport " was a painful memory
only, and the river itself had become sweet and clear. Common
schools, academies, colleges, seminaries, universities, societies for
the encouragement of art, and science, and history ; churches and
missions for the extension of religion and morality ; galleries,
opera-houses, theatres, libraries, and every luxury and appoint
ment of modem times for the cultivation and entertainment of
men, had here their best . representatives Jand specimens, or the
beginnings that gave noblest promise. ' The progress of improve
ments, partially arrested by the ^war^ received new* impulse"wheh
the cloud rolled over our heads,' atid the sky 'again beamed with
the radiance of peace. ,-!-'.«>f<r.^a.-y«:H't..«,*^.-ir«- .:.
The following is a summary of the Various branches of trade
which have ministered to the city's wealth 'and population. The
total exhibits the receipts and shipments of the articles named, for
the year 1870, together with the total valuation of receipts.
The estimated value of the receipts of the articles named for
the year 1871 is as follows :

ARTICLE. VALUE.
Flour  $8,000,000
Wheat  18,000,000
Corn  13,000,000
Oats  4,000,000
Pork  2,000,000
Dressed Hogs  6,000,000
Live Hogs  45,000,000
Tobacco  6,000,000
Cattle  22,000,000
Coal  8,000,000
Lumber  16,000,000
Iron Ore  15,000,000
Shingles  '• 2,500,000
Lath.  1,000,000

74 niSTOEY OF THE GEEAT FIEES
ARTICLE. VALUE.
Highwines  $6,000,000
Boots and Shoes  8,000,000
Drugs and Chemicals  4,000,000
Hardware  5,000,000
Jewelrv  6,000,000
Dry Goods  35,000,000
Groceries  53,000,000
The total trade is estimated at $400,000,000, showing an in
crease of some nine per cent, on a gold basis over that of the
previous year. We had before the fire seventeen large grain
elevators, having an aggregate capacity of 11,580,000 bushels,
the largest accommodating 1,700,000 bushels. s
To carry on this immense traffic, eighteen banks were in oper
ation, with an aggregate capital of nearly $10,000,000, with nearly
$17,000,000 of deposits. The total amount of checks passing
through the Clearing House during the year 1870 was $810,-
000,000. To accommodate this traffic and the vast travel, not less than
100 passenger trains and 120 freight trains arrive and depart
daily, while full seventy-five vessels load and unload eveiy day
at our wharves.
For the municipal year of 1S70-71, the total assessed valuation
of the city was $277,000,000, of which $224,000,000 was real and
$53,000,000 personal. This, however, represents scarcely more
than half of tho actual value, which was in excess of $500,000,000.
The taxes collected for that year were $3,000,000, besides nearly
an equal amount for special improvements, grading, paving, and
curbing. The personal property was classed as follows: Indi
vidual personal property, $43,647,920; bank personal property,
$7,511,000 ; vessels, $1,1S3,430. The whole number of peraoitt
assessed for taxes on personal property was 14,633.
The area of the city, according to the last arrangement of

IN CHICAGO AND IHE -WEST. 75
boundaries, including parks, public squares, etc., was about 35
square miles, or 22,400 acres. The number of dwellings, accord
ing to the last enumeration, was nearly 60,000, of which about
40,000 were wood.

CHAPTEB XHL
,*•. War came upon our country, bringing terror and agony ,t6 ,
the hearts of all good men ; but, ite results, under Abraham Lin- '
.coin's wise and honest administration.-'were so beneficent ana
sublime, that we cheerfully bear our .losses and burdens, and feel
that the sacrifices so freely and grandly offered on the altar of
patriotism, were a sweet savor to God and an honor to this cen
tury of progress. Chicago gave to the army tliirty thousand brave
men, immense treasures, and a perpetual benefit. Iu our midst
was established, with perfect confidence in the people's loyalty, a
camp for rebel prisoners, named, in honor of our great fellow-
citizen, the lamented Stephen A. Douglas, Camp Douglas. Un
like the Ark of God in the house of Obed-Edom, which brought a
blessing, this establishment came near proving, like the wooden
horse with which the Greeks captured Troy, our destruction and
the loss of the Union. The story is told by Eddy, in " The Patri
otism of Illinois." CONSPIRACY.
Tidings of a great organization, opposed to the Republic and
friendly to the Confederacy, with officers and five hundred thou
sand enrolled members, were floating about. Their object was to
rise together in various States of the Northwest, and co-operate
with the Rebel armies from the South. " The first objective
point was Camp Douglas, the real strategic importance of which

76 niSTOEY OF THE GEEAT FIRES
was in the twofold fact that it was the place where eight thou
sand rebel prisoners were held in durance, and that the abolition
city of Chicago would afford admirable foraging ground. The
prisoners were to be liberated and joined by Canadian refugees,
Missouri bushwhackers, and the five thousand members of the
order in Chicago — in all a force of nearly twenty thousand men —
which would be a nucleus for the conspirators in other parts of
Illinois ; these being joined by the prisoners liberated from other
camps, and members of the order from other States, would form
an army a hundred thousand strong. So fully had everything,
been foreseen and provided for, that the leaders expected to gather
and organize this vast body of men within the space of a fort
night ! The United States could bring into the field no force
capable of withstanding the progress of such an army. The con
sequences would be that the whole character of the war would be
changed — its theatre would be shifted from the border to the
heart of the Free States ; and Southern independence, and tho
beginning at the North of that process of disintegration so confi
dently counted on by the rebel leaders at the outbreak of hostili
ties, would have followed. It was a bold scheme, and might
have wrought mischief.
" General Onnc had been succeeded in command of Camp
Douglas by Colonel Sweet, of Wisconsin, agallant officer, who had
been severely wounded in the shoulder at Perryville, and disabled
for field duty. The camp, which included about sixty acres of
sandy soil, was inclosed by a board fence an inch thick, and four
teen feet high. The garrison ostensibly consisted of two regi
ments of "Veteran Reserves, but could not muster more than seven
hundred men tit for the duty of guarding eight thousand prisoners.
Among these were men of noted daring and ferocity — Morgan's
freebooters, Texan rangers, guerillas — reckless, and ready for
adventure. Many of the minor offices of the camp were per
formed by prisoners, who were thus in possession of the resources

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 77
of the commandant. Letters passing through the camp post-office,
enigmatically worded, first roused his suspicions. Subsequently
he became convinced that it was designed to take advantage of a
great convention to be held in the city, and convene the outside
allies, who might at that time come to the city without suspicion,
and carry out the plan. Prompt measures were taken, such as
convinced the leaders that an attempt would be dangerous, as it
was supposed. The Presidential election was approaching, and
the commandant prepared to go home to take part in the canvass,
when he felt, he knew not why, that he must stay at his post, and
did so. The next day showed ^hy'. he was needed. Another'
writer makes this statement f'Ori'the 2d of November," a well-
known citizen of St. Louis, openly a secessionist, but secretly a loyal
man, acting as a detective for the Government, left that city in
pursuit of a criminal. He followed him to Springfield, traced him
from there to Chicago, and on the morning of November 4th,
about the hour the commandant had the singular impression I
have spoken of, arrived in the latter city. He soon learned that
the bird had again flown.
" ' While passing along the street (I now quote from his report to
the Provost-Marshal General of Missouri), and trying to decide
what course to pursue — whether to follow this man to New York,
or to return to St. Louis — I met an old acquaintance, a member,
of the order of American Knights, who informed me that Marma-
duke was in Chicago. After conversing with him a while I started
up the street, and about one block further on met Dr. E. W.
Edwards, a practising physician in Chicago (another old acquaint
ance), who asked me if I knew of Southern soldiers being in town.
I told him I did; that Marmadnke was there. He seemed very
much astonished, and asked how I knew. I told him. He
laughed, and then said that Marmaduke was at his house, under
the assumed name of Burling, and mentioned, as a good joke, that
he had a British passport, vised by the United States Consul, un-

78 HISTORY OF THE GEEAT FIEES
der that name. I gave Edwards my card to hand to Marmaduke
(who was another old acquaintance), and told him I was stopping
at the Briggs House.
" ' That same evening I again met Dr. Edwards on the street,
going to my hotel. He said Marmaduke desired to see me, and
I accompanied him to his house. There, in the course of a con
versation, Marmaduke told me that he and several rebel officers
were in Chicago to co-operate with other parties in relieving the
prisoners of Camp Douglas and other prisoners, and in inaugurate
ing a rebellion at the North. He said the movement was under >
the auspices of the order of American Knights (to which orders
the society of the Illini belonged), and was to begin operations j
by an attack on Camp Douglas on election day.'
"The detective did not know the commandant, but he soon made
his acquaintance, and told him the story. ' The young man,' he
says, 'rested his head upon his hand, and looked as if he had lost
his mother,' and well he might! A mine had opened at his feet;
with but eight hundred men in the garrison, it was to be sprung
upon him. Only seventy hours were left! What would he not
give for twice as many ? Then he might secure reinforcements.
lie walked the room for a time in silence ; then, turning to the de
tective, said, ' Do you know where the other leaders are ? ' ' I do
not.' 'Can't you find out from Marmaduke?' 'I think not. He
said what he did say voluntarily. If I were to question him he
would suspect me.' That was true, and Marmaduke was not of
the stuff that betrays a comrade on compulsion. His arrest,
therefore, would profit nothing, and might hasten the attack for
which the commandant was so poorly prepared. He sat down
and wrote a hurried dispatch to his general. Troops! troops! for
God's sake, troops! was its burden. Sending it oft' by a courier
— the telegraph told tales — he rose, and again walked the room
in silence. After a while, with a heavy heart, the detective said,
' Good night,' and left him."

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 79
From another quarter he obtained a full statement of the
scheme, which was gigantic in detail, and contemplated a general
uprising through the North, while Hood should move upon Nash
ville, Buckner upon Louisville, and Price upon St. Louis, and
the blow was to be struck in Chicago on the night of the 8th of
November. The commandant took prompt measures, secured the police, and
arranged his plans, and at two in the morning made his descent.
When daylight came a hundred of the suspected leaders were in-
custody. The official report' of^tho commandant says;: i;"Have •
made during the night the following arrests of rebel _ office^,?
escaped prisoners of war, and citizens ill connection with them .-:—;}
" Morgan's Adjutant-General, Colonel „& St/Xegerjjrrenfell,-'
in company with J. T. Shanks (the Texan), an escaped prisoner
of war, at Richmond House ; Colonel Vincent Marmaduke,
brother of General Marmaduke ; Brigadier-General Charles
Walsh, of the Sons of Liberty ; Captain Cantrill, of Morgan's
command ; Charles Traverse (Butternut). Cantrill and Traverse
were arrested in Walsh's house, in wliich were found two cart
loads of large-size revolvers loaded and capped, 200 stand of
loaded muskets and ammunition. Also seized two boxes of guns
concealed in a room inthe city. Also arrested Buck Morris, Treas
urer of the Sons of Liberty, having complete proof of his assisting
Shanks to escape, and plotting to release prisoners at this camp.
" Most of these rebel officers were in the city on the same
errand in August last, their plan being to raise an insurrection
and release the prisoners of war at this camp. There are many
strangers and suspicious persons in this city, believed to be
guerrillas and rebel soldiers. Their plan was to attack the camp
on election night. All prisoners arrested are in camp. Cap
tains Nelson and A. C. Coventry, of the police, rendered very
efficient service. B. J. Sweet, Colonel Commanding.
" Caui» Douglass, Not. 7th, 4 a.m."

80 IIISTOKY OF THE GKEAT FIKE8
Tlic city was horrified, and none knew certainly that the storm
would not yet burst. Husbands and fathers shuddered at the
thought of the city given up to the brutal control of that mob of
eight thousand prisoners, and their more brutal allies.
Never were so many citizens armed in Chicago as that day.
Patrols rode to and fro, and the city wore the appearance of a
military camp. The election progressed peacefully, additional
arrests were made, and arms seized ; but the life was gone, and the
conspiracy collapsed.
The sealed findings of the Court which tried the prisoners
arrested for conspiracy, were as follows : " Charles Walsh, Brig-
adier-General of the Sons of Liberty, guilty, and sentenced to
three years' imprisonment with hard labor in the Ohio State
Penitentiary; Buckner L. Morris, not guilty; Vincent Marma-
dulce. not guilty ; G. St. Leger Grenfell, guilty of both charges
and specifications, and sentenced to the extremest penalty, death;
Raphael S. Semmes, guilty, and sentenced to two years' imprison
ment. The prisoner Anderson, on the 19th of February, com
mitted suicide by shooting himself while confined in McLean
Barracks ; and on the 16th of the same month, Traverse, alias Dan
iels, escaped from the custody of a careless guard, during a
momentary recess of the Court, in the Court House." Thus
another of the city's vicissitudes was safely passed, and the way
was open to swift and sure prosperity.

CHAPTER XTV.

Among the first necessities recognized by the Creator in pro
viding a home for II is creatures upon the globe, is an abundant
supply of pure water, which flows from myriads of fountains,
sparkles in running brooks, rushes in rivers, tosses in lakes, and

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 81
lies in the bosom of the earth everywhere under their feet, ready to
bubble up at their stroke. There is danger in some new countries,
or sections of primitive regions, that settlers rely on the first basin
below the surface for their drinking water, and hence imbibe slow
but certain poison from the vegetable matter accumulated through
ages. This often accounts for the sickness wliich attacks persons
in becoming acclimated in the West. When the city of Chicago
began its rapid growth it was felt that a prime necessity was
good water, and the subject received careful attention, which
resulted in the use of the Lake water, which is clear and health-,
ful in the highest degree, and cool enough for use as a beverage
in the heat of summer. It was aVfirst pumped from wells at the'
shore ; but impurities unavoidably^ filtered ;in from the wash of
the shore, the fish that swarmed in millions, and the sewerage of
the river. Then the gigantic plan was conceived and executed
of drawing the water from the bosom of the Lake through a
tunnel, connecting with a well two miles out from shore, and
directly east of the old works, by which arrangement boundless sup
plies of the crystal fluid would be accessible. Other cities bring
the water of rivers and lakes for many miles through pipes into
reservoirs, from whence distribution is made to the population ;
but this plan superseded any such necessity, and gave us an ele
ment of health and power which must forever contribute to the
advancement of this city. Her Young Giant can never drink up
the contents of Lake Michigan, however vast his wants become
in the great future.
It must be a source of interest to the public to follow the pro
gress of this new enterprise, and see the mode by which so many
million gallons of this fluid are furnished daily to our people for
the innumerable purposes of life. And while the reader wonders
at the boldness and energy, skill and success of the projectors and
contractors, he will also perceive how futile were all the efforts of
man to provide against such a catastrophe as that which prostrat-

82 niSTOKY OF TOE GKEAT FIEES
ed us into the dust, and left us dependent — helpless in the honr
of direst extremity, when fires were raging and human months
were thirsting. The works were commenced in 1S52. In 1863
the daily average consumption of water was 6,500,000 gallons,
and it had immensely increased in 1S71, when a new and more
powerful engine was in process of erection within the buildings
where the fire wrought such iniscliievous effects on the morning
of October 9th. A description of these works is given us by
Engineer Cregier, who has been in charge from the beginning, o'r
since the old Hydraulic works at the foot of Lake street were
abandoned. They are situated on the North Side, and bounded
by Chicago avenue, Pine street, Pearson street, and the Lake.
They have a frontage on Pine street of 21S feet, and extend
from the Lake west a distance of 571 feet. They are connected
with reservoirs, throughout all divisions of the city, by immense
iron pipes laid below the frost and under the river, and through
those the engines propel streams of water day and night ; and
under the pressure of the column in the water tower, it rises to
the upper stories and becomes one of the conveniences of city life,
the loss of wliich was keenly felt during the week after the fire.
"The style of architecture is castellated Gothic. The dimen
sions of the engine-room are one hundred and fortv-two feet long,
sixty feet wide, and thirty-six feet in the clear from the main
floor to ceiling. A projection of twenty-four by fifty-six feet forms
the centre of the main front. This portion is divided into two
stories. The upper part is devoted to drawing-rooms and sleep
ing apartments for the engineers. The lower part is divided by
the main entrance, the tioor of which is tiled. On the south side
of the vestibule is a large room designed for commissioner's or
reception room. On the north side arc offices and other conveni
ences for engineers. All the walls are two feet thick. The walls
of the interior of the main building are rough cast, blocked off
representing cut-stone work. The ceiling is divided into square

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 83
panels, formed by projecting moulded purlins, supported by large
Gothic brackets resting on heavy corbels built in the wall. The
roof of the main building is constructed of massive timbers, cov
ered with slate and pierced witli the necessary ventilators, etc.
Midwtiy between floor and ceiling, and extending around the
entire interior space of the building, there is a handsome and sub
stantial gallery or balcony, protected by fancy Gothic iron railing,
the whole resting upon brackets of like style built into the walls.
From this point a pleasing view of the operations of the engines
is obtained. This gallery is reached by two flights of spiral Stair
ways constructed entirely of iron. '$t Below the main floor of the
principal building there is a space extending over the whole area,
and nine feet high in the clear. Here are located the pumps, de
livery mains, stop-valves, etc., of the several engines, also store
rooms and other conveniences. From the floor of this large room
the pump-wells connected with the Lake Tunnel descend. The
south well, intended for additional engines, was sunk to place in
October last. The form and constructions of this curb, as well
as the mode of sinking it to its place, is similar to that adopted
for the north well ; it is, however, larger. The outside diameter
is forty-four and one-third feet at the bottom, forty-three and one-
third feet at the top, and twenty-two feet from the top of the
cast-iron shoe to the top of the coping. The outside has a batter
of six inches. The vertical bond consisted of forty-eight one-and-
a-half-inch bolts.
The boiler-rooms are placed nineteen feet apart, and are locat
ed in the rear of the main building. They are forty -six and a
half feet long, thirty-six feet wide, and twenty-five feet from the
floor to the ceiling. The floor is of stone, and the roof is wholly
of iron and slate, thus rendering them fire-proof."
If so, Mr. Cregier, why did they succumb so readily when they
were most needed ? The answer might be returned, that this ex
traordinary conflagration melted iron into shapeless masses, and

84 HISTORY OF THE GEEAT FIRES
consumed stones into dust, and mocked at fire-proofs. The facts,
probablv, are these. The ventilators in the roof were left open,
and the win"- shower of sparks, cinders, and flames poured down
these inlets into the engine-room, where vast timbers were built
into stagings for the accommodation of mechanics in placing the
new engine, drove out the workmen and watchmen, and con
signed everything to speedy destruction. There should have
been no wood in the construction of the interior.; the win
dows should have had iron shutters, though they be unsightly;
and the ventilators and all openings in the roof should have been
covered with wire screens, impervious to fire, and the men in
charge should have been early reinforced with ample resources
for their entire safety amidst all possible contingencies and exi
gencies. How clear all this becomes after the event !
THE WATER-TOWER
" Is the most imposing feature among the whole mass of buildings
comprising the works, and is without doubt the most substantial
and elaborate structure of the kind on this continent. Its centre
is 106 feet west of the main buildings, upon ground purchased
for the purpose in 1865; 16S piles, capped with 12-inch oak
timbers, the spaces filled with concrete, constitute the foundation
up to the surface of the water ; from thence to a point six feet be
low grade, solid, massive dimension-stones laid in cement inter
vene. At this point the gate, pit, and arched ways on each cor
ner for mains (large pipes of iron), are formed. The base of the
tower is 22 feet square. The exterior of the shaft is octagonal,
and rises 154 feet from the ground to the top of the stone-work,
which terminates in a battlemented cornice. The whole is sur
mounted by an iron cupola (not yet finished), pierced with numer
ous windows, from whence may be obtained a magnificent view
of the lake, the city, and surrounding country. The exterior of
the tower is divided into five sections. The first section is 40

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 85
feet square, exclusive of battlements, turrets, etc., and surrounds
the base of the shaft, forming a continuous vestibule nine feet
wide on the four sides, with a grand entrance on each side.
The floor and roof of this portion is of massive stone. The
roof forms a balcony. The walls are plastered and blocked off
like those of the engine-room. The ceiling is groined and cor
niced, and the sides are ornamented with tablet drinking foun
tains, etc. The other, sections of the exterior recede from each
other in graceful proportion, each haying turreted cornice, battle*
ments, etc.
The bottom of the exterior is hexagonal ; here the base-piece
of stand-pipe (a casting weighing jsix tons) ' i_v placed, having
six openings, supplied with 30-inch gates, to which the water
mains are connected. From this base, ar36-inch wrought-iron
stand-pipe ascends to a height of 138 feet. Around this pipe is an
easy and substantial spiral stairway leading to the cupola on the
top, and lighted throughout with alternating windows.
The whole structure is thoroughly fire-proof, being constructed
wholly of stone, brick, and iron.
THE LAKE TUNNEL.
The work was commenced at the land-shaft on the 17th of
March, 1864, the delay since the date of the contract having been
caused by waiting for the cast-iron cylinders for the first 30 feet.
These cylinders are nine feet infernal diameter, 1£ inches thick,
and in three sections, each ten feet long. The bottom of the low
est section has a cutting edge. The sections were united by inter
nal flanges, bolts, and rust-joints. The top flange of the cylinder
was fitted to receive an air lock, in case that should have proved
necessary in the prosecution of the work.
It was intended originally to make the lining of the land-shaft
of brick, clear to the top, but the Board feared trouble from the
quicksand which extended down about 14 feet from the surface,

86 HISTOKY OF THE GEEAT FLEES
and particularly as the inlet through which the city was supplied
was not only in this quicksand, but very near the shaft. Owing
to the want of suitable pumps, there was unexpected delay in
sinking the cylinders, but as soon as the clay had been penetrated
a few feet all serious difficulty ended, and the remainder of the
shaft was sunk to its proper depth, through clay of various de
grees of tenacity, from very soft near the top to indurated near
the bottom. The shaft was walled up eight feet in diameter, with
masonry 12 inches thick, to the bottom of the cast-iron, the inside
of which was laid with masonry to the top of the lowest section.
At the bottom of the shaft there was a sump six feet deep, be
low the bottom of the tunnel. This had to be emptied generally
twice a day during the whole progress of the work, as the quan
tity of water discharged from a spring there continued very uni
form. From the bottom of the shaft a drift, at first only intended to
be temporary, was made about 50 feet long westward, with a
chamber at the end, with fixtures for mounting a transit. The
regular tunnel work eastward was commenced May 26th, 1864.
Here much pains were taken to introduce a curved surface in
the masonry, between the shaft and upper side of the tunnel, and
it was satisfactorily accomplished. The entrance to the tunnel
was made six feet in diameter, and tapered down to five feet in a
distance of twenty feet. The masonry on this portion was made
of three shells of brick-work, each four inches thick, with cement
joints half an inch thick between. The rest of the tunnel proper
was lined witli two shells of brick-work. It was intended at first
to fill the cavities around the outside of the brick-work with well-
tamped earth, but it was soon found impossible to get this done
in a satisfactory manner. For this reason, solid masonry was
almost immediately substituted for the tamped earth. The upper
arch was built on a ribbed centre of boiler iron, which diminished
the open space inside of the tunnel only 4J inches, and thus

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IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST.' 89
allowed the cars which conveyed away the earth to go up to tho
face of the excavation, usually kept from ten to tweety feet ahead
of the masonry. The iron centre was 30 inches long, in the
direction of the tunnel. About two feet in length of masonry
was usually made at a time, and, as a rule, it was found safe to
strike tho- centre within fifteen minutes after the arch was keyed.
At first it was supposed necessary to excavate nearly a foot
above the top of the brick-work, in. order to give the masons
room to build the upper arch; but very soon it was found that
they could build it perfectly well, generally," without making the
excavation any larger than the space required for the brick-work.
This was done by driving the last fonr or five top courses of brick
into well-tempered cement mortar first thrown into the .cavity.
The driving of the bricks effectually filled up the spaces which
could not otherwise have been reached by" hand. The ends of
the masonry were left " toothing," and thus furnished a guide in
driving the bricks on the upper arch. The lower arch was built
by templets or patterns, as ordinary sewers are, and usually kept
some six feet in advance of the upper arch, to allow of greater
convenience iu loading the cars with earth, which the miners had
to keep at some distance behind them, and which the shovellers
could not throw into the cars very well, when they stood under
the brick-work.
The excavation was generally through stiff, blue clay, but with
the irregularities of character peculiar to the drift. It very sel
dom required bracing when not left to support itself more than
thirty-six hours. Sometimes sana-pockets were met, and when
those were over the upper arch they would empty themselves
partly, leaving cavities to be filled with masonry, but these
were seldom of much importance. Sometimes small bodies of
quicksand were encountered, but they occurred only in pockets,
ar.d not in strata, and therefore gave no serious trouble. Some
times the clay would be soft enough for a miner to run his
6

90 niSTOKY OF THE GREAT FIRES
arm into it, but with the exception of requiring a little more
¦'trimming" for the masonry, this gave no trouble. Sometimes
boulders weighing several hundred pounds were met, and inter
fered a little with the regular progress of the work, but seldom
more than a little.
The greatest and most dangerous difficulty met with was one
that was not anticipated at first, and that was inflammable and
explosive gas. Early in the progress of the work several acci
dents occurred from this cause, but fortunately without fatal re
sults to the workmen, though there were several narrow escapes.
Very soon the miners learned to detect the proximity of cavities
containing this gas from the sound produced by striking over
them with their picks. When a cavity was thus detected, it was
bored into with a small auger, and the gas ignited as soon as it
began to escape. In this way explosions were prevented which
otherwise took place when large bodies of gas were suddenly al
lowed to mix with the air. The explosion that did occur were
slight in character, but left a body of flame in the upper part of
the tunnel. At such times the miners fell with their faces to the
ground, and thus escaped without any greater injury than singed
beards and eyelashes and blistered faces, except in the first severe
case, when a miner was badly burnt. At this time the gas kept
the miners out of the tunnel three days.
CHAMBERS.
With trifling exceptions, this work was prosecuted day and night
bv means of two sets of miners and one of masons, working eight
hours each in every twenty-four, for six days in the week, till the
lfith of October, when a point about 750 feet from the centre of
the shaft was reached. Here it was determined to make two
temporary chambers, one on each side of the tunnel, with which
they were to be connected by small and short openings. It took
< bout one week to construct those chantbers and connections, all

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST.. 91
of which were supported by timbers and planks. In the tunnel,
and at the connection between the chambers, a turn-table was
placed. This arrangement permitted not only the passage of
cars by each other, but also making up of trains, which soon be
came an absolute necessity for the economical and rapid execu
tion of the work. By means of such chambers it was practicable
to carry on the work a mile or more out under the lake as fast as
could be done near the bottom of the land shaft; in fact, the
progress upwards of a mile out was really greater than it was
near the shore, owing to the greater skill and experience acquired
on the way. A gap of about six feel in' the masonry of the tun
nel was left at the connection between these, the first chambers
to be built in after the completion of the rest of the work. After
two or three weeks several cracks, entirely around the tunnel,
were discovered in the brick work within a distance of about
twelve feet on each side of the turn-table. There were various
conjectures as to the cause of these cracks, for up to this time re
peated careful observations had shown no indications whatever of
any movement in the masonry after the keying of the upper
arch. Occasionally, in soft ground, the sides of the lower arch
had been pressed in an inch or two before the upper arch was
built, but no transverse crack was ever discovered except those
near the chambers. The conclusion was that they were probably
caused by the yielding of the earth in a pit of the turn-table ; yet
no settlement in the masonry was observed.
The second set of chambers was made one thousand feet be
yond the first, and the character of the work, as well as the mode
of carrying it on, continued the same, except that the use of mulea
was substituted for men in the transportation of earth and ma
terials for the masonry. Stout abutments were built on each side
of this turn-table to prevent the cracking of the brick work, ob
served on each side of the first, but just the same number and
character of cracks occurred, notwithstanding.

!)2 HISTOKY OF THE GREAT FIRES
It then became evident that these cracks were owing to a
tendency in clay to move, or " creep," as it is sometimes expressed,
towards any cavity made in it. The gap left at the connection
between the chambers being only temporarily supported with
wood, could not wholly prevent this creeping movement. It was
therefore determined afterwards to continue the brick work ovei
and around the next turn-table, and to brick around the connec
tions between the chambers, groining carefully in their inter
sections with the tunnel. After this method of constructing the
chamber connections was carried out, all trouble from cracks
ceased. In this manner, placing the sets of chambers about a
thousand feet apart, the work was continued to about a mile and
a half from the land shaft.
The character of the work continued throughout very much
the same.
The greatest progress made during any one week was ninety-
three feet. Only once was a boulder so large as to require blast
ing met with. There was a little nervousness as to the effect of
a blast under the Lake, but it caused no serious disturbance either
of the ground or the masonry. VENTILATION.
The ventilation of the tunnel was effected by means of tin
pipes, through wliich the foul air was drawn out and fresh air
consequently drawn in through the main opening. At first a
six-inch pipe was used, and this was connected with the furnace
of the hoisting engine. Later it became necessary to provide
an engine and fan expressly for the purpose, and to put in larger
pipes. Eight-inch ones were introduced. It was difficult to
keep the joints of the pipes, wliich were only of ordinary tin,
very tight, especially near the chambers, where the mules struck ,
thcin with their heads in turning. Still they answered a very

TN CHICAGO AND TOE WEST. 93
good purpose, and the air, a mile and a half out, was about as
good as it was much nearer to the land shaft.
Ordinarily there was so much smoke from the miner's lamps
and vapor from the heat of the workmen, as to make it impos
sible to see distinctly enough to ran the lines and levels required
to keep the tunnel in the right direction. On Sunday nights, how
ever, and on other holidays, the air became so clear as to cause
sperm candles to burn with a beautiful silver brightness, visible
sometimes two thousand feet, y '•'.# ¦'.''" --'."'
¦ ¦¦;¦ "'i^f.r*'^ I-:- "' '¦ :,:" ^'•">
ALIGNMENT.
To determine the position of the lake 6haft and the line of the
tunnel, much pains were taken to establish an accurate base on
the shore for the purpose of triangulation. Owing to the build
ings in the way, this was no easy task. For the alignment of the
tunnel, an astromonical transit of four-inch aperture, by Pike,
of New York, was mounted on a tower built for the purpose,
166 feet westward of the land-shaft, and sometimes used in the
chamber below already described. To aid in placing the lake-
shaft beyond all doubt in the line of the tunnel, a six-inch tube
was sunk 2S0 feet eastward of the land shaft, after the masonry
had been carried beyond that point. By plumbing up through
this tube, a "range" of great accuracy for such a purpose
was obtained. The astromonical transit could only be used
on the tower above, or in the chamber below. As soon as the
work had been carried so far that the sperm candles used in the
alignment could not be seen at "the face" of the work, the cen
tre line was produced from point to point by means of a gonio
meter with two telescopes, which, when in perfect adjustment,
could be made to "reverse" on the same point, which was thus
proved to be in a straight line with the instrument and the
" back-sight." Mr. Kroeschell, an educated and experienced mining engineer,

94 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRK8
was principal inspector of mining, and directed the " brimming"
shift, wliich worked the eighr hours immediately before the
masons commenced. He set the " patterns " by which the ma
sonry was built, producing for this purpose the lines and levels
given by the engineer in charge, by means of plummets, ranges
with sperm candles, and spirit levels. His shift consisted usually
of four miners and four other men, who at first pushed the loaded
cars to and from the shaft, but afterwards to and from the nearest
chambers, from which they were hauled by mules to the shaft
and back again, either empty or loaded with brick, cement, or
sand. Only two of the miners usually were regularly trained men,
the others being but picked laborers, who soon learned to use
mining tools in the clay.
The general custom was for two miners to work together for
ten or fifteen minutes at a time with more than common vigor,
and then rest.
The pushers loaded the excavated earth into the cars, brought
as near the face as possible on a movable truck.
This shift, besides frequently carrying the face of the excava
tion five feet ahead, did all the trimming necessary to form the
interior of the excavation as nearly as possible to the exact out
side shsipe of the masonry. The next or mason's shift, usually
consisted of three masons, one mortar mixer, and four to six
helpers, according to the distance between the chamber and the
work. The water for mixing the cement mortar was all brought
from the top of the land shaft in tank-cars, made especially for
the purpose. Tho average length of masonry laid by this shift
was twelve feet a day for the entire distance, but for the first
2,000 feet the greatest progress scarcely equalled this rate. After
wards it sometimes reached 15-^ feet a day ; but this latter rate
could only be attained by putting on a couple of miners during
the shift ; but this course enabled the contractors to advance tho

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 95
whole work two feet more a day than they could have done
without it.

PLAN AND CONSTRUCTION OF THE CRIB.
Preparations for commencing operations at the outer end of
the tunnel were early made, but owing to disappointments of the
contractors in getting the necessary timber for the crib, and other
delays, the foundations of the outer, and only one it was found
necessary to build, were not laid till May, 1864. This was done
on the north side of the river, about |800 feet west of the Light-
House.  ¦'$&&%*< • : ' ' '.¦¦¦^¦7,1-
The dimensions of the crib, as ;required by the specifications,
are fifty-eight feet horizontal measurement on each of the five
sides, and forty feet high. The inner portion, or well, has sides
parallel with the outer ones, and twenty-two feet long each, leav
ing the distance between the inner and outer faces of the crib, or
thickness of the breakv/ater, twenty-five feet. This breakwater
was built on a flooring of twelve-inch white pine timber laid close
together. The outer and inner vertical faces and the middle
wall between them were all of solid twelve-inch white pine tim
ber, except the upper ten feet of the outside, which was of white
oak, to withstand better the action of ice. Across the angles of the
outer and middle walls were placed brace walls about ten feet
long, of solid twelve-inch timber. The middle wall on each side
of the crib was continued straight through to the outside wall.
Connecting the outer and inner walls, and passing through the
middle wall, were cross-ties of twelve-inch timber, placed hori
zontally about nine feet, and vertically one foot apart. The ends
of the timbers, where they passed through the outer and inner
walls, were dovetailed, and notched half and half into the timbers
of the middle wall.
All of the timbers used were carefully inspected and well
jointed, which was mostly done by hewing, though nearly all ot

96 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
it was first sawed. It was found impossible, however, to get
sawed timber of perfectly uniform dimensions. The floor tim
bers were hud on ground timbers placed directly under the outer,
middle and inner walls of the crib. Eound one and a half inch
bolts, thirty-.. ix inches long, with large washers at the bottom,
were placed vertically, four feet apart, to hold the ground and
floor timbers firmly to the first two courses of wall timbers above
the flooriri"-. All of the wall timbers were fastened to each other
by one and a quarter square inch bolts thirty-four inches long,
pointed and driven somewhat slanting into one and a quarter
inch auger-holes about five feet apart. The slant was given in op
posite directions to the bolts nearest each other, to avoid the pos
sibility of their being drawn out by the buoyancy of the timber,
an acciden t which once occurred to a somewhat similar structure
in the West.
Three rectangular openings, each four feet wide and five feet
high, were made through the breakwater at different depths be
low the surface of the Lake, so that the water could be drawn
from near the bottom, middle or top, as future experience might
show to be best. These openings, and wells four feet square from
them to the ton of the breakwater, were timbered around in the
same careful manner as the rest of the crib. Each well was pro
vided on its inner face with slides for a temporary gate to cut off
tho water whenever thought necessary.
The floor and walls of the crib were all carefully calked. The
interior of the breakwater was divided into seven water-tight
compartments, made so by the calking already mentioned, and
" matched sheathing " between the walls. The object of these
water-tight compartments was to make it easy to build solid ma
sonry in the wliole of the breakwater at any time within the
course of a i'^w years, if it should be thought best.
The whole of the outside surfaces of the outer and inner walls
were sheeted with two-inch pine plank carefully jointed, placed

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 97
vertically, and spiked on. Instead of pine, three-inch white oak
was used for the upper portion of the outside, to resist the ice.
The upper ten feet of each outside corner was protected by angle
irons, extending each way two feet, and firmly fastened by two-inch
round bolts. From the bottom to the top of the crib, and into
wliich the ends of the angle irons were let, there were ten pieces
of white oak, 5 x 14 inches, fastened every two feet to the middle
wall with two-inch round bolts. .-,;.... , . .. \. _ . . ...
Similar pieces, 3x12 inches, 'thirty-nine feet long, reaching
from the top of the crib to the flooring, were fastened by the same
bolts to the inside of the middle wall. .• It will thus be seen that
apparently excessive care was taken to make the crib strong, but
subsequent experience showed that this care was none too great.
The crib, when built, was in a horizontal position. In order
to launch it, it was raised by screws, and inclined at an angle of
one in twelve towards the water. Seven ways were placed
under it, and extended out sixty-four feet into the river on
trestle work. The river portion of the ways gave a great deal
of trouble, on account of the uneven and stony character of the
bottom, and accidents caused by passing vessels. Everything
being ready, the launch took place on the 24th day of July,
1S65, when the crib glided without accident or delay gracefully
into tho water in the presence of a large number of spectators.
Immediately after the launch, tho contractors towed the crib out
to its position in the Lake. As soon as the bar was passed, three
small gates near the bottom of the crib were opened, and the
draft of water, which at first was but a little over eight feet, in
creased soon after reaching the anchoring ground to twenty-one
feet. A mooring screw, opposite the intended position of each
angle of the crib, had been placed under the direction of Mr. Clarke.
To each mooring screw a one and a half inch chain cable was
attached, and the loose end of the chain fastened to a buoy.
Unfortunately, lake propellers had destroyed three of these

98 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
buoys, and it was thought most expedient to substitute for the
sunken chains ordinary anchors and hemp cables. As soon as the
crib was brought near its position, the work of filling with loose
rubble was commenced. Very soon the crib got " out of trim,"
and (Hie corner of it rested on one of the low bars, peculiar to the
Lake at this distance from the shore. After some time had been
lost in vain efforts to get the crib righted, and into its exact posi
tion, the Board became alarmed for its safety, in case a severe
storm should arise, and directed that no expense be spared
that might seem necessary to the engineers to secure it with the
utmost despatch.
A. wrecking pump was at once employed. By means of this,
sufficient water was pumped into or out of the crib, as occasion
required, to right it. The partitions between the compartments
failed, and it was a matter of rejoicing that they did, for other
wise the removal of the wrecking pump from one compartment
to another could not have been made in time.
Three powerful tugs were hired, which, by the aid of sufficient
tackle, finally towed the crib to its exact position. Immediately
the contractors resumed the operation of filling the crib with
stone, but very soon after a violent storm set in, and drove the
vessels loaded with stone into the harbor. This storm continued
for three days, and threatened, before it abated, to do serious, if
not fatal, injury to the crib. In order to hold it in its position as
firmly as possible, the wrecking pump was kept at work to fill it
with water, the atone thrown in previously not being sufficient to
hold it down. During the height of the storm, every wave caused
a perceptible rocking of the crib. The angle joints of the inner
and middle walls began to separate, and for a time caused intense
anxiety. When the storm was over, two of the inner angle
joints bad parted an inch on top, and the entire crib had worked^
agaiiift wind and waves thirteen feet, and the northwest angle
was three and a half feet lower than the southeast.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 99
The great difficulty there would have beet in restoring the
crib to its exact position, and the fear there might be another
storm in the meantime, prevented any attempt of the kind from
being made. The very slight deflection this rendered necessary
in the line of the tunnel, was of no practical importance what
ever, though regretted, and the variations of the sides of the crib
from perpendicular, though a constant eyesore, did not aft'ect its
stability. The filling of the crib with stones was proceeded with as fast
eb the contractors could, and since it was completed, about the
middle of August, no variation whatever in the position of this
strnctnre has ever been perceived. '4i A slight tremor is sometimes
felt during severe storms, and when large fields of ice are passing.
The rubbing of the field-ice against the crib is occasionally accom
panied with a fearful noise. At such times the crib appears to a
spectator on it to be an immense plough moving through the ice.
On several occasions the broken masses lodged on the south side
of the crib, forming banks several hundred feet long, and reaching
from the bottom of the Lake to ten or fifteen feet above the surface.
The breakwater portion of the crib being filled with stone, the
contractors erected over it a temporary wooden covering, with a
light-house on top, and rooms above and below for the accommo
dation of their own men, as well as the inspectors employed by
the Board. It may be said, in passing, that the air was so pure
at this dwelling-place as to cause complaints, at first, from the
cook of the voracious appetites of the men. The reputation of
the crib for healthfulness is still maintained, the present keeper
being now quite vigorous and hearty, although apparently a feeble
consumptive when he went there to live, about eighteen months
ago. CYLINDER AND LAKE SHAFT.
The east-iron cylinder for the lake shaft was made in Pittsburg,
by Messrs. James Mai-shall & Co., who also made the one for the

100 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIREB
land shaft. It consists of seven sections, each nine feet in length,
nine feet internal diameter, two and a quarter inches thick, and
in all other respects like the one for the land shaft, except that
the lowest section was turned on the outside, to make it penetrate
the clay more easily, and the upper end was provided with two
gateways, for the introduction or exclusion of the lake water.
The gateways are each fifty-four inches high by thirty-two inches
wide, and placed with their tops below the lowest known level of
the lake. Each gateway was provided with a sliding gate on the
outside of the cylinder, raised by a screw worked at the top of
the cylinder. Provisional arrangements were made at each gate-
ODening for forming chambers on each side, in case it should
ever be necessary to repair either gate, by simply sliding in tem
porary gates. The sliding faces for those temporary gates, as well
as of the permanent ones, were made of " composition." In
clined ways were placed inside of the crib during its construction,
to aid in lowering the cylinder to its place, but the storm already
mentioned destroyed them. The lowest and next cylinder-sec
tions were put together on an incline. They were held in place,
when required, by chains on the outside, secured to the lower
end of the bottom section, and a brake over the upper side of the
cylinder. They were lowered gradually on the incline by means
of screws attached to the upper flange. These screws had to be
removed, of course, for every new section put on. Care was
taken to have sections enough together before removing the
chains from the bottom of the cylinder, to reach above the water.
This required five, or forty-five feet altogether, to be sure. A
false bottom of wood was put into tho cylinder at its lowest sec
tion, to keep out as much water as practicable. This gave the
cylinder great buoyancy when sunk to a depth of thirty feet, and
made it very easy to handle with blocks and tails placed overhead.
On being lowered tho cylinder sunk by its own weight two 01
three feet into the clay, when the false bottom stopped it. A

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 101
hole was then bored through the false bottom, and the cylinde
went down several feet further by its own weight. After the
sixth or gate-section was put on, and the false bottom removed,
and excavation made within, the cylinder continued to sink by
its own weight. After the top section was put on a moderate
force only was necessary to push the cylinder down twenty-three
feet below the bottom of the Lake. Below this point the work of
sinking the shaft was substantially a repetition of that at the
shore end of the tunnel, except that no water was met with, and
no pump ever put in or required. "The little leakage that oc
curred was easily removed in buckets." fe - ' .' ;.,*' .¦".&•
An extension eastward, about fifty feet, was made, in anticipa
tion of the possible extension of the tunnel, at some future day,
still further out into the Lake. This was provided with the neces
sary sump and bottom on wliich to place another iron cylinder.
The extension was of great service during the construction of the
work as a turn out of the cars, and afforded, by means of a six-
inch tube, sunk perpendicular from above the surface of the Lake
to its outer end, an excellent opportunity to start the line of the
tunnel below with great accuracy towards the deflecting point
in the middle. TUNNELLING FROM LAKE SHAFT.
The work of tunnelling was carried on from this end in very
much the same manner, and about as rapidly as it was on the
first 2,000 feet from the land shaft. The average progress made
was 9-^ feet a day till a point 2,290 feet from the lake shaft was
reached, when operations in this direction ceased. When the
work from the land shaft was within 100 feet of the same point,
it was thought best to stop tho masonry there and run a small
timbered drift through to the east tace to be certain as to how
the lines were going to meet. The two faces were brought to-
gcthcr on the 30th of November, 1S_6, when it was found that

I'll. HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
the masonry at the east face was only about 74. inches out of the
line from the west end. The horizontal measurements were only
three inches longer than was estimated by triangulation. This re
sult, considering the great difficulty of getting a clear atmosphere
in the tunnel, was deemed very good, and much better than was
generally expected.
The last of the masonry in the regular tunnel, when the two
faces were brought together, was completed on the 6th of Decem
ber, and a stone commemorative of the event placed there by the
Mayor of the city, in the presence of the City Council and Board
of Public Works, both of which bodies, together with a number.
if citizens, passed from the shore through the tunnel to the crib,
mid then by a tug to the city on that day.
The ventilation of the east end of the tunnel was effected by
means of six-inch tin pipes, connecting with the furnace of the
hoisting engine. The pipes extended to the end of the masonry.
Occasionally, ashes from the furnace would stop the ventilation,
which would soon be discovered at the face.
GATE-CHAMBER, CONNECTIONS, AND COMPLETION.
In December the work of filling up the chambers was com
menced, and also that of connecting the tunnel with the pumping
wells. Much had been done previously towards constructing a
gate-chamber between the land shaft and the pumping wells. This
was made nineteen and a third feet exterior, and sixteen feet interior
diameter, and divided into five compartments, separated by walls
twenty inches thick. The outer walls were first built on a boiler-
iron shoe, or curb, and then sunk by excavating within. An old
abandoned inlet gave a great deal of trouble by letting in water;
and the boiler-iron shoe, which was adopted for the sake of econ
omy, proved more expensive in the end than a cast-iron one would
have been. The foundations were on a bed of concrete twenty-
four inches thick, on which the footings of the exterior and division

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 103
walls, all of brick, were built. Through the bottom of each divi
sion wall there were left rectangular gate openings, three feet
wide and five feet high. The tops of these openings are 23f feet
below low-water in the Lake. In each opening a cast-iron gate
frame was built. The gates themselves are tapering. The frames
were fitted with wedging grooves or ways projecting beyond the
walls, just sufficient to free the gates when raised or lowered. It
was hoped that the wedging grooves would allow the gates to be
screwed down perfectly tight ; bat in 'practice they have given'
more trouble than was anticipated/aid it is believed now that '
in making future structures of the kinc( for the city, if any should'
be required, it would be safer and better to put a gate on each
side of the wall, so that the pressure* of the water could always
be used to keep the gate tight. The gates are 'operated by means
of rods, stayed at intervals, and by screws with hand-wheels at
the top of the walls.
The connection between the land shaft and the gate chamber
was of precisely the same size and form as the main tunnel. The
connections with the old and new pumping wells, and a partial
one with the provisional or south pumping well, as also about
180 feet of a provisional connection with the Lake shore, are all
four and a half feet interior diameter, and were tunnelled through
soft clay without any difficulty, except a little trouble in working
under and through the piling beneath the old pumping well.
The connection with the Lake shore, or rather the old inlet basin,
is to be used, in case it should ever be necessary to suspend the
supply through the main tunnel, either to examine, cleanse, or
repair it.
A temporary connection between the land shaft and the mouth
of the old inlet was made by means of a timbered drift through
the clay, and a brick well four feet interior diameter and thirty
feet deep, provided with a curb built above the water on an iron
shoe, held together by iron rods, and sunk by means of the same

104 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
dredging apparatus that was used for sinking the curb of the new
pumping well. Two wooden gates were left in the top of the
curb, just below the surface of the water. A small area, enclos
ing the well and the inlet, were coffer-dammed around as far as
necessary to cut them off from the flow of the Lake whenever
desired. Tho work of filling the chambers of the main tunnel, and the
cleansing of that structure having been completed, water was
first let into it on the 8th of March, 1867, when only the hori
zontal portion was filled, this precaution being taken to avoid
too sudden a pressure on the masonry. By the morning of the
11th, the shafts were filled to the level of the Lake. For the pur
pose of ascertaining if any defective workmanship existed where
cavities on the outside of the masonry had been filled in, the
water was pumped out of the tunnel sufficiently to permit the
engineer and three representatives of the city press to go upwards
of half way through the tunnel. Not a brick was observed to
be out of its place or to have started. The party not being able
to push their boat any further without great discomfort, returned,
but were upset and left in total darkness about 600 fete from the
Lake shaft, to which they walked. Had this accident occurred
a mile out, it would have proved very serious, if not fatal, to
most of the party, as the water was too cold to be endured long.
After the examination the tunnel was again filled, and on the
24th, about 4 p.m., the mouth of tho old inlet was cut off from
the Lake. Immediately the pumps, which were not stopped at
all, drew down the surface of the water at the mouth of the inlet
upwards of a foot. For a moment it seemed to some of the
bystanders as if the tunnel would not perform its intended office,
but the next instant tho water began to bubble up beautiful and
clear at the top of the well, and continued to do so till the tem
porary connection was no longer needed ; when this most pleasing
and unexpected feature of the works ceased to delight the public.

'oyv..inj xi lux.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 107
The formal celebration of the completion of the tunnel and
introduction of pure Lake water, by appropriate public ceremonies,
took place March 25, 1867. From that time to this there has
been no cessation in the supply except three times, when stop
pages of a few hours by anchor ice occurred. The experience
thus far gained in this respect is believed to be sufficient to show
how to prevent the recurrence of such accidents.
Careful observations have frequently been made to ascertain
the head required to deliver given quantities of water through the
tunnel, and it is found to exceed in capacity the original estimates.
No indications whatever of internal injury to the structure have
yet- been observed. - 'i.nila^^U,^ -. . < ¦ ;
The original estimate of the probable cost of the work was
$307,552. The actual cost, including all preliminary and other
expenses of whatever nature chargeable to the Lake tunnel, up
to April, 1S67, was $457,844.95.
Thus was completed this important series of works which
deliver to us the pure crystal contents of our mighty inland seas.
What man's forethought could devise was here planned and pre
pared to guard against the possibility of failure to supply the city
in its largest need. But the fire, which tried every man's work
of what sort it was, could be stayed by nothing human. How need
ful that every man keep in his own place of humble dependence
on the Almighty. " Blessed is every one who trusteth in Him ! "

CHAPTER XV.

The river makes the harbor, and the harbor determines the
location and greatness of the city. This cut into the shore, or
bayou, first extends west about one mile, and then forks north and
south, dividing the place naturally into three sides, north, south,

108 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
and west. The first lies between the Lake, the north branch,
and the main river. The West comprises all west of the two
forks or branches, and the South is bounded by the Lake, the riv
er, and the South Branch. The great ships and propellers sail
grandly into the harbor, and float away inland, yet remain ever
in close proximity to the business and the people. This gives
peculiar facilities for commerce, but impedes intercourse between
the three sections, because the river is crossed by swinging bridg
es which whirl upon a table in the centre of the stream. When
the bridges are " open " the people must wait till they shut. Tug
boats draw fleets of vessels through the sluggish water while the
impatient multitudes gather, and long lines of teams stand wait
ing, each eager to be on the move. We have sometimes consid
ered this enforced delay a blessing, inasmuch as it gave the hur
rying Chicagoans a breathing spell and moment to collect their
thoughts. It is to be feared that the majority do not indulge
pious thoughts, or confine themselves to words of gentleness, while
they fume and fret over the impediment to their onward pursuit
after money or pleasure. To obviate this difficulty and facilitate
the necessary interchange between the three great divisions, tun
nels have been constructed underneath the river and South Branch,
both for vehicles and foot-passengers. They were finished none
too soon, for in our present distress they have paid for themselves.
Business was mainly in the South Division till that was ravaged
by destruction, and people were compelled to transfer the chief
portion of it to the West Side, where also the large majority of
dwellings stood and still remain. In the time of the conflagra
tion, when bridges fell into the river smouldering masses, these
became necessary for the escape of those who were driven before
the fire. They were the scenes of some peculiar experiences on
that dreadful night. When the gas works let off the gas to pre
vent explosion after midnight, the Washington street tunnel was
full of vehicles, and the footway crowded with fugitives bearing

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. IOC
away their families and possessions to a place of refuge. This
being illuminated by gas was light and safe, even with a dense
throng pressing excitedly through it. But in an instant the
flickering flames were extinguished, and the place was dark as
midnight without a star. One shriek of anguish rang out along
the arches, and then the voices of men were heard quieting the
people. "Be still," "move slow," "there is no danger," "do
not push or crowd," were some of the directions given and carried
ont, so that the whole procession' felt their way co'mpo_?edly;
to the farther end, and not a. perron 'was trodden: down u'r in-'
jured. Eeports went over 'therTano! by telegraph that hundreds
of people were smothered iii tKe>£ririnels*'and fearful deeds were
perpetrated in their darkened passages; all of which proved false,
and these excavations were coverts from the storm of flame, and
by their means many escaped who otherwise must have become
victims of the fiery demon. >'¦•>¦>
Those who sought exit from the furnace by the La Salle street
tunnel were less fortunate, according to the succeeding description,
for which, however, we do not vouch, although every word is
possibly true :
" One of the most dramatic and impressive scenes of the fire
not yet recorded, was the flight through the new La Salle street
tunnel, under the river, during Sunday night. It was about 2
o'clock when this strange hegira began, and in ten minutes it
became a furious rout. The bridges on both sides were on fire,
and the flames were writhing over the decks of the brigs in the
river, and winding their fierce arms of flame around the masts
and through the rigging like a monstrous luminous devil-fish.
The awful canopy of fire drew down and closed over Water street
as the shrieking multitude rushed for the tunnel, the only avenue
of escape. There was no light in any house, save the illumination
which lighted up only to destroy. But into the darkened cave
rushed pell-mell, from all directions, the frenzied crowd - bankers,

110

HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES

thieves, draymen, wives, children — in every stage of undress, as
they had leaped from burning lodgings, a howling, imploring,
cursing, praying, waiting mob, making their desperate dive under
the river. It was as dark in the tunnel as it is in the centre of
the earth, perhaps darker. Hundreds of the fugitives were laden
with furniture, household goods, utensils, loaves of bread, and
pieces of meat, and their rush through the almost suffocating
tunnel was fearful in the extreme. They knocked each other
down, and the strong trod on the helpless. Nothing was heard
at the mouth of the cavernous prison but a muffled howl of rage
and anguish. Several came forth with broken limbs and terrible
bruises, as they scattered and resumed their flight under the blaz
ing sky to the North."
The tunnels having become an established institution, will be
multiplied as the necessities of the future require, till the river
shall become no barrier to the intercourse of the inhabitants in
every part of the city. They exist as a monument of the un
conquerable energy of the people under whose patronage they
have been constructed.

CHAPTER XVT.

Ocr city has enjoyed an unenviable reputation abroad for
wickedness. Doubtless the sins of our people are a cause of
reproach, weakness, and shame. "Righteousness exalteth a
nation, but sin is a reproach to any people." We have had
all the vices of large populations, both open and secret. The
divorce business is especially a crying evil of the time, and our
foreign element have been peculiarly given to disregard of the
marriage tie. It was said of us that the newsboys cried at the
approach of railway trains: "Chicago, fifteen minutes for divor-

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. Ill
ces!" The annals of crime have been full and red. Only the
week preceding the fire a mysterious murder occurred which sent
a thrill throughout the community. Drinking was carried to
excess, even Sunday dram-selling being tolerated by the executive
to an alarming and shameful extent. Covetousness also prevailed
under the forms of prodigality and avarice. The Sabbath was
terribly profaned by our foreign population, and the demoraliza
tion ran along all orders of society/-" Sinful or doubtful amuse
ments received the devotiori "of niultitudes.'1'' At an* expense1 rvof
eighty thousand dollars Crosby's Opera'Honse had been 'refitted,
and the winter was expected' to*i)e;J6n'erof 'unusual "gayet'y^aud
excitement. Money was to 'have'flpweicf'lik^ water from the rich
and the poor alike. We had our low resorts in great numbers.
The harlot plied her trade witli snccess arid profit. ' Blocks of
buildings were occupied by young men who \ad their orgies and
debauches, where young women were ' we'.come visitors. The
secret immoralities of a great city are innumerable and shocking.
None but the Omniscient can spy them out. Occasional revela
tions are like flashes of lightning upon a stormy sea, disclosing
the rush of black billows and the seething of bottomless eddies of
corruption. Alas for our city ! Pompeii could scarcely excel tho
madness of its passion, though law gives no sanction to iniquity,
as it did in that vile nest of heathen immorality.
While we thus glance at the darker aspect of life here, in order
to be just and true to facts, we turn gladly and boldly to another
side of the picture, and hold up a people whose liberality, gener
osity, piety, and morals will compare in their fruit — their actual
outworkings — with those of any other people under the sun. It
must be remembered that in the new West everything has had to
be done, as it were, at once — every necessity to be provided for
within a generation. We have not had two and a half centuries
to grow all these institutions and make the improvements needful
to our comfort. True, we have had the benefits of other men's

112 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FERES
capital and culture, and used them well. We claim nothing
more, and demand the recognition of this from our fellow-citizens
in older and well-regulated communities. The " almighty dollar "
has not absorbed attention and made us forgetful of the higher in
terests, nor have we failed to recognize the immutable principles
of justice and honesty iu our political or commercial relations.
Some of the best church edifices in the country were and are still
standing in our city, and these were and are carefully attended
and liberally supported. In mission work among the poor and
neglected we have not fallen behind our brethren elsewhere. .The
names of our workers and their labors have become famous not
only in America, but abroad ; and the good report has had no
small share of influence in bringing to our city a better class of
people, and insj^iring confidence. D. L. Moody's enterprise as a
missionary and a leader in the Young Men's Christian Associa
tion had so widely ah'scted the public mind, that contributions to
rebuild his burned edifice come pouring in upon him from all
quarters. The various churches have been awake and earnest in
their fields, to gather the harvest for God's kingdom. The North
Star Mission found friends familiar with its holy fame, who gener
ously came forward to restore it upon a good foundation of useful
ness. On a late Sunday in October, the Sabbath preceding the '
cuta. trophe. in the Second Baptist Church audience-room were
collected a vast number of children. First came the infant class .
of the Home School to the front, and took their places; then the
middle classes followed, and lastly the Bible Classes filed into the
centre of the house. Upon the one side marched in 600 German
youth and infants ; upon the other, Danish, Swedish, and others,
from out; mission. A company clean and bright came from
Bridgeport, and another from the Union Stock Yards. It was a
gallant array, of whose conduct and appearance the earnest, self-
sacrificing workers were justly proud. These were allowed to
sing, and, after listening to the speeches, to depart. Carriages

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. US
and cars had been provided, and great pains taken to make all
comfortable and happy, that they might join in a welcome to the
piistor, who had just returaed from a long absence. This is a
specimen of the manner in wliich Christians in Chicago have la
bored and sacrificed to build up the youth into a maturity of
knowledge, religion, and virtue. The inner life of the churches is
sweet and vigorous, and their bpneficence has begun to bear gold
en fruit. They have given their energies, talents, and money to
found and endow institutions of learning. .'The Methodists have a
University, Female College, and Seminary in one of our beautiful
Buburbs, Evanston; the Congregationalists have a noble Seminary
for the education of Ministers; the iBresbyterians," also, have the
same ; the Baptists have a University and' Seminary in the city,"
at Cottage Grove, already educating hundreds ; the Catholics had
several institutions, and all Christians had their organs of the
press, their organizations and associations for disseminating their
views and evangelizing the world. There is a pleasant fraternity
of feeling manifesting itself in a variety of forms, and especially
through the Young Men's Christian Association. There' are
many living, devoted men of God, laborious, prayerful servants
of Christ, benevolent, helpful followers of Him who went about
doing good. If the devil is active, his opponents are thoroughly
awake and ready to give him battle on every side. Since the dis
aster which destroyed so many sanctuaries and crippled the bene
volent, one of the first thoughts has been to re-establish these in
stitutions of religion and save the seats of learning. This fact
speaks volumes for the character 'of our people, showing their ap
preciation of the value of Christianity and their profound interest
in its progress. Many of them, though burned out or injured,
sought out the Lord's treasury and divided their little remnant of
money for the care of their church servants and services.
Besides all this, they have manifested great kindness and honor
in the hour of mutual adversity, and are seeking to do the thing

114 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
that is right between man and man. There is much reason td
take pride in such a people, who have gathered here from all
quarters, and scarcely learned to know and appreciate one an
other. It was but simple justice wliich led an eminent writer to
say: " It is my impression that human nature there is subject to
influences as favorable to its health and progress as in any city of
the world, and that a family going to reside in Chicago from one
of our older cities will be likely to find itself in a better place
than that from which it came."
A gentleman who spent a Sabbath here and spoke in the even
ing at Farwell Hall, in giving an account of what occurred, said
that he thought, as he saw the liquor saloons open and thronged,
that Chicago was the worst place he was ever in. But before he
reached the Hall several young men met him, and invited him to
go. to church, and addressed him and others with great courtesy
and earnestness. He said he concluded that if the devil was well
served, certainly the Lord's people were the most devoted workers
he had ever met.

CHAPTER XVIL

Our Republic has become an asylum for strangers from all na
tions. Ancient Borne drew to itself, by conquest, representative?
of many countries, and trade attracted others, so that it became a
Babel. Chicago has been the star in the West by whose beams
multitudes have been guided to the Valley of the Mississippi, from
almost every nation under the wliole heaven. It has offered a
home to many, and a market to others. The country makes
the city, and the city develops the country. Thus they act and
react perpetually upon each other in respect to all the various in
terests and concerns of life. It was a hazardous thing in the

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 115
eyes of some persons to encourage railroads, lest they should
divert and scatter trade from Chicago all along their lines. It
took but a slight experience to demonstrate that if ever the city
attained greatness, steam must have the glory of it. Railroad
therefore followed railroad, till now, from having forty miles in
1S50, this metropolis has already grown to be a chief railway
centre of the world. More than 8,000 miles of rail centre here,
and fifteen trunk lines radiate every way, each from three hun
dred to one thousand miles in length/ and still they come; k-These
marvellons facilities make us theffocal£point:of the great Wes't,
and bring to our doors all peoples,dariguages,and colors. 7 The
grain trade, as we have shown, is very." great, arid our ad vantages
for handling it are unsurpassed, '"; AJlpersohs have heard of the
elevators, and we subjoin an account of one lately built.1' ' •" ¦"¦ ¦
" The building.is 312 feet long, 84 feet wide, and 130 feet high ;
machinery is driven by a 400 horse-power engine. It is divided
into 150 bins 65 feet deep, with a storage capacity of 1,250,000
bushels. The yard will hold 300 or 400 cars.
" Two switch engines, when in full operation, are required to
put in and take out cars.
" Two tracks receive each ten cars, unloaded at once, in six to
eight minutes, each car having its elevator, conveying the grain
to its large hopper scale in the top of the building. There
weighed, it is spouted to the bin appropriated to that kind and
quality. To carry grain to the several bins renders the elevation
necessary. Allowing fifteen minutes to unload each set of ten cars,
four hundred are unloaded in ten hours, about 140,000 bushels.
" Shipping facilities equal receiving, there being six elevators
for that work, each handling 300 bushels per hour, or 180,000
bushels in ten hours. The grain is run out of the bins to another
set of elevators, which throw it into large hoppers at the top of
the building, in which it is weighed, and sent down in spouts into
the hold of the vessel.

116 niSTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
" The same company have another elevator on the opposite
side of the slip — for a slip at right angles to the South Branch
is cut to lay vessels alongside the warehouse — and ten other
large elevators and five smaller, afford the same facilities. Any
one of thirteen of them, too, will unload a canal-boat of
5,000 or of 6,000 bushels, in an hour and a half to two hours ;
an agTe^ate from 65 canal boats alone of 357,000 bushels in ten
hours." Modern invention economizes the results of industry and the •
productions of the earth, as well as human muscle and time.{
Many are not aware of the process by which corn can be stored"
and preserved, with an immense saving from waste and deteriora
tion. The subjoined brief picture of the dryer and its operations '
may interest a large class of readers :
" A tower seventy-five feet high, built of brick and iron, fire
proof, receives the grain at the bottom, where it is elevated to
the top, and passes slowly down over perforated iron plates, the
motion of the falling grain being constant and uniform, regulated
by slides or valves at the bottom.
"The grain in motion forms a solid column seven feet wide
and three inches deep. There are two columns of grain, and a
furnace at the bottom supplies hot air, which is evenly dis
tributed by suction-fans, so as to pass constantly and equally
through the grain the entire height of the kiln. Temperature is
regulated by thermometers set in the walls at several points,
avoiding all danger of over-heating. Impurities or foreign sub
stances are passed off in vapor or steam. Then it is thoroughly
cooled before being passed to the bins in the elevator by the same
process, except cold air instead of hot is used, which contributes
further to dry as well as cool."
It is a marvel to many how drainage has been secured upon so
fiat a plain, the highest point of the city being but twenty-five
feet above the surface of the river. This important and essential

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 117
end has been achieved by raising the whole land some fourteen
feet. High stone walls are built, the interior is filled with earth,
and the pavement laid upon that. The sidewalks are built from
each wall to the yards or fronts of the lots, and the houses are
raised up to grade. This gigantic operation is still going forward,
and miles of wooden streets offer their noiseless surfaces to the
wheel of the vehicle. This elevation of grade has made the ways
of our city rather uneven, and suggested forcibly the ups and
downs of Chicago. A man in New Tori, arrested for drunkenness,
pleaded not guity, and said that. being jrist,' from Chicago, where
the sidewalks were so uneven, his gait^wasumistaken for that of.
an intoxicated man. Gradually men are /bringing themselves up
to level, mending their ways, and making pedestrianism less dan
gerous and more agreeable. We lost in the fire one hundred and
twenty-two miles of sidewalk, which gives some idea of the ex
tent of territory it traversed, and the amount of labor required to
remove the traces of its progress.
Among modern precautions against fire, the fire-alarm telegraph
occupies a conspicuous place, and has been for some years in full
operation in Chicago. Wires are stretched over house-tops
throughout the city, and boxes placed at frequent intervals for
the use of these wires by citizens, who wish to call the attention
of the Fire Department to any outbreak of fire in their vicinity.
The turning of the handle in the box is felt at the rooms in the
Court-House, and the number of the district indicated to the
operator, who sends it to the engine houses, where horses are
standing harnessed day and night, ready to speed the steam-engine
to the point of attack. There is also a watchman in the cupola
of the Court-House, who sends word to the operator of any fire
he may see, and rings the great bell (now, alas! forever silent),
to warn the firemen and people of the location of the fire. Sup
pose the conflagration is in district one hundred and twenty-three ;
he strikes the bell once, then rests a moment, strikes it twice,

118 HISTORY OF TIIE GREAT FIRES
then rests again, strikes it three times, and then, after a longei
interval, repeats this process, till the city is made fully aware of
the situation of the danger, nearly every house having a printed
list of the fire districts. In this connection, the following state
ment of one of the operators on duty the night and morning of
the Great Fire, is full of interest: "I arrived at the office 12.30,
a. m. While I was on duty, Stations 19, 13, and 10 were turned
in, and struck by me in rapid succession. About this time some
man came into the office and notified me that the fire had crossed
to the south side of the river. At the same time the watchman
in the tower told me that the wooden ventilators on the west
wing were on fire. I then asked the man on duty in the Central
Station (Policeman Vesey) to send me a fire-extir.guisher, which
he did. With the aid of the extinguisher and the assistance of
the two watchmen in the tower, I managed to keep down the
small fires which were constantly appearing on the wooden tower
and ventilators, until about half-past 1 o'clock a.m., when a ball
of tar, or a piece of tarred paper, came through the windows
under the balcony of the dome, and fell on the stairs, just where
some plastering had been pulled off. I started up the stairs to
put it out, but before I could reach it, the lathing and some dry
material under the roof had ignited. I then called loudly for Mr.
Deneson, the watchman, to come down from the tower, which he
did, making a narrow escape with his life. Knowing by the ap
pearance of things that the building was doomed, I returned to
the office and struck my electric repeater, striking upwards of
seventy blows on the outside bells, thinking that, perhaps, the
noise would awaken some of the many sleepers with whom I
knew many of the blocks were filled. Previous to this, I caused
the Court-IIouse bell to be rung by hand. As the office was by
this time full of smoke, and the heat was becoming intense, I
was obliged to switch off my repeaters and leave the office, which
I did. with one or two others, by way of the west wing, stopping

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. HO
to close the fire-doors between the two buildings. Once out of
the building, I procured a fire-hat, and worked until 3 o'clock on
Monday afternoon, at the south end of the fire, when I went
home to get some sleep."
Brave fellow ! he had earned his coveted repose, and we do
well to honor the men who keep watch and ward over our dwel
lings and lives, while we sleep and while we wake. His in
genious mechanism, and all the appurtenances of his department,
lUiust be renewed, and even upon, a grander scale, in the .Chicago
of the future. . , , y]iSi%&!h4M V*/>w.-....v?*;Hwk* .
. ,, Recognizing the value of universal education, our city has pro
vided, partly through State liberality, a splendid system , of com
mon-school instruction free to every child, of every nationality,
religion, and condition among us. ,.,The officers and teachers of
these schools are persons, many of them, of the highest intelligence,
culture, and skill, and generally we are admirably served. A
vast throng of children gather in the buildings devoted to this
purpose, which are, almost all of them, noble, commanding, com
modious edifices, capable of providing room for all the youth who
choose these facilities. In addition, there are numerous private
schools and academies, both for primary and higher education,
which find ample patronage from a people who prize the power
of knowledge and despise ignorance as weakness.
It has been the honorable aim of our city to place the highest
objects of ambition among men upon a footing worthy their pre
eminence. Religion, morality, knowledge, culture, and social
enjoyment have their temples and seats, paraphernalia and ap
paratus, in as advanced a state of perfection as in any commu
nity under the sun. And all this, be it ever remembered, has
been the growth of a heterogeneous people, upon a new soil, within
the period of a generation. Their enterprise and its results consti
tute a fitting symbol and monument of the age.
Want of space must prevent an elaborate account of those

120 HISTORY OF TOE GREAT FIRES
splendid blocks which had sprung up on every hand, built both
by home and foreign capital, many of them rivalling in beauty
the finest models of architecture in the Old World ; those grand
hotels, both old and new, which had a national reputation and a
promise of eclipsing the world ; those beautiful homes, where taste
and wealth combined their resources to provide elegance and
comfort; those public buildings, stored with the trophies of
genius and the results of scientific research ; those sanctuaries,
proclaiming the purpose of the people to give God the best; to
gether with a myriad tokens of prosperity, so many of which are
now level with the ground, or stand in unsightliness and ruin to
mock the pride of man. At the height of a proud and princely
position the Young Giant stood erect, beckoning the world to
his arms, when the fatal decree went forth, and his might, touch-^
ed by the flaming breath of Omnipotence, shrivelled and shrunk,
and he lay prone like a tree, storm-bent and fire-scathed.

GREAT FIRES IN CHICAGO AND TIIE WEST. ' 121

IV.— THROUGH FIRE.
CHAPTER XVDI.
The churches were just dismissing their devout worshippers
after evening service, when the fire-bells rang their loud alarum.
The evening before, a fire had raged of, unparalleled violence, and
the embers still glared in the darknes?^ and people were easily!
roused to intense alarm. -Many hastened from the House of God
to the scene of the fire, fearing that the high wind might imperil
even larger districts of the city. None dared to dread any such
devastation as that which followed.
It was a period of peculiar drought in the whole western
country, and the dryness of the atmosphere was so remarkable
that an intelligent physician, observing that his plants became
desiccated in a few hours after the most profuse watering from
the hydrant, trembled all day Sunday lest a spark of fire should
drop near his dwelling. There was a 6trange lack of moisture in
the air, wliich condition did not change until Monday afternoon.
On Saturday evening, October 7, about 11 o'clock, a fire caught
in a planing-mill, west of the river and within a block of it, in
the neighborhood of a wooden district full of frame-houses, lum
ber, and coal-yards, and every kind of combustible material.
Some contend that it originated in a beer salo >n. and thence was
communicated to the planing-mill.
In the almost inflammable state of the atmosphere, and. under
the propulsion of a strong wind, the tinder-boxes on every side
ignited, and ruin rioted for hours over a space of twenty acres,
and destroyed a million dollars' worth of property. Grand and
awful as this conflagration seemed to the thronging thousands.

122 HISTORY OF TOE GREAT FIRES
who crowded every approach and standpoint where a view could
be obtained, it paled and faded away in comparison with that
of the following night; but. as thg event proved, this first fire
saved the remainder of the West Division of the city, for when
the raging element came leaping and roaring onward it found
nothing to burn, and then paused and was stayed, while it
rushed across the river, and satiated itself upon the noblest and
best portion of the town, east and north.
Of this eventful period so many writers have wrought out
descriptions which are unapproachable in graphic delineation and
powerful word-painting, that simple justice to our readers de-:
mands that we collate from these all that is necessary to present
the whole mournful subject in its many-sided aspects. Like a
great battle, with its multitudinous features unobservable by any
combatant or spectator, this conflagration presented so many
phases that each was absorbed in what he saw, while matters
of unspeakable interest were occurring on every side beyond his
ken. Let, then, many testimonies combine to set forth to the gaze
of mankind what has perhaps never been equalled, and certainly
never surpassed in tho checkered experience of humanity. We
bring together around this terrific scene the sketches of the press
published in Chicago and elsewhere, and individual experiences.
THAT KICKING COW.
The reporters gave the world to understand that a woman
named Scully had gone to milk her cow or tend a sick calf in her
stable — a crazy wooden shanty filled with loose hay — bearing a
candle or lamp in her hand. Stories varied as to these details,
but all agreed that the light had been overturned, and that the
building had on the instant burst into flames. So rapid was the^
progress of the fire that in less than ten minutes two blocks be
tween Jefferson and Clinton streets were all ablaze.

view .'rom the cafr;

OUAKK AND KARWKM. BLOCK, WABASH AVENUE,

W ENo'LAND CHURCH KS

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 125
Upon this report the London Punch becomes funny, and kindly
too : —
" We suppose that the most costly pail of milk ever heard of
in the world was the pail which burned Chicago. The gallant
Americans are the last people to cry over spilt milk or burned
cities. Chicago will quickly be Redwvva. She has very likely
accepted the omen that she will soon be flowing again with milk
—and honey — has elected in her, cheery way to call herselfVthe
.Cow City. Therefore, Bull, evince^the. /affection of a relative;
:V -'••:. - L. '%&" ¦? 5-M.b4*  .¦-•¦;•--• ¦;.-¦'",! ¦/¦&',>"¦ V
,J. show that you have what Benedick, cslh." an Amiable rXow J?.
¦*vt-. -'>;»; " y-'iv~^«;-.f^'.*;s-:,' • ¦ ¦¦¦ ¦«~v', ^f
Xfneedless to say that we do nbt;aUude*to any keeper of the pub-
lic/pnrse), and that you come of /thejtbck ;of the Golden Bull.
.With which sweet, choice, and daih^ebnijeils. to lighten" the; way,
let the pensive public be off to the Mansion House with their
help for the homeless by Lake Michigan. The Americans
remembered us in the time of Ireland's . hunger and of the cot
ton famine, and must now allow us to remember them. And
let's be quick about it, or the city will .be rebuilt before the money
gets there. ' Right away — this very now,' as they say."
We thank Mr. Punch for his generous confidence and witty
appeal, and assure him that this is our purpose, to revive in more
than former splendor and power, that our city may be able to
help the poor, and empty its cornucopia into the lap of the world.
The story of this origin of the disaster may be true, in spite of
affidavits to the contrary, or may have but a spark of truth in its
fabric ; at all events, the fire commenced at the barn, and grew into
THE GREAT CONFLAGRATION.
Before we summon our eye-witnesses, we are willing to allow
the inveterate joker of the Hartford Post to have his bit of fun at
their expense, since he is a newspaper man and cannot be expect
ed»to " set down aught in malice " against his brethren.
"The reporters and correspondents did try to 'do the subject

126 niSTORY OF THE GREAT FIRKS
ju.-tiee' in writing up the Chicago fire. We can imagine them
looking on the roaring sea of flames and the crazed multitudes
seeking refuge from them, and making up their minds deliberate
ly that in the matter of describing the fury of the fire and the wild
tumult of the crowd, nothing was left to exaggeration; they must
climb up by dizzy successions of polysyllabic adjectives as nearly
as possible to the heights of the great occasion, and feel then that
words were uneqnal to it ; that they had not and could not exag
gerate it. Of course it piqued their ambitious pens. It occurred
at length to one of them that it was an exceedingly proper time
for bloodshed, that in all this chaos there was a lack — to the re^
porter a painful lack — of devilishness.' It was a horrible picture,
but it lacked murder to make it complete. What so good time
as this for hangings and lynchings, and other such bloody carry
ings on. It was such a happy thought, that the first reporter in
terpolated forthwith into his account the shooting down of an in
cendiary. It took. The reading public licked its intellectual
chops and said : ' Ah, now it begins to be congruous and coher
ent-like. This is something like it.' And the reporter thereupon,
after the manner of the menagerie man tossing raw beef to the
tigers, jerked into his account the sweet little sentence: 'Seven
men have just been shot down in the act of kindling incendiary
fires.' " ' Only seven.1 growled the public. ' There must be more than
that; the fire was a very large one.'
" The reporter was equal to the occasion. ' Forty-seven men
have already been shot,' he telegraphed; ' no arrests are made.
Incendiaries are shot, down wherever taken.' He had kindled to
it. The raging public wanted blood. He could furnish it.
Then it occurred to him to heighten the interest by giving names
— it wanted local and personal color. So with a dash of the pen
he strung Barney Aaron, the pugilist, to a lamp-post, and shot
another notoriety named Tracy, with a file of muskets. He was

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 127
doing well. The fire was subsiding, but there never was such an
opportunity for murderers, never a man so handy at inventing
them. But the fire was the biggest thing the world ever saw,
and these were only ordinary murders. He had not worked bru
tality enough into the picture. And so, to finish and crown all,
he strung up a boy by the heels, head downward, and described,
with horrible minuteness, how the crowd amused itself by stoning
him to death. And then that reporter retired from business.
Next day General Sheridan,' who ;was in command, in reply .to
some sort of a telegram, possibly asking him if it was not feasible
to quench the flames with the human gore this sanguinary report
er had set running, said it was verylquiet there, and nd;disturb-
ance of any account. But a blood-thirsty public was not to be so
deceived. 'Ah!' they said, 'Sheridan is so used to blood I
This is nothing to him. To a man who has swam his horse
through it in the Shenandoah a mere streetful of blood is noth
ing. Ah, ah ! Oh, yes ! " very quiet " — that's good ; but of course,
as a matter of fact, they have shot incendiaries, and hung thieves
to lamp-posts and stoned them to death, and there is no doubt
that Barney Aaron and Tracy were killed, for the telegraph has
distinctly said so.' "
And yet, ten days after the event, it turns out that the boy was
not inverted and hung and stoned to death, and that the soldiers
did not shoot anybody, and that nothing of the sort happened.
And Barney Aaron, who was hung to a lamp-post, sits on the
steps of a New York gambling-house, and asseverates that he was
not killed.
That reporter rose to the occasion. He writes with a harrow.
Had this hard joker, who rightly takes off sensational writing,
been a spectator and sufferer on that woful night, doubtless he
would have felt that a pen dipped in Tartarean flames would
have been needed to adequately depict the scenes that transpired.
" None but an eye-witness can form an idea of the fury and

128 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
power of the fire among the buildings and warehouses on the-
South Side, with the wind blowing a hurricane. At times it
seemed but the work of a moment for the fire to enter the south
ends of buildings, fronting on Randolph, Lake, and Water streets,
and reappear at the north doors and windows, belching forth in
fierce flames which often reached the opposite buildings, and then-
the flames, issuing forth from the buildings on both sides of the-
street, would unite, and present a solid mass of fire, completely
filling the street from side to side, and shooting upward a hundred"'
feet into the air. Thus was street after street filled with flame-
Huge walls would topple and fall into the sea of fire, without
apparently giving a sound, as the roar of the fierce element was so-
great that all minor sounds were swallowed up, and the fall of walls
was only perceptible to the eyes. Many of the buildings situated
along South Water street buried their red-hot rear walls in the
water of the river, into which they plunged with a hiss. The
heat was so intense at times from some of the burning buildings
that they could not be approached within 150 feet, which accounts
for the manner in which the fire worked back and often against
tl.e wind. The fire, after reaching the business portion of Ran
dolph and South Water streets, leaped the river to the North Side
in an incredibly short space of time, and thence among the wooden
buildings on that side, reached the lake shore after destroying
block after block of happy dwellings. A scene of such utter
powerlessness in the face of an enemy was never presented as that
of this people trying to combat the flames.
'• Now was to be seen the most remarkable sight ever beheld in
this or any country. There were from 50,000 to 75,000 men,
women, and children fleeing, by every available street and alley,
to the southward and westward, attempting to save their cloth
ing and their lives. Every available vehicle was brought into v
requisition for use, for which enormous prices were paid.
Thousands of persons inextricably commingled with horses and

TN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 129
vehicles, poor people of all colors and shades, and of eveiy nation
ality — from Europe, China, and Africa — mad with excitement,
struggled with each other to get away. Many were trampled
under foot. Men and women were loaded with bundles, to whose
skirts children were clinging, half-dressed and barefooted, all
seeking a place of safety. Hours afterwards, these people might
have been seen in vacant lots, or on the streets far out in the sub
urbs, stretched iD the dust. These are the homeless and destitute,
who now call on the rich world „for .food and clothing. .,, One of
.the most pitiful sights was that of a middle-aged woman on State
-street, loaded with bundles, struggling through a' crowd, singing
cthe Mother Goose melody,
' Chiokeiy, Chickeiy, Crany Otaw, -
I went to the weU to wash my toe I
" There were hundreds of others likewise distracted, and many,
made desperate by whiskey and beer, which, from excess of thirst
and in the absence of water, they drank in great quantities, spread
themselves in every direction, a terror to all they met."
Instead, therefore, of considering these descriptions which fol
low as exaggerations, we do well to remember that all concur in
declaring that language fails to do justice to the roar and rush of
the elemental forces, combining to demolish the proudest monu
ment of American enterprise, the glory and boast of our country,
and the wonder of the world. All things concurred to make this
the climax of triumph for the fire-fiend.
Sunday evening seemed to have been designed purposely for a
repetition of the horrors of Moscow, or the " calamitous and pite
ous spectacle " of old London. A strong wind, rising at times to
a hurricane, blew across the city. Every roof was baked dry as
tinder by fourteen rainless weeks. The power to disseminate
and the readiness to receive were there, and but one spark was
needed to blot out a city and blacken the prairie with houseless
heads.

130 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES

C WAITER XIX.

Every thinking man inquires for a philosophy of the fire, and
the world wishes to guard itself from a recurrence of the calam
ity that has fallen like a thnnderblast on the Great West. Mr.
Charles Barnard thus writes of
THE REMOTE CAUSE OF THE WESTERN TIRES.
Chicago has burned down, and whole square miles of western
land are burned up. That misguided cow and unhappy lamp
have been berated enough. If the barn had been damp with re
cent rains perhaps the fire had gone no farther. Certain is it that
if the roof-tops had not been baked dry by a summer's drought Chi
cago would not have mourned her lost children'and ruined homes.
Had not those Wisconsin fields been as ashes in the dry wind,
had plentiful rains drenched the Michigan woods, the country
would have been happier to-day. Everything there was as dry
as tinder, say all the papers.
Now whose fault was it ? People with more piety than wis
dom may say, in a horrified way : " What a "question ! Do you
arraign the acts of Providence?" No. There has been blame
somewhere. We are not inclined to shift it upon heaven. Men,.
not Providence, brought this calamity upon us. It is we who
have created these dry summers. Had there been no drought
there had been no such wide ruin.
The time was when such long-continued dry seasons were not
known. Men can and do change the character of climates. We
can cause the rain to fall, or drive away the clouds. Men have
altered the temperature and moved the dew-point. The farmers
of the Northern States are, in a measure, responsible for the series
of dry summers that have, prevailed for the last ten years.
Meteorology is beginning to take a high position. We have
mapped tho winds, and can signal the coming storm to the sailor and

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. tJi
farmer. The iavvs of the weather are no longer a matter of guess
work. Cause and effect are as sure in the clouds as on the ground.
Observing the effect, we. can trace the cause. Given this series of
dry summers, science points to the cause — our denuded forests.
In our foolish American haste we have wastefully cut down
the trees, dried up the springs, raised the temperature, so that
precipitation of moisture is reduced, and have driven the rain
away in useless clouds or invisible vapor over the Atlantic. ;', Chi
cago is burned down, and we are solemnly sayiDg, "How heavy
is the hand of heaven upon us t'|;toT^e.have prayed for rain one
duy of the week, and driven it away .with: afi axe on six. t >:i qTy.
' ¦ ' . • <- -yfl?? :<\ y * '"J1"
¦ The mischief is done, and the 'best thing' we can now do. is to
examine the matter with a view to future prevention. * 'How shall
we bring back the rain? How restore 'our forests? Simply by
planting our woods anew. ; ...., .v~. ,..
This is not a new or untried idea. Artificial woods are no
longer a novelty in Europe. There this whole matter is well un
derstood. In parts of the Continent foresters are appointed by
government. It is their duty to inspect all standing forests.
Schools of arboriculture are established. The habits of the trees
are considered, the soil examined, and tree-planting carried oa
over hundreds of square miles. For every tree cut down one or
more new ones must be set. Nurseries, producing millions of
young trees, do thriving business in supplying this material.
Under the advice of the foresters the new forests extend year by
year. On the rocky hills of Scotland the oak, maple, and chest
nut are planted; the willow is set out by the million on the
marsh-like "polders" of Holland; about Utrecht, and on the
sandy plains of Zelderland, near Arnheim, the traveller passes
artificial pine-forests by the hour.
In view of these western fires it is high time we prepared to imi
tate our transatlantic friends. At once the great cost of such an
undertaking coines up. Now we think it can be shown that

132 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
the thing will pay to do. If there is money in it, it will get itself
done fast enough.
The land used for such forest is generally fit for nothing else.
We have millions of acres that are barren wastes — an eyesore and
a tax on the owners. By examining the most flourishing trees
growing in similar soil in the neighborhood, we can decide what
to plant. By sowing the seed or buying young trees a year old,
we can soon start a forest that in twenty years will bring a cash
return that will cover the cost of planting, interest, and taxes,
and leave a margin of profit besides. « .- ...
To come down to details, let me present an estimate prepared
for a gentleman who had a hundred acres of nearly valueless land
in Eastern Massachusetts. It was a continual tax-bill, and brought
no return whatever. The land was valued at fifty dollars an
acre. The interest for twenty years would be $6,000; the taxes,
$5,000. If he did nothing to the land he would be $6,000 out ol
pocket at the end of that time. There was a fence round the
whole lot that it was estimated would cost twenty dollars a
year to maintain. Each acre would hold five hundred trees, or
fifty thousand in all. The trees could be bought for $1,500.
The planting would cost about $600. The trees, at the present
price of posts and sleepers, would be worth at least seventy-five
cents each. To sum up : —
Interest  $6,000
Taxes  5,000
Fencing  400
Oversight, at $50 per year  1,000
Fifty thousand trees  1,500
Planting  600
$14,500
Fifty thousand trees at 75 cts  37,500
Five per cent. los3  7,360
$30,200
Cost  14,500
$15J0O

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 133
The care would be slight, as there is no culture of any kind.
Certainly this would be a nice little piece of property to leave to
the children, or set them up in life with. Were the trees cut
down, the place could be replanted. With better kinds of trees,
and more time, a greater price could be obtained* The trees to be
used were maples and chestnuts. The Scotch are noted for mind
ing the " mickle " that brings the " muckle," and the Zelderland-
ers are the closest-fisted people in Europe. That they plant trees
in countless thousands proves they have an eye on the above
cheerful pennies.

CHAPTER TT,
Whatever the indirect cause of the fire, it is plain that the
immediate aggravating conditions were such as rarely occur.
Long-continued positive drought, peculiar dryness of the atmos
phere, a heavy wind that increased to a tornado, vast masses of
pine wood and coal, weary firemen, and finally utter loss of water
to feed the engines, account for what followed, and prepare us to
accept the glowing paragraphs and solemn lines which tell the
tale of general and individual woe.

At 9.32 an alarm was sounded, summoning the brigade to the
corner of Jefferson and DeKoven streets. Ere the first engine
was on the ground, the flame had enveloped half a dozen outbuild
ings, and was pouring its columns upon the city to the southward
and eastward with the resistless grandeur and celerity of a bar
baric invasion.
The firemen, convinced of the impossibility of saving anything
in the district now attacked, confined their efforts to checking the
northward march of the fire. Heroic iis these efforts were, they
were in vain. The flames ran along the wooden sidewalks, and
whole tenements would burst into flames as simultaneously as if

134

HISTORY OF THE GREAT FU4ES

a regiment of incendiaries were at work. The narrow streets
were crowded with appalled spectators, half-dressed women with
aprons thrown over their heads running distractedly hither and
thither, and men tearing furniture to pieces in the furious haste
with which they flung it out of doors or dragged it through the
crowd. The element had the best of the battle so far. Engine
No. 14, driven back foot by foot, was penned in a narrow alley;
in another moment a gush of flame came from .the rear, and the
firemen could only cover their eyes from the blinding heat and
stagger desperately to safety through the burning belt that fringed
them round, abandoning the engine. Still they fought on gal-.
lantly. The advance of the fire was strongly defined in two
great columns running north, one between Jefferson and Clinton
streets, the other between Clinton and Canal streets. The latter
led the way, and as one o'clock struck, had seized the buildings
on Van Buren street, while the other was spreading more slowly
along West Harrison.
One o'clock had just struck, and a sudden puff of the variable
wind blew down a curved wing of the great golden-red cloud
above our heads. It fell like the sheer of a sabre, and in a second
a red glare shot up on the South Side, as if the blow had fallen
on a helmet and sent up a glitter of sparks and a spurt of blood.
The fire had overleaped the narrow river and lodged itself in the
very heart of the South Division. The angry bell tolled out, and
in a moment the bridges were choked with a roaring, struggling
crowd, through wliich the engines cleft a difficult way toward the
new peril. The wind had piled up a pyramid of rustling flame
and smoke into the mid-air. Lower currents at times varied and
drove tides of fire athwart the great roaring stream. When these
met, eddies that made the eye dizzy were formed, which sucked
up blazing brands and embers into their momentary whirl, and
i hen flung them earthwar.'. In such a fiery maelstrom had a
shower of sparks and largo fragments of detached roofing been
hurled into the neighborhood of the old Armory. The skirmish

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 135
ing was over, and man and fire were now grappling in earnest
where the prize was millions of money and hundreds of lives.
. When once the fire had established itself in the South Division
the task of following the course or describing its ravages in detail
became an utter impossibility. As well might a private soldier
endeavor to paint Waterloo, Sedan, or Gravelotte. All that the
writer can say is that everybody was mad, and everything was
hell. The earth and sky were fire and flames ; the atmosphere
was smoke. A perfect hurricane was;blowing, and drew the fiery
billows with a screech through .the narfrow alleys between, the .tall
buildings as if it were sucking them through a tube jgreat sheets
6f flames literally flapped in the 'air, like, sails on, shipboard. t rThe
sidewalks were all ablaze, and rthe-nre^an^alOTg; them:, almost as.
rapidly as a man could walk.' The wooden (block pavements,
filled with an inflammable composition, were burning in parallel
lines like a gridiron. Showers of sparks, intermingled with blaz
ing brands, were borne aloft by one eddy of the breeze, and rained
down into the street by the next, while each glowed a moment
and was gone, or burned sullenly, like the glare of an angry eye.
Roofing became detached in great sheets, and drove down the
skv like hu°-e blazing arrows. The dust and smoke filled one's
eyes and nostrils with bitter and irritating clouds. There was fire
everywhere, under foot, overhead, around. It ran alcng tindery
roofs, it sent out curling wisps of blue smoke from under eaves,
it smashed glass with an angry crackle, and gushed out in a tor
rent of red and black ; it climbed in delicate tracery up the fronts
of buildings, licking up with a serpent tongue little bits of wood
work; it burst through roofs with a rattling rush, and hung out
towering blood-red signals of victory. The flames were of all
colors, pale pink, gold, scarlet, crimson, blood-hued, amber. In
one place, on a tower covered with galvanized iron sheets, the
wliole roof burned of a light green, while the copper nails were
of a beautiful sparkling ruby. Over all was the frowning sky,
covered with clouds varied by an occasional undazzled star.

136 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
The brul e creation was crazed. The horses, maddened by heat
and noise, and irritated by falling sparks, neighed and screamed
with affright and anger, and reared, and kicked, and bit each
other, or stood with drooping tails and rigid legs, ears laid back,
and eyes wild with amazement, shivering as if with cold. The
dogs ran wildly hither and thither, snuffing eagerly at every one,
and occasionally sitting down on their haunches to howl dismally.
When there was a lull in the fire, far-away dogs could be heard
barking, and cocks crowing at the unwonted light. Cats ran.
along ridge-poles in the bright glare, and came pattering into the
street with dropsical tails. Great brown rats with bead-like eyes.
were ferreted out from under the sidewalks by the flames, and
scurried hither and thither along the streets, kicked at, trampled
upon, hunted down. Flocks of beautiful pigeons, so plentiful in
flie city, wheeled into the air aimlessly, circled blindly once or
twice, and were drawn into the maw of the fiery hell raging
beneath. At one bird-fancier's store on Madison street, near La
Salle, the wails of the scorched birds, as the fire caught them,
were piteous as those of children.
The firemen labored like heroes. Grimy, dusty, hoarse, soaked
with water, time after time they charged up to the blazing foe
only to be driven back to another position by its increasing fierce
ness or to abandon as hopeless their task. Or, while hard at
work, suddenly the wind would shift, a puff of smoke would
come from a building behind them, followed by belching flames,
and then they would see that they were far outflanked. There
was nothing for it then but to gather up the hose, pull helmets
down on their heads, and with voice and lash to urge the snorting
horses through the flame to safetj' beyond.
The people werp mad. Despite the police — indeed the police
were powerless — they crowded upon frail coigns of vantage, as
fences, and high sidewalks propped on rotten piles, which fellv
beneath their weight and hurled them, bruised and bleeding, ihtc

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 137
the dust. They stumbled over broken furniture ai.d fell, and
were trampled under foot. Seized with wild and causeless panics
they surged together backwards and forwards in the narrow
streets, cursing, threatening, imploring, fighting to get free.
Liquor flowed like water, for the saloons were broken open and
despoiled, and men on all sides were to be seen frenzied with
drink. Fourth avenue and Griswold street had emptied their
denizens into the throng. Hl-omened and obscene birds of night
jgere they. , Yillanous, haggard, with debauch, and pinched with
<gitisery, flitted through the crowd, ?fcpllarless, ragged, dirty* un-
; kempt, these negroes with stolid faces, and white men who fatten
fpn the wages of shame ; glided throngh.the mass like vultures in
- **.. ¦ -' '¦' v _v._-«.
'search of prey. They smashed windows' reckless of the severe
wounds inflicted on their naked hands, and with bloody fingers
rifled impartially till, shelf, and cellar, fighting viciously for the
spoils of their forays. Women, hollow-eyed and brazen-faced,
with foul drapery tied over their heads, their dresses half torn
from their skinny bosoms, and their feet thrust into trodden-down
slippers, moved here and there, stealing, scolding shrilly, and
laughing with one another at some particularly " splendid " gush
of flame, or " beautiful " falling-in of a roof. One woman on
Adams street was drawn out of a burning house three times, and
rushed back wildly into the blazing ruin each time, insane for the
moment. Everywhere dust, smoke, flame, heat, thunder of falling
walls, crackle of fire, hissing of water, panting of engines, shouts,
braying of trumpets, roar of wind, tumult, confusion, and uproar.
From the roof of a tall stable and warehouse to which the
writer clambered the sight was one of unparalleled sublimity and
terror. He was above almost the whole fire, for the buildings in
the locality were all small wooden structures. The crowds directly
under him could not be distinguished because of the curling
volumes of crimsoned smoke through which an occasional scarlet
lift could be seen. He could feel the heat and smoke, and heai

138 IIIfcTOEY OF THE GREAT FIRES
the maddened Babel of sounds, and it required but little imagi
nation to believe one's self looking over the adamantine bulwark.-;
of hell into the bottomless pit. On the left, where two tall build
ings were in a blaze, the flame piled up high over bur heads,
mtiking a lurid background against which were limned in strong
relief the people on the roofs between. Fire was a strong painter
and dealt in weird effects, using only black and red, and laying
them boldly on. We could note the very smallest actions ot
these figures — a branch-man wiping the sweat from his bro^r
with his cuff and resetting his helmet, a spectator shading his
eyes with his hand to peer into the fiery sea. Another gesticula^
ting wildly with clenched fist brought down on the palm of his
hand, as he pointed toward some unseen thing. To the right
the faces of the crowd in the street could be seen, but not their
bodies. All were white and upturned, and eveiy feature was as
strongly marked as if it had been part of an alabaster mask. Far
away, indeed for miles around, could be seen, ringed by a circle
of red light, the sea of housetops broken by spires and tall chim
neys, and the black and angry lake on which were a few pale,
white sails.
As many as a dozen different fires were raging at once; the
flames on Wells, Franklin, and Market streets marched steadily
toward the north-cast, crossing Madison street, below Wells. But
before they had reached this point, the Union Bank and Oriental
Building were on fire, the Chamber of Commerce was seamed
with thin wreaths of smoke, the low brick block opposite the
Sherman House was ablaze, and the roof of the Court House was
strewn with embers, each of which sank out of sight to be suc
ceeded by ominous puffs of pale-blue smoke, slowly reddening.
It was this peculiar progress of the flames which lent to
the great fire a distinctive and terrible character. The^
flames advanced like the advance of an army. Single Uhlans
skirmished here and there far in front, then small detachments

IN CHICAGO AND TOE WEST. 130
cut off the weaker and outlying forces, then well developed
battles took place around the stout buildings, which stood firm
like the squares of the Old Guard amid the rout at Waterloo,
and finally the main body of fire came up and swept these solitary
resisting eddies into the great general tide of ruin. So while the
scenes in one street and at one hour might stand for those in the
city generally and through the whole night, yet around each of
the great buildings, as the Court House and the gigantic hotels,
episodes of peculiar and thrilling interest took place, .:..¦ ._i ...
At the Court House the fire had communicated with" the roof
and dome several times, brilytto ..ta-extinguished. ."Finally it
caught such a hold that the towef'nad' to 'be abandoned. <>rThe
great bell, which had been clanging fitfully all night,now kept up
one incessant rattle, the machinery having been set by the keeper
as he descended. The buildings on all sides were in flames, and the
streets filled with the ruins of fallen' walls. The prisoners in the
County Jail, almost suffocated with smoke, ran to the doors of
their cells and shook the iron bars with the strength of frenzy, ut
tering dreadful yells and imprecations of despair, as a horrid fear
that they were to be burnt alive possessed them. Captain Hickey,
seeing that there was no hope of saving the building, ordered the
cells to be unlocked, and in a moment the released prisoners, all
bareheaded, many barefooted, rushed into the street, yelling like
demons. A large truck, loaded with ready-made clothing, was pass
ing the corner of Randolph street at the time, and in a moment the
convicts swarmed upon it, emptied it of the contents, and fled to
remoter alleys and dark passages to don their plunder and dis
guise themselves. Not all, however, escaped. Those charged
with murder, except Nealy, accused of murdering a man on
Canal street, were securely handcuffed and led away between
guards, scowling and downcast. Meanwhile the boll still jangled,
the flames lit up the faces of the great clock with more than noon
tide light, the building "lowed without and within like a furnace.

140 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
Suddenly, when the hands of the clock pointed to 3.10, the dome
sank a little, rocked, then fell with a tremendous crash and clang,
while a pyramid of red fire and black cloud towered up for a mo
ment and then melted into the general blaze.
The Sherman House, with its hundreds of windows, resisted
stoutly. The flames were around it and beyond, but it stood up
majestic, its white walls rosy and its windows bright with the re
flected glare. The roof and woodwork were smoking in places,
but for nearly an hour the house held good. Suddenly a spurt of
flame came from a window in the third story on the southern face,
another and another followed, and in twenty minutes, from every
window hung out a red festoon, while great coils of black smoke
twisted around the eaves and met above the roof with the flames
already bursting through. Then all was over, and people could'
only watch it burn.
It was broad day now, and the sun was up. At least a small crim
son ball hung in a pall of smoke, and people said that was the sun.
For the rest, all consciousness of the hour and date was lost. The
wind had freshened, and the tumult increased. The fire had pur
sued its inexorable march in the van of the south-west wind across
the south side of the river. Toward the west it had burned more
slowly, and it was nearly noon before the distilleries at Madison
street bridge yielded. The north side was already attacked in a
dozen places. Of the south division, between State street and the
river, all the slighter buildings had been wiped out, many of the
larger edifices were in ruins, and a few of1 tho stoutest were still
ablaze, islands of fire. Streets and blocks were no longer dis
tinguishable. The gap beween the ruins were, it is true, still
filled with people, but they were not working to save anything.
There was nothing to save, no place whence to escape. The tu
mult was still .loud, but it was changed in its character. It was
now the wailing of children seeking their parents, of mothers seek
ing their families, of men maudlin with liquor and stupefied with

THE CKAli »!•.« "" rn«fit»"!

u*I.A« < ¦* ro '

A3H1NGTQN STRtEl'

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 143
grief bewailing their losses. The curious now pressed forward
to see, and the dishonest to steal. These coming from the west
and extreme south, met the throngs flying from the north, and
made human eddies in every street. But the fire was practically
over, the battle had rolled away to the northward, leaving behind
it its ruins, through which poured the fugitive and the wounded,
those who came on errands of curiosity or mercy, and those who
prowled about to pillage and destroy. : it.- , ',•;-¦ , 1 i
ON THE EXTREME 80UTH.
'That a fire of considerable proportions was raging on the West
"'..'* - iff!** 3 irtj" 1" ' > ' ' t *¦_ rN 'T( • ' ' ''it
Side was known at ten o'clock on Suhdav night to persons resid-
ing on the South Side, but the fact created so little apprehension
that people sought their beds,' arid many never knew of the
awful destruction until their usual rising hour in the morning.
This, however, was not true of people living north of Twelfth
street, for long before daybreak they were fully warned of the
destruction wliich came upon most and threatened all. At two
o'clock a reporter of The Post ran from his residence to Polk
street bridge. The fire at that time had not crossed the river so
far south, but to those residing between the river and the lake it
seemed, from the flames, that the fire was immediately upon them.
No one knew the extent the disaster had attained even at that
hour ; none would have believed it. From the bridge the West
Side seemed all in flames. The crowd cried, Is the river a bar
rier? Will it stay the stalking fiend ? The answer came from
the flame itself. It did not cross the bridge, for that had been
swung open, it leaped the river at a single leap, and caught in a
hot and destructive embrace the lumber yard lying south of Polk
street. So sudden was its crossing that numbers of persons stand
ing upon the approach to the bridge narrowly escaped suffocation,
and saved themselves only by a hasty retreat through the hot,
black smoke that already swept across the street. On the north
side were the old Bridewell buildings, which were being used as
9

144 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
the headquarters of the First Precinct Police. The buildings
were of wood. In a moment they were in flames. In the lock
up were twenty-five prisoners. The keeper opened the door and
bid them run for their lives. They leaped from the crackling ruin
and ran from death with a fleetness that they never displayed
with a policeman pursuing. One prisoner was lying upon the
floor stupidly drunk. The keeper could not rouse him. To
Sherman street and Clark, to Fourth and Third avenues, to State
street and Wabash avenue ran back the cry, "The flames are upon
us ! God alone can stop them ! " That cry of horror woke every
one to frenzied exertions, and, for blocks and blocks, the people
who inhabited the houses did nothing but throw out furniture
from the homes that they felt were certain to be doomed. The
gas ceased to burn, but the fierce fire furnished a ghastly light by
wliich every one could work. The streets were crowded by half-
clad multitudes.
Frightened horses were hastily harnessed into wagons, and
every one who could command a vehicle commenced to move.
Hurried on by the howling wind, the flames spread northward
and swept away block upon block of the wooden tenements
which were crowded into that quarter of the city ; but though
the general direction of the fire was northward, yet the fierce
heat fought in the face of the blast, and though slowly, yet
surely, gained in the south. Running down Clark to Taylor,
and on Taylor to the river, the writer found himself south of the
fire. From Polk street the flame had eaten back until it had
found (.umey's tannery, which, with its cords upon cords of dry
hark, made a morsel that was soon devoured. On the West
Side, the immense brick walls of the Chicago Dock Company's
storehouse presented a formidable barrier to the further south
ward progress of the flames, but along the dock the sheds were
burning. The framework seemed of harder wood than the cov
erings, for while the boards were rapidly consumed the beams

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 145
were but slowdy devoured. The framework fretted with fire
looked like a golden grapery. Upon the building a stream from
a single engine was pouring, but as well might one oppose the
straw of a pigmy to the sword of a giant. Looking down the
river, Polk street bridge was seen tumbling into the stream that
quenched its burning timbers. Burning rafts floated upon the
water. Tugs with steam up' essayed to reach the brig Fontinella,
which was lying at the dock near the burning tannery.' 'Twice
they made the attempt and twice' fell back. A third was useless.
;The flames boarded her, rah up her trigging, cut her loose kto float
' from the dock, and left her a \\k^iiie&Qi\\Va!Ihl stone-yard'bf •
the Illinois Stone Company prevefirea ffi&me running : Southward
on the river side, but the'woodetf'hbuses'oh'.Welk^freet^were
quickly in flames. Looking northward; l the 'Street 'was'afiery
vista. A lot of Norwegian emigrants' were grouped abbiit. They
were stupid with fear, and had to be ralmost forced from 'the
street. Returning as he went the 'writer reached the comer of
Clark and Polk streets, where St. Peter's German Catholic
Cliurch is located. To it as to the sanctuaries in the old feudal
times the people had crowded for safety. Its portals were piled
up with the Lares and Penates of many a burning home. - A
block across, the flame was seen running up the golden cross that
topped St. Louis Church. A moment later the church was in
ashes. On the west of Sherman street, running from Taylor- to
Polk, from Polk to Harrison, and terminating on Tan Buren
street in the magnificent passenger depot, were the long freight
houses of the Michigan Southern Railroad. Those who had the'*
coolness to think thought that these would save the district east
of them, a hope that could hardly be entertained in the face of
the fact that the massive stone passenger depot was toppling into
ruin; and yet these brick depots did save everything between
them and the lake. A portion of the massive walls of the
Pacific Hotel was seen to tumble, and to the East and North

146 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
nothing was visible but crackling ruin, nothing heard but the
roar of the flames which sounded just like the roar of the sea.
It was nearly daylight. The water supply had given out, but no
one in the south part of the city dreamed that the water had
ceased because a mile and a half away the walls of the Water
Works had tumbled upon the engines. People merely supposed
that the fire engines had exhausted the supply. Even then the
man who would have predicted the burning of the North Side
would have been considered a madman. Anxious to see the
situation down town, the writer essayed to proceed thither by
Clark street. He could not reach Van Buren. State was open
as far as Madison. Potter Palmer's buildings were tumbling in.
Hissing and hurrying on came the flames. They laughed and
crackled and roared with demoniac humor. Darting at huge
piles of masonry they kissed them with fatal fervor, and rushing
on with hellish appetite they embraced wliole blocks of brick and
marble, leaving them dust and ashes. Driven back on State
street, the writer reached the Palmer House. Porters stationed
at the doors refused entrance to any but recognized reporters.
The Sherman was gone, the Tremont was in ashes, the Briggs
had shared the common ruin, the massive Pacific was a red-hot
ruin, the Bigelow in the next block was crackling; the question
was, Shall we have a hotel left? And the people in the Palmer
had the madness to believe that the Palmer would be saved. In
half an hour it too was a shapeless mass of stone and mortar.
It was broad day. The wind had not lulled nor the fire ceased.
On and on sped the flames in their hurried and horrible march
of death and desolation. Strong men who loved Chicago better
than they loved many a friend, bowed their heads and wept at
her destruction. Terror was written upon the face of some;
despair stared from the countenance of others. Many for the
moment believed the last day had come. People prayed, and
cursed, and hurried on, and at their backs was the ever-con
suming, horrid hell of flame.

#IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 147
It is preper to narrate how the flames were stayed in their
progress southward. At the corner of Clark and Harrison streets
the Jones school was burned. A wooden primary on the same
lot escaped destruction. Why it escaped would be curious to
know. The flames, as if weary of the awful race they had run,
did not cross the street. At the corner of Fourth avenue and
Harrison street the Jewish Synagogue burned fiercely, but the
Otis block of brick buildings, on the northeast corner; of, -the
street, did not burn. At the corner of Third avenue and Ham-
sop, men with chains pulled dowii'^wobden residence .which,
though it was consumed, did nOtilrarn ^fiercely. yAt the»conier
Of State and Harrison, O'Neil's' -brick j;blbck was blown; up; by
powder, and prevented the further Spread iri' that direction. f>. At
the corner of Harrison and Wabash avenue the Methodist Church
stood as if defying the flames, and as though it uttered with the
voice of authority, " Thus far shalt thou go, and no farther."
The flames did not cross Wabash avenue south of Congress street,
one block north of Harrison ; and the south side of Congress was
6aved, the Michigan Avenue Hotel standing upon the corner
like the huge battlement of a fortress that had withstood a siege.
By noon the fire had ceased in its progress southward, and, ex
cept by uncertain rumor (and during all the fire many-tongued
rumor spread its baleful tales more rapidly than ran the wild
fire), no one south of Harrison street knew the desolation which
reigned in the North Division. Nor was it known that the city's
situation had excited the active sympathy of its neighbors, and
that steam engines had upon the wings of steam flown to our
rescue. The lake front was filled with household goods piled in the
utmost confusion. Weary watchers stood guard about their little
all; and hundreds of people, homeless and without property of
any kind, were lying about exhausted. The last was a grievous
annoyance, but the roar of the fire was a positive terror which

148 niSTOET OF THE GREAT FIRES •
drove minor considerations from the mind. From the lake front,
the destruction of the palatial block of residences known as Ter
race Row was watched with intense interest. Its burning,
although occurring in the day-time, when the spectacular effect
of fire is greatly lost, was one of the remarkable scenes of the
great tragedy. If it alone had burned, all the rhetoric at the
command of the writers on the press would have been usedin its
description. IN THE NORTH DIVISION.
The citizens of the North Division, up to three o'clock on that
terrible Monday morning, put their trust in the river and Provi
dence, hoping that their side of the city, at least, would escape.
This was not to be. The rolling Hudson itself could hardly have
stayed that tempest-driven tide of flame which was hurled irre
sistibly to the main branch of the Chicago river. Already, at
three o'clock, the court-house bell had tolled the funeral requiem
of Chicago, the gas-works had exploded, the hotels had succumbed.
The air was hot with the breath of fiends, and the fiery brands
that crossed the city on the wings of the storm obscured the stars
above, and rendered blood-red the flood beneath, while they
rained a lava-shower on the roofs of dwellings, factories, and
storehouses — a shower that to describe would need the pen of the
great novelist who has chronicled the desolation of Pompeii.
Ere yet the bridge-railings on the south side of the river had
ignited. North Water street was blazing, almost along the entire
line. The terror on the North Side now became a panic. The
thousands who had crossed the river to see the fire in the West
and South Divisions, came pouring back over the bridges and
through the tunnel, all hurrying to their homes and friends — all
flying from the furious enemy that roared and howled behind
them. The noise of the exploding material used in blowing up
houses in the track of the flames reminded one of the booming of

IN CHICAGO AND TOE WEST. 149
heavy siege guns, and the commune and the reign of terror were
being realized in the very heart of the Garden City of the West.
Wells and State street bridges were caught by the flames, and
were soon enveloped by them from one end to the other. La
Salle street tunnel drew in the mighty volume of flame from the
south, and became a submarine hell. With electric velocity the
flames seized upon the frame blocks fronting the river on the
north, and leaped from square to:square faster than an Arab steed
could gallop. The brands formed a kiud.of infernal skirmish fine,
feeling the way for the grand attack.yjThe. storni howled .with
the fury of a maniac, the flames.; raged ;Sud roared with the unr
chained malice of a million fiends. if;Nothiflg humau;cpuld stand
before, or check these combined elements. of. .annihilation. ,,,They
defied man's greatest efforts, and appeared to be kindled and fed
by the arch-demon himself.
When the fire had passed Kinzie street the terror was some
thing indescribable. Every available means of conveyance —
wagons, buggies, drays, carriages, hacks, and even hearses — were
used to convey from danger the terror-stricken people and such
household goods as they could bear away. Thousands, hastily
summoned from their beds, escaped from their already burning
homes in their night-garments. The Nicholson pavement in the
streets was on fire in every direction. The flames did not ad-
vanee in a solid column as on the south side, but broke into sec
tions, starting conflagrations here and there, while the great
main fire rushed upon what was left, and made havoc of the
whole. The fire spared one corner of Kinzie street, a few houses
between Market street and the bridge, one elevator (Newberry's),
a few lumber yards, and a coal yard or two. With this exception
it swept along the North Branch to the gas-works, taking every
stick and stone that lay in its line. If it forgot anything by ac
cident, it would return like an unsated hyena, and lick up the
miserable remains. It did not take a regular course on the

150 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FERES
north side. Some streets were ablaze half a dozen squares ahead
of the big fire. It worked with the wind and against it, with a
frightful impartiality. It held a direct northward course to Divi
sion street bridge, near the gas-works, where there are some large
vacant lots, rather damp, and without any combustible surround
ings. At this point it took an oblique turn eastward, toward
Lincoln Park, leaving the Newberry School on North avenue,
and sweeping along to Lincoln avenue to Dr. Dyer's new house;
where, on that side, it halted, having burned itself out. It left a.
couple of frame buildings in front of the park entrance, sparing
the fine park itself, hardly a shrub being injured. Not so with the
old cemeteries, Protestant and Catholic. The grass on the graves
was burned, the wooden crosses were consumed, and the grave:
stones were splintered into dust. The trees were withered like
dry leaves, hardly a skeleton remaining, while furniture piled
there for safety by the earlier fugitives only served to make a
funeral pyre. The very pest-house, down on the lake shore, was
burned to the ground, the miserable patients being obliged to
seek in the water the fate from which they fled. The affrighted
fugitives in the cemeteries fled madly towards the park, while the
air resounded with their cries and lamentations. Meanwhile the
conflagration swept eastward to the lake, taking everything that
lay before it. By this time daylight was beginning to dawn, and
with it the great water works, the pride of the city, were dis
covered to be charred and unrecognizable ruins.
To describe this fire in its details through the North Division
would be utterly impossible. It was like a battle, where all was
din, smoke, confusion, and turmoil. Each individual of the vast,
fleeing tide can tell a different story of peril and escape. Before
that awful front of flame the streets yet nnburned were packed
and jammed with myriads of human beings of every age, sex, and
condition. It reminded one of a disastrous retreat, the baggage
blocking up the highways, while tho very horses were burned to

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 151
death beneath the loads of household goods crowded upon their
wagons. Hundreds of the affrighted animals ran away, mad with
pain and terror, crushing in their flight men, women, and chil
dren. The principal lines of retreat for the north side community
living west of Clark street and north of Oak street were over Erie
and Indiana street, Chicago avenue, and North avenue bridges.
They retired to the prairie in the neighborhood of the rolling
mills, or else took refuge with their terrified and trembling friends
in the West Division. The North'Side,'tAking a line from Canal
street north, was completely annihilated.^ The little portion that
escaped belonged more properly to the north-western section.' "tU
/On Erie street and Chicago avenue the loss of life wa3 fearful.
The bridges were choked with fugitives and baggage. The wag
ons became entangled, and the frightened people either plunged
into the river and were drowned, or else fell down never to rise,
suffocated by the frightful smoke. The scene was enough to un
nerve the stoutest heart.
Through the hellish splendor of mingled gloom and fire the tall
church steeples loomed proudly against the fiery firmament.
The first spire that went down was that of the Holy Name —
Roman Catholic — Church, on State street. The crash was fearful,
and was only exceeded by the terrific noise produced by the fall
ing of the North Presbyterian Church, on Cass street, a moment
later. It was a sad sight to see the beautiful little church of
Robert Collyer succumb to the pitiless enemy ; and the hardly less
beautiful German Catholic Church of St. Joseph met the same
untimely doom. And sad was it to see the fine rows of stately
trees, which formed the shade of the North Side streets, go down
like grass, withered and blackened. The marble can be replaced
and the stone can be laid afresh, but many a long year must pass
ere we shall see again the maples and poplars and elms.
Those of the North Side inhabitants who lived in that section'
lvin«' between Clark street on the west and Lake on the east, and

152 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
between Chicago avenue on the north and the river on the south,
were the last to suffer. They expected that the flames would pass
by them, as they had already burned up to the Newberry school
before Rush street was engulphed. This hope, like so many
others, was doomed to be of short duration. Very soon the cry
arose that Rush street bridge was burning, while the large reap
ing machine factory of C. H. McCormick was discovered to be a
blazing ruin. Presently the old Lake House, built in 1837, and.
situated on Michigan, near the corner of Rush street, shot up a
column of flame, wliich proclaimed that the fiend had seized:,
upon it.
This was the signal for a general stampede. The roughs that
infested the lower streets, near the river, broke into the saloons"
and drank what liquor they could find. Many of these ruffians
were draymen and wharf-rats, and their conduct Avas ruffianly in
the extreme. Hell seemed to have vomited these wretches forth
as fitting denizens of the fiery air around them. The robbers
broke into and sacked many houses, the inhabitants thereof being
only too glad to get away at any price. Retreat to the north was
cut off, for already the flames had fired the water works and were
burning the pier at the foot of Superior street. The destruction
of Rush street bridge precluded a southward flight, and, besides,
the South Side was one ocean of fire. Everything was burned
on a line with Rush street, and that was already beginning to go.
Language cannot portray the scenes that ensued. Everything
was placed on some kind of. vehicle, horses were let loose from
their stables, children were flung into carts with their half crazy
mothers, the lower orders were raging drunk, while the respectable
people were wholly demoralized. For a time it looked as if the
final day had come for all these thousands, for the lire was rush
ing down upon them like an avenging spirit. On most faces was
depicted terror ; on the fewer calm indifference or detestable bru
tality. Women cried out for aid to save their little ones. Their

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 153
entreaties were disregarded, or else were made the theme for ri
bald jokes by the inebriated ruffians from the purlieus of North
Water and Kinzie streets. Happy were those women and chil
dren who had husbands and father to protect them. Where were
all these affrighted beings tending to ? The cry of " To the
sands ! To the sands ! " was heard on every side, and to the sands
everybody fled as by commoD intuition.:
The "Sands" have long been notorious; in the annals of the
city. They used to be infestedj_with.lhe lyilest of vile rookeri<esi
until long John Wentworth,',when.iheijWa_j.iMayor. of Chicago,!
became a justifiable incendiary and burned. them all out. Since
then they have been almost deserted.>3;They; jire, that portion of
the lake shore lying between St.Clair street and Lake Michigan,
and between the North Pier and -the Water Works. A more
desolate place could hardly be imagined. 2 The, sand there, has
been drifted into small mountains, which half conceal knots of
miserable shanties, wherein the Arabs of the North Side used to
dwell. In most parts these houses reached nearly to the water's
edge. In a few places there was an extent of some hundred yards
in width. The place might have been comparatively safe from
the fire, only that at the foot of Erie street was the large wooden
bath house, dry as tinder, and along the southern section, toward
the pier, stretched an immense varnish factory, an oil refinery,
and a long range of sheds in which pitch and tar were stored in
large barrels. All this made the situation anytliing but pleasant,
and very far from secure. All the space unoccupied by houses
and lumber was, on that eventful morning, crowded with trunks,
bedsteads, mattrasses, pianos, chairs, tables, bundles of clothing,
feather-beds, people; horses, wagons, and almost everything that
goes to make up a large city ; besides there were numerous bar
rels of 'whiskey which had been rolled down from the hell shops
further up by the dissolute wretches.
Day was just breaking when the conflagration had reached the

154 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
edge of the sands. The gale continued to drive with fury, and
the sand and smoke combined to pelt the very eyes out of the
wretched thousands crowded on that desolate place. Soon the
smoke became so dense that the sands were dark as at midnight.
The strongest constitution could not look that wind in the teeth
and remain alive. The people fled down to the very water, while
the flames burst through the dense smoke and leaped after them.-.-
The fiery brands fell amid the furniture and bed clothing, soon .
setting the entire shore in a blaze. Hundreds of horees broke-.'
from their owners and ran into the lake ; the wagons, which were';
run into the water for safety, took fire where they stood, and
burned to the water's edge. Scores of horses perished in. the
waves, which, even against the wind, leaped upon the shore-like
mad things of life. -;
At nine o'clock on Monday morning, sixteen hours after the
breaking out of the conflagration, the varnish factory and the rest
took fire, raising a wall of flame between the people and the west.
All now gave themselves up for lost. The brands came down by
thousands, causing the water to hiss where they fell. The clothes
of women caught fire from this fatal shower, and one old woman,
named McAvoy, was burned to death before she could be rescued.
The smoke grew more dense every moment, and the sense of
suffocation was dreadful. Women screamed in utter despair,
while the poor children were stricken mute with terror. A num
ber of people were smothered at the bath house. Thousands
threw themselves on their faces in the hot sand, while hundreds
rushed into the lake up to their necks. The final day could not
have brought more terror with its dawn. The great fear was
that the north pier itself would go, in wliich event hundreds, if
not thousands, of people must have perished. Fortunately, be
tween the varnish factory and the foot of the pier there lay a
broad expanse of sand, and the people on the pier used their hats
and a few buckets to extinguish the brands that continued to fall

IN CHICAGO AND TOE WEST. 155
upon the structure. At eleven o'clock that morning the factory
was burned out, the pier was saved, and the people began tc
hope. There was no food and no prospect of any. Five large
steamers — Goodrich's — were standing out near the crib in the
lake, and a score of steamers were lying to, under bare poles,
watching the tableau on shore. Not a sail ventured to approach
the sands. The afternoon wore away and the evening shadows
were coming to lend a deeper gloom to the smoke- wreaths when
a fleet of tug-boats, sent down by _t|ie Mayor, came to the relief
of the unfortunates. Most of them, were -taken off and landed;
up through the heated river, at jKinziosJjreet bridge, while the
others slept that night on the shore, guarding the few household
articles that remained to them. The wjjeck gf home comforts; lay
along that sorrow-laden beach, and some human beings lay there
dead. When the sun went down that Monday night, the 10th
of October, 1871, he set upon a waste of ruined homes, the lost
treasures of grief- wrung hearts, all that- remained of world-
renowed Chicago.

CHAPTER xxn.

Men are always anxious to search out the origin of things that
interest and concern them. They spend their energies in the inves
tigation of the origin of the human species, and some are even will
ing to trace their ancestry back to the monkey, or to lower animals.
The old Scripture remark is verified once more — " How great a
matter a little fire kindleth ! " and we are reminded of the in
definite influence of trifles upon human destiny. To a very
humble and mean source must we trace the fire that consumed
the great city ; and we confess that if God had any retributive
design, He employed an instrument well calculated to humble

156 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
our pride. The reporters are doubtless disposed to throw an ail
of tragedy around what is commonplace, or to set forth by ludi
crous description the comedy of the
CRADLE OF THE FIRE.
The Times said : — Flames were discovered in a small stable in
the rear of a house on the corner of De Koven and Jefferson
streets. Living at the place indicated was an old Irishwoman,
who had for many years been -a pensioner on the connty. It was
her weekly custom to apply to the county agent for relief, which
in all cases was freely granted her. Her very appearance
indicated great poverty. She was apparently about seventy
years of age, and was bent almost double with the weight "of
many years of toil, and trouble, and privation. Her dress corre
sponded with her demands, being ragged and dirty in the extreme.
One day an old man entered the county agent's office and
asked that a load of wood be sent to his house, on the West
side. On being questioned, he acknowledged the ownership
of considerable property, but said he was no better off than
Mrs. So and so, referring to the old woman. This remark led to
further inquiries, when the agent learned to his astonishment that
his supposed pauper owned the ground and the house in which
she lived, and was besides the proprietor of a famous milch cow,
which furnished enough of the lacteal fluid to supply innumera
ble neighbors. As a matter of course theagentat once cut off her
supplies, and when he took her to task for having deceived him,
the old hug swore she would be revenged on a city that would
deny her a hit of wood or a pound of bacon. How well she
kept her word is not known, but there are those who insist the
woman -cf, the barn on fire, and thus inaugurated the most terri
ble calamity in the history of nations. In justice, however, to
the old lady, her own story is given.
On the morning of the fire she was found sitting on the front

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 157
steps of her own house. Her attenuated form was bent forward,
her head resting on her hands. She was rocking to and fro,
moaning and groaning, and crying aloud after the manner of her
countrywomen when in great trouble. At first she refused to
speak one word about the fire, but only screamed at the top of
her voice, " My poor cow ; my poor cow. She is gone, and I
have nothing left in the world." Finally she was induced to
talk, and this is what she said : It had been her regular nightly
habit to visit the stable and see if her cow was all right. :? On
Sunday night, about half-past nine o'clock, she took a lamp in her
hands, and went out to have a look at herpet ^Then she took a
notion the cow must have some sal t/fatid- she set" down' the'laflip
and went in the house for some.y;-Itra moment the cow had
accidentally kicked over the lamp, an explosion. followed, and in
an instant the structure was enveloped in flames.
The house on the corner, owned by the old hag who had caused
all the desolation, was untouched. It stood there yesterday, and
it stands there to-day, a sad monument of the past. It rears its
lowly front on the borders of an almost destroyed city, and is'the
only survivor of hundreds of neighbors like itself, lowly in ap
pearance, but the all of many a working man. Alas ! how
miserable a monument it is, and how sickening the thought that
it alone should escape the sea of fire !
The JVew York Tribune's correspondent thus immortalizes the
humble scene : I have here before me six miles, more or less, of
the finest conflagration ever seen, I have smoking ruins and
ruins which have broken themselves of smoking ; churches as
romantic in their dilapidation as Melrose by moonlight; moun
tains of brick and mortar, and forests of springing chimneys; but
I turned from them all this morning to hunt for the spot where
the fire started. It is the greatest and most brilliant apparition
of the nineteenth century — more reckless than Fisk, more remorse
less than Bismarck. Some details of its early life might not be

158 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
without edification. There may be lessons in its cradle and its
grave. These were the thoughts that justified me in going to
De Kovcn street, though the real reason was that I wa3 curious to
see the first footprint of the monster who had trampled a great
city out of existence in a day.
Nothing could he more ignoble and commonplace than this
quarter of Chicago. I reached it by crossing over the long draw
bridge at Twelfth street, which was swinging gracefully on its
pivot as I came. The streets were all filled with wagons loaded
down with furniture, which exposed to the gaze of the loungers
the broken life of the family. The air of the quarter was wholly
foreign, and not quite reputable. Even the little church of St.
Wenzel added to the Bohemian air of the district. German
volunteers were guarding the relief stores from hungry Czechs,
who would make irregular forays on the provisions. Both sides
thought their dignity required they should speak English instead
of their native tongue. " Keep your fingers von dem pretzels off,
or you'll git a het on you." "Yes ! I bet you got a heap o' style,
don't it." These colloquies sometimes give us moments of con
jecture as to the final doom of our language. I found De Koven
street at last, a mean little street of shabby wooden houses, with
dirty door-yards and unpainted fences falling to decay. It had no
look of Chicago about it. Take it up bodily and drop it out on
the prairie, and its name might be Lickskillet Station as well as
anything else. The street was unpaved and littered with old
boxes and mildewed papers, and a dozen absurd geese wandered
about with rustic familiarity. Slatternly women lounged at the
gates, and burc-1 egged children kept up an evidently traditional
warfare of skirmishing with the geese. On the south side of the
street not a house was touched. On the north only one remained.
All the rest were simply ashes. There were no piles of ruin here.
The wooden hovels left no landmarks except here and there a
stunted chimney too squat to fall. The grade had been raised

buok-H-Usiw *ow. sTvr_ street.

ILLINOIS AM) MICHIGAN CEN'IKAL R.R. DEPOT

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 161
in places and left untouched in others, so that now, as in the
North Division, the roads seemed like viaducts, and scorched
and blackened trees seemed growing out of sodded cellars.
But of all the miserable plain stretching out before me to
the burning coal-heaps in the northern distance, I was only
interested in the narrow block between De Koven and Taylor
streets, now quite flat arid cool, with small gutter-boys marching
through the lots, some kicking with bare feet in the light
ashes for suspected and sporadic :icoaJs, and others prudently
mounted on stilts, which sunk from tinie to time in the spongy
soil and caused the young acrobats to descend ignominibusly and
pull them out. This was the Mecca of .liny pilgrimage, for here
the fire began. One squalid little hovel alone remained intact
in all that vast expanse. A warped and weather-beaten shanty
of two rooms, perched on thin piles, with tin plates nailed half
way down them like dirty pantalets. There was no shabbier hut
in Chicago nor in Tipperary. But it stood there safe, while a city
had perished before it and around it. It was preserved by its
own destructive significance. It wa3 made sacred by the curse
that rested on it — a curse more deadly than that which darkened
the lintels of the house of Thyestes. For out of that house, last
Sunday night, came a woman with a lamp to the barn behind the
house, to milk the cow with the crumpled temper, that kicked
the lamp, that spilled the kerosene, that fired the straw, that
burned Chicago. And there to this hour stands that craven little
house, holding on tightly to its miserable existence.
I stood on the sidewalk opposite, as in duty bound, calling up
the appropriate emotions. A strange, wrinkled face on a dwarf
ish body came up and said, " That's a dhreadful sight." I assent
ed, and he continued in a melancholy croon : "Forty year I've
lived here — and there wasn't a brick house but wan, and that was
the Lakeside House, and it's gone now ; an' av ye'll belave me,
Soor I niver see a fire loike that." I believed him thoroughly,
10

102 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRE8
and he w-ent away. My emotions not being satisfactory from a
front view of the shanty, 1 went around to the rear, and there
found the man of the house sitting with two of his friends. His
wife. Our Lady of the Lamp — freighted with heavier disaster than
that which Psyche curried to the bed-side of Eros — sat at the win
dow, knitting. I approached the man of the house and gave him
good-day. Ho glanced up with sleepy, furtive eyes. I asked him
what he knew about the origin of the fire. He glanced at his
friends and said, civilly, he knew very little -} he was waked up
about 9 o'clock by the alarm, and fought from that time to save
his house ; at every sentence he turned to his friends and said, "I
can prove it by them," to which they nodded assent. He seemed
fearful that all Chicago was coming down upon him for
prompt and integral payment of that $200,000,000 his cow had
kicked over. His neighbors say this story is an invention dating
from the second day of the fire.

CHAPTER XXII.

A City Sovereign in the golden West,
Eut yesterday mag-nincent in pride,
To-day the wail of anguish, from her breast
Wakes echoes to each mighty ocean's tide.
A wail of anguish, rung out by the flames
That licked her splendors level to the dust,
Aad blazoned hers the chief of ill-starred names
That history holds in melancholy trust.
Her matchless miracle of sudden rise,
That mocked at fable and enchantment's art,
Is pei.i-lcss now no more in our sad eyes,
That see her glories like a dream depart

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 163
Her palaces wero poems wrought in stone —
Her marts, like Egypt's, for the world poured grain.
Her prairies girt her with a golden zone :
Her fame seemed that of Carthage come again.
But Eoman legions at Chicago's breast
Hurled no red bolts that hapless Carthage rent ;
In peace the hot cup to her lips was prest,
And shrieking to her funeral pyre she went.
O day of horror ! day of ruthless woe,
**- ' -'* • ' ¦ ' •
That stripped the West's young queen of all her pride ;
Her stately domes and lofty towers laid low,
And 'whelmed her homes in terror's crimson tide.
Checked are the currents of her boundless trade,
Her giant granaries smoke with smoldering wheat ;
Her daughters, in her silks no more arrayed,
Half clad and homeless, shiver on the street.
If of her magic growth her heart beat proud,
And in her stones and stocks she took delight, —
If rivals lightly called her fast and loud,
None grudge her tears of pity in her plight.
Proud, but beneficent, and fast to spend
The easy gold her skill was swift to make ;
Of arts and toil at royal rate the friend,
And wisdom's lover for its own sweet sake.
Ah, luckless queen — her strength and beauty scarred
She lies to-day on ashes for her bed ;
And all the land in her despoil is marred,
And all its joy in her despair is dead.
The East and West their eager hands stretch forth,
To pour their wine and oil at her scorched feet,
Iu love and largess blend the South and North —
A people's pain and pity swift to meet.
Her sons her crumbled greatness will rebuild,
When the blanched terror flies their kindling lips,
And the glad glow of pride again shall gild
Their Queen's fair face, now prone in foul eclipse.
W. C. ElCHARDS.

164 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
in accordance with our purpose to allow the reader to see thii
terrible panorama in all its length and breadth, under the best
lights available, we place at this point —
THE TI1IE3' REPORT.
Hardly had the first alarm sounded than it was followed by
another from the same box, and this in turn by a third, or general
alarm, which summoned to that vicinity every available steam-en
gine in the citv.
But all the engines in the country were powerless to have pre
vented the disaster which already seemed inevitable. The wind
was blowing a perfect gale from the south-southwest. "With ter
rible effect the flames leaped around in mad delight, and seized
upon everything combustible. Shed after shed went down, and
dwelling-houses followed in rapid succession. With a fierceness
perfectly indescribable the fiery fiend reached out its red-hot
tongue and licked up the dry material. Block after block gave
way, and family after family were driven from their homes. The
fire department were powerless to prevent the spreading of the
calamity. The red demon of destruction was let loose, and in
all his fierceness increased by a long restraint, it seized upon
every destructible object and blotted it from the face of the
earth. At first it was one structure on fire ; then another and another
were swallowed up in a whirlpool of flames.
The wind continued its roaring, driving fierceness, and house
after house was burned. To the left tho fire spread forth its
heat like the leaves of a fan until all of the eastern side of Jeffer
son street was enveloped in the furnace. To the right it had
been driven with great fierceness, and Clinton street and Canal
street, and Beach street, and then the railroads which run along
the western shore of the south branch were in its grasp. Now
was the fire at its fiercest. Upward of twenty blocks were burn-

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 165
ing. Upward of 1,500 buildings, including outhouses, were on
fire. Upward of 500 families were fleeing from the seeming
wrath to come. The streets were almost impassable. Carriages
and wagons, and drays, and carts, and all sorts of vehicles were
brought into requisition, and were speedily loaded with household
goods. Empty wagons were filled with freight, and where there
were no beasts of burden to draw the load human hands sprang
to the rescue and dragged the property toward the north. ..Then
the fire reached over the street, and while that terrible soiithwestr
era wind howled in mad delight,, it;[fprced its way into the
planing-mills, and the chair-factories, sand,, all the other shops
which skirted the creek in that portion of. West Chicago. ;, Then
it got into the lumber-yards, and into the railroad shops, and , the
round houses were soon wrapped in its. dead embrace. The bricks
themselves seemed only additional fnel. ,, The rolling-stock in the
railroad yards seemed but a bit of kindling which helped along a
fire already fiercely intense.
But, worst of all, the elevators were next in danger. For a few
moments it seemed as though one or two of the largest ones would
resist the flames and pass through the fire ordeal unscathed. But
this thought was not of long duration, for an instant later and
the immense piles were in flames from top to bottom.
Like the advance of a great army the fire
MOVED FORWARD IN SEVERAL COLUMNS,
and like a well-whipped, but nnconqnered foe, the fire depart
ment slowly retreated. But they stubbornly contested every foot
of ground, however, and would not surrender, although often
almost entirely surrounded by the dread enemy. Then they
would cut their way out and retreat for a short distance, only to
turn again and huri their charges of thousands of gallons of water
full into the face of the enemy. But no power on earth could
stem the torrent. .Never did firemen fight more fiercely to con-

166 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
quer, and never before did their heroic efforts seem so utterly in
vain. Folk street was reached, and here a desperate stand was
made. One steamer, the Frank Sherman, stood at the plug on the
corner of Polk and Clinton streets until the heat had scorched hair
from the impatient horses' limbs, and the brave engineer and the
plucky stoker had almost lost all their whiskers. Then the word
was given to retreat and run. As they went the pipemen faced
tho foe and shouted to the driver to stop at the first plug and let
them at it again. Hope street proved a sad misnomer for the
firemen, and the poor folks who lived thereon, like those entering
Dante's hell, were forced to leave all hope behind.
And now to add to the terrible reality of the dread scene it was
discovered that a building was on fire awav to the rear. Between
Gurley and Harrison streets a barn was all ablaze, and before a
steamer could reach the spot other barns innumerable were
fiercely burning. It was the onslaught of a cavalry corps on the
retreating army's rear, and all seemed hopeless. There was one
thing noticeable, however, and worthy of special mention. The
fierce wind had veered around toward the west somewhat, and
now the fire was skipping some houses on the western outskirts of
the block bounded by Jefferson and Clinton streets. To be sure
there were not many of these escapes, but the fact was apparent,
and it cheered the soul of every one. Every one seemed to think
it would surely stop at the river, so far as the eastern wing of the
advancing flame was concerned, and now that the western wing
seemed willing to be lenient, it only depended on its front when
a permanent check would be placed upon it. It was only about
three blocks to Van Buren street, and here commenced the burnt
district of the night before. No one supposed it would be able
to go farther in that direction. There was nothing for it to feed
upon. The four blocks of fire which had raged with such fierce- K
ness on Saturday night had left no supplies for the invaders, and
its further march vould either have to stop or continue over a

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 167
barren desert. This latter could not be, and more and more
hopeful grew the immense concourse of citizens.
Across Harrison street and Tyler street and along Van Buren
street the monster ran, carrying destruction in its fiery course.
At the approach to Van Buren street bridge stood the steamer,
Fred Gund, a first-class Amoskeag engine, with a complement of
officers and men in skill and daring second to none in the land.
The steamer was completely surrounded by fire, and for their very
lives the boys were forced to fly. They left their engine, but they
have the proud consciousness of knowing she went down in a sea
of fire with steam up and while fiercely fighting the advancing
foe. Here and there, and almost every where^ lay thousands of feet of
hose stretched to its utmost tension with watery ammunition,
which the powerful engines were constantly throwing on the
blaze. The fire had now reached what was supposed its limits.
TO THE NORTH,
illuminated by the great light of thousands of burning buildings,
lay stretched out those four or five immense blocks of blackened
ruins. It was not possible for the fire to continue further in that
direction. It seemed hardly possible for it to reach across the
river at this point. The width of the stream precluded such a
thought. The wind was blowing the sparks and large firebrands
toward the north and east, but, while all feared for them, no one
supposed for an instant the sequel. The newspaper reporters,
who had been from the first alarm fighting with fire and with
human beings in the endeavor to obtain authentic information as
to losses and insurance, and, failing in that, were only dealing in
general results, hastened to their respective offices to " write up "
the grandest blaze they had ever seen. Only one man was left tc
M'atch the final result and take to the office, as was then supposed,
the going down of the fire. Blackened with smoke, with hair

168 niSTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
and clothing scorched, tired and thirsty, the weary reporters for
The Times sought their carriages and were driven ever so fast to
the office on Dearborn street, South Side. Hardly had they
started, however, than away to the north and east, fully five
blocks distant, a small flame broke forth and lighted up the
alreadv brilliant heavens. The sight sent an awful shudder to
the soul of every man, woman, and child who saw it. For a
moment every one was spell-bound and speechless. Just where it
was, was as yet unknown ; but it seemed to be in the neighborhood
of the South Side gas works, and there was no one in all that vast
concourse of people but who. knew the great danger which was
alreadv threatening the other side of the river. Every moment
witnessed an increase in the blaze, and presently the outlines of
the immense reservoir told the story of its immediate vicinity.
Fire-Marshal Williams at once sent every available engine to the
South Side, and prepared to follow with the remainder immedi
ately. But the flames mounted higher, and the fire grew fiercer,
and spread itself out in all directions, until it was impossible to
stay its further progress.
In the South Division as early as twelve o'clock the air was
hot with the fierce breath of the conflagration. The gale blew
savagely, and upon its wings were borne pelting cinders, black
driving smoke, blazing bits of timber, and glowing coals. These
swept in a torrid rain over the river, drifting upon housetops
and drying the wooden buildings along the southern terminus of
Market, Franklin, Adams, Monroe, and Madison streets, still
closer to the combustion point for wliich they were already too
well prepared.
The housetops were covered with anxious workers, and cistern
streams, tubs, and buckets were) in constant use to subdue the
dying bits of fire that were constantly clinging to shingles and
cornices. Passing eastward over the Madison street bridge, at this hour,

IN CmCAGO AND THE WEST. 160
was an undertaking accompanied with the risk of suffocation,
while once across, the hot wind tore so fiercelv along the thor-
onghfare in question, as to wrench off signs and topple over
sheds. The streets were now swarming in this portion of the
city with the wretched people who had been driven from their
homes by the fire in the West Division. A large portion of these
were directing their way toward the North Side, and one of
the most pitiable sequences of the continued conflagration was
that hundreds of poor families were forced, on several occasions,
from the places where they had vainly hoped to find rest, after
having been burnt out before.
The writer, near the corner of Madison and Wells streets, aided
a Swede in extinguishing a blazing pile of bed clothing which
had ignited, as he was rushing along with his burden, from a
brand of burning wood that might have been whirled through the
air a mile or more. Several similar incidents were noted, and,
in the frightful rapidity with which the clothes of the hurrying
pedestrians and the more exposed portions of the smaller build
ings took fire, a terrible premonition was afforded of what would
be the fate of this portion of the city if the conflagration should
but once obtain a hold within its precincts.
Van Buren street was soon crossed ; the gale continued to in
crease ; the air was flecked with bnrning cinders as high as the
eye could reach ; immense firebrands were carried for a distance
of more than a mile, dropping them all over the eastern portion
of the South Side, and then were the first misgivings felt that the
destruction would not stop at the river — apprehensions destined
but too soon to be fully realized.
The first foothold obtained by the destroying angel in the
South Division was in the tar works adjacent to the gas works,
just south of Adams street, and nearly- opposite the armory.
Almost instantaneously the structure was one livid sheet of flame,
emitting a dense volume of thijk black smoke that curtained this

170 niSTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
portion of the city as with the pall of doom. Faster than a man
could walk the flames leaped from house to house until Fifth
avenue (Wells street) was reached. A steamer or two were sent
around, but their previous experiences were only repeated, and
no perceptible check was given to the onward progress of the
flames. From the gas works to the point it had now reached,
nearly the entire space was filled with small wooden structures,
and their demolition was the work of but a few minutes.
Apparently but a few minutes subsequent to the ignition of
the gas works the wooden buildings south of the armory were
found to be on fire, forming the apex of another widening track
of desolation, and very soon joining with the other, the two unit
ing like twin demons of destruction, the armory helping to glut
their fiendish cravings. Its massive walls soon yielded, and were
tumbled into a shapeless mass.
It might be of interest here to note the peculiarities of the wind
currents and their effects, which were such as could only have
been produced by such a conflagration as is being described.
During all this time, as during the entire continuance of the fire,
the wind was blowing a gale from a southwesterly direction; and
above the tops of the buildings its course from midnight until
four or five o'clock varied but little, not veering more than one
or two points of the compass. To the observer on the street,
however, traversing the main thoroughfares and the alleys, the
wind would seem to come from every direction. This is easily
explained. New centres of intense heat were being continually
formed; and the sudden rarefication of the air in the different
localities, and its consequent displacement, caused continually arti
ficial currents, which swept around the corners and through the
alleys in every direction, often with the fury of a tornado. This
will account, partly for the rapid widening of the tracks of devas
tation from their apex to the Lake, as well as the phenomenon of
fire — to use a nautical phrases — "eating into the wind."

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 171
The grand Pacific Hotel, upon which the roof had but just been
placed, and which, like the still-born child, was created only for
the grave, was among the first of the better class of structures
assaulted by the fire. Angered at its imposing front, and scorn
ing the implied durability of its superb dimensions, the flames
stormed relentlessly in, above and around it, until, assured that
it was at their absolute mercy, they left it tottering to the earth,
and crawled luridly along the street in search of further prey. ' It
was now that the waves of fire began to take upon themselves
the mightiest of proportions. ..cnftL^tr^^ '' ' ; y ,''
How it was that while even a hundred buildings might be
blazing, others, far in advance of the track of the storm, could not
be protected, has not been understood by those who were not de
spairingly following the course of destruction. It was partly on
account of the artificial currents already mentioned, and because
the huge tongues of flame actually stretched themselves out upon
the pinions of the wind for acres. Sheets of fire would reach
over entire blocks, wrapping in every building inclosed by the
four streets bounding them, and scarcely allowing the dwellers
in the houses time to dash away unscorched. Hardly twenty
minutes had elapsed from the burning of the Pacific Hotel before
the fire had cut its hot swathe through every one of the magnifi
cent buildings intervening upon La Salle street, and had fallen
mercilessly upon the Chamber of Commerce. The few heroic
workers of the police and fire department who had not already
dropped out of the ranks of fighters from sheer exhaustion, sought
to once more check the progress of devastation by the aid of
powder. A number of kegs were thrown into the basement of
the grand business palace of the Merchants' Insurance Company.
A slow match was applied, and as the crowd drew back the ex
plosion ensued. A broad, black chasm was opened in the face
of the street ; but with as little attention to the space intervening
as though it had onlv been across an ordinary alley, the arms of

172 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
flame swung over the gap, and tore lustily at the rows of bank
ing houses and insurance structures beyond.
The Court-House was now faced with a swaying front of fire on
the south and west sides. But as the building was in the centre
of an open square, and solidly constructed, it was taken as a
matter of course that it would be able to survive, if nothing else
should be left standing around it.
" Talk about the Court-House," said a leading banker, among
the spectators, whose own establishment had already been melted
to the very foundations, " it will show to be about the only sound
building on the South Side to morrow." And yet, in another five
minutes, a great burning timber, wrenched from the tumbling
ruins of a La Salle street edifice, had been hurled in wild fury at
the wooden dome of the Court-House. As if a thousand slaves of
the fire-king had hidden within the fatal structure awaiting this
signal, the flames seemed to leap to simultaneous life in every
part of the building, and soon the hot, smirched walls alone re
mained. The course of the fire was now directed almost due east
for a few minutes, and Hooley's Opera House, the Republican
office, and the whole of Washington street to Dearborn, was con
sumed. Crosby's Opera House came next in order. Renovations
to the extent of §80,000 had just been instituted in this edifice, and
the place was to have been re-dedicated that same night by the
Thomas Orchestra. The combustible nature of the building caused
it to burn with astonishing rapidity, and soon its walls surged in,
carrying with them, among other treasures, the contents of three
mammoth piano houses and a number of art treasures, including
paintings hy some of the leading masters of the Old and New
Worlds. The St. Tames Hotel was next fired, and here, at the
corner of State and Msdison streets, the two savage currents of
fire that had ptirtcd company near the Chamber of Commerce
joined hideous issue once more. The course of one of these cur
rents has been indicated. The other had swept down Franklin.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST.

Wells, and La Salle streets to the main banks of the river, swal
lowing elevators, banks, trade palaces, the Briggs, Sherman,
Tremont, and other large hotels, Wood's Museum, the beautiful
structures of Lake and Randolph streets, and the entire surface
comprised between Market, South Water, Washington, and State
streets. Many lives were known to have been lost up to this time.
But in the infernal furnace into which Chicago had been turned, it
was impossible to conjecture or dare to imagine how many. . . The
heat, more intense than anything that had ever been recorded in
the annals of broad-spread conflagrations in the past, had fairly
crumbled to hot dust and ashes the heaviest of building istone.
What chance was there then of ever finding the remains of lost
humanity by those who were already inquiring with mad anxiety
for the missing ones?
But all thoughts of others soon began to vanish in fears foi
the safety of the living.
The stoutest of masonry and thickest of iron had disappeared
like wax before the blast.

second only in size and value of contents to one dry-goods house
in the land, was already in flames. The streets were fast becom
ing crammed with vehicles conveying valuables, and the side
walks were running over with jostling men and women, all in a
dazed, wild strife for the salvation of self, friends, and property.
The thieving horror had not yet broken out, and up to this time
there had been a common, noble striving to aid the sufferers and
stay the march of the demoniacal fire.
But now the sensation of weary despair, mingled with a grim
acceptance of crushing fate, began to be noticed in the tones and
doings of the populace. Liquor had flown freely, and from its
primal nerving to heroism had passed to the usual inciting tc
recklessness and indifference. Thieves were beginning to ply their

174 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
trade, and for once found more to steal than they could carry
away ; and express drivers and hackmen were charging atrocious
prices ere they would consent to aid in removing goods from
buildings thus far unconsumed. Hundreds of poor families were
being rendered homeless, presenting pictures of squalid misery
most pitiable. This was the first, path that, like an immense
windfall, mowed its way through the heart of the city to the
North Division on the one hand and to the Lake on the other.
Crackling and laughing demoniacally at the ruin and misery left
behind, eager for more valuable prey, the flames sped on, taking
in their course — the track continually widening from the causes
mentioned above — Farwell Hall and the elegant stone structures
surrounding it, and all the newspaper offices except that of the
Tribune, leaving nothing behind but the grandest ruins the world
ever saw. The reporters continued their work until what had
been probable became a certainty — that The Times was doomed.
It was then resolved to go to press at once, and, if possible, serve
a portion of the subscribers, at least, with an account of the fear
ful calamity. The last words written were in the shape of a
postscript, as follows :
•'Tie Very Latest — The entire business portion of the city is burning np,
and The Times building is doomed."
The fire had already crossed Madison street, and it soon became
apparent that the idea of issuing any copies of the paper must
be abandoned. All efforts to that end ceased, and all endeavors
were directed to the saving of as much as possible. It was too
late, however, and comparatively little excepting the files were
saved. The building caught fire in the upper story at about
three o'clock, and fairly melted away under the intense heat to
which it was subject. In half an hour nothing remained but a
pile of smoking, smouldering debris.
The block bounded by Dearborn, Washington, State, and
Madison streets was some little time in burning. Indeed, after

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 175
the corner occupied by the Union Trust and Savings Institution
had burned, it was believed that the vacant 150 feet front lot, cre
ated a short time before by the tearing down of the old Dearborn
school, would save Mayo's corner and the St. Denis Hotel. But
the fire, in spite of the terrible strength of the wind in the other
direction, eventually contrived to beat up against the gale, and,
by devouring the stores of Gossage and others, on the west side
of State, and the book-houses of Griggs, Keene & Cooke, and the
Western News Company, on the east side, to blister the St.
Denis to the igniting point, and then McVicker's Theatre and
' " ' >'"',; ,.*:..»',;/'i>_,?; ¦;. - . ¦ ¦.. o».»..i.
the Tribune building formed the northern, boundary of the South
Division. ..." .,., , , ,.¦,.
—t ' 6».u',;"r*Lv#:j".t5 ¦.(. ...'Sijfo.iA-v
It was here that the few workers now left with courage enough
to contest with miserable fortune made their final stand. The
Tribune building was believed to be fire-proof, if any structure
devised by man could be proof against such a combination of the
elements as was now ragiDg.
The Post-office had yielded to the assault and was only a
smoldering ruin, and from away down to the devastated depot
of the Illinois Central the flames had pushed back until they in
terlocked once more at the Custom-House with the fire that had
torn its way from the Michigan Central Depot. Surrounded
by the enemy on every quarter, and having held proudly up
against the attack till long after daybreak, there was the same
sad capitulations enacted here that had been the story of the
entire night.
McVicker's yielded first, and was instantly a heap of brick and
ashes, and the Tribune structure was not long in following, the
walls of this latter structure, with those of the Custom-House,
First National Bank, and Court-House, proving the most stub
born evidences of the worth of the architect's skill remaining in
Chicago. Up to this time the. elegant and costly row of buildings on

176 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
Dearborn street, north of the Post-Office, had escaped. They
included the two Honore structures, the Bigelow House, which
was soon to have been opened, and the De Haven block, the
latter extending from Quincy to Jackson street. The two blocks
bounded by Monroe, State, Jackson, and Dearborn streets, that
resting on Jackson street, including the Palmer House and the
Academy of Design, were also intact. A new line of flame, how
ever, had been formed some distance to the southward of the
Armory and west of the Michigan Southern Depot, and was
sweeping on in its mad, resistless career, and it was felt that the
above-mentioned property was in the greatest peril.
The depot, a noble stone structure, upon which great reliance
was placed for the safety of the adjacent property to the eastward,
made but a feeble resistance, and soon, with a large number of
passenger-cars inside, was in ruins. The large row of wooden
tenements on Griswold street, fronting the depot on the east, suc
cumbed at once, presenting a wall of fire of the length of the
depot. It burned rapidly through to Third avenue, but at that
point the wind, which had begun to show a changeableness it had
not previously exhibited, veered to a point considerably east of
south, in which quarter it remained for some time. Encouraged
by this, ti desperate fight was made on Third avenue, and for
some minute.. — minutes that seemed hours in the torturing, alter
nations of hope and fear — the fiery monster was held at bay.
The stone-yards on La Salle street also temporarily checked the'
progress of the fire south. Thousands of people occupying the
large tract from Third avenue and Dearborn street to the Lake,
watched the result of the battle that was to decide the fate of
their homes with anxious countenances and bated breath. The
wind benignly continued to blow from the same quarter, and the
hopes that had been raised, slight at first, grew stronger. It was .
an awful eri.-is.
At no period in the history of that terrible day were more mo-

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 179
meutous interests trembling in the balance. The occupants of
the Michigan-avenue palaces and the humble cottagers were there
side by side, breathing supplications and agonizing prayers that
their hearthstones might be spared. Many who read this were
there ; how futile the attempt to portray their feelings to thoso
who were not.
Making a clean skip over the De Haven block, a shower of fire
brands, hurled thither by a treacherous gust of wind, alighted on
the roof of the Bigelow House, and that magnificent building was
soon a seething furnace of flame, quickly followed by the two
Honore buildings. ¦.: • '¦¦< ¦ Auliiii i^,{y
The one nearest the Bigelow Hotel was unfinished, but was rap
idly approaching completion, and as a model of architectural
beauty was hardly rivalled in the city.
From these buildings, as if maddened at their slight detention,
the flames spread to the standing buildings west and southwest,
with redoubled fury, enwrapping the block containing the Palmer
House and Academy of Design, and that directly north, in an in
conceivably short time.
The Palmer House was the tallest building in the city, being
eight stories, three of which were comprised in its Mansard roof;
and the scene of its demolition, which was more rapid than the
account can be transmitted to paper, was inexpressibly grand.
The march of the devouring element from this point to the Lake
was uninterrupted, the intervening buildings, including many of
the finest private residences in the city, melting away like -the dry
stubble of the prairie.
For some time after the ignition of the Bigelow House, the De
Haven block stood unscathed, but, at last it, too, was forced to
yield to the inevitable. It was a long three-story building, the
opposite side of Dearborn street being occupied by a row of
small wooden tenements. A stream was brought to bear upon
these, and in the blistering heat three firemen, heroes every one,
11

ISO HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRKS
fully conscious of the tremendous interests committed to them,
stood manfully at their post:-. They did their work nobly and
successfully. The De Haven block was levelled to the ground,
and the whole row of wooden buildings had been perfectly pro
tected. From a thousand parched throats the thankful ejacula
tion went up : " We are saved ! " Delusive hope ! One danger
was averted only to be succeeded by others beyond the power of
man to avert. The wind again suddenly turned to the south
west, carrying with it a baptism of fire which made it apparent
that the whole remaining portion of the city north of Harrison
street was doomed. Churches, palatial residences, everything was'
swept by the besom of destruction, an irresistible avalanche of
flame. In concert with the work of devastation just described, from the
track of flame several blocks below, which had long before cut its
way to the Lake, as if executing a well-devised military manoeuvre,
t'.te lire had been steadily eating its way against the wind, the
point of junction being at or near Adams street. From this it was
evident that, even with the wind blowing a gale from the south,
unless checked, the entire South Division was in danger. The sup
ply of water had long before failed except from the basin, and
more heroic treatment alone could save what remained of the
city. It was at once and unhesitatingly determined upon, and
then commenced the first systematic and thorough use of gun
powder as the only means of preventing the continuance of the
work of ruin. It was conducted under the personal supervision
of General Sheridan. Building after building was demolished,
the reports of the successive explosions coming at intervals of a
very i'ew moments, and being plainly audible above the continu
ous din, each discharge announcing that at last the battle was
being fought and won. The great fire which was to render
Chicago forever memorable in the annals of history was ended
in the South Division.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 181
THE LAST BUILDING TO BURN
was " Terrace row," a palatial block of private residences on
Michigan avenue, extending northward from Harrison street. Its
destruction required two or three hours, as nothing remained in
its rear to accelerate the work. About eighteen hours from the
firet discovery of the fire on De Koven sti-eet, the last wall of
" Terrace row " fell. In the South Division, north of a diagonal
line, reaching from the east end of Harrison Btreet to Polk street
bridge, there remained two buildings unharmed — one the large.
business block immediately north of Eandolph street bridge, and
the other an unfinished stone structure at !the corner of Monroe
and La Salle streets. The entire business portion of the city was
obliterated. Two-thirds of the territorial area of the city was
unscathed, but Chicago as a great business mart, the proud com
mercial centre of the growing West, was no more. Was ever de
vastation more complete?
Immense as is the burnt district in the South Division, for a
single fortunate circumstance it might, and probably would, have
been doubled. Immediately south of the Michigan Southern
passenger depot was a long fire-proof warehouse; on the side
fronting the fire there were but two windows, which afforded the
only possible opportunity for the fire-fiend to effect a lodgment.
These were successfully guarded by a small corps of men with
pails. The building was saved, and with it undoubtedly the
entire tract north of Twelfth street.
To complete the picture of ruin so vigorously painted already,
we drop the Times' report here for a moment, and let another add
a few touches with his gorgeous brush. The JV. Y. Tribune's cor
respondent says : How can I give you an adequate conception of
the vast and awful ruin which now occupies the entire site of the
Chicago of a few years since ? Standing at the Michigan Avenue
Hotel, at the northeast corner of that avenue and Congress street,

182 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
you look north along the Lake shore over nothing but ruins as far
as the city extended in that direction, a distance of some six miles.
A solitarv o-rain elevator out on the pier at the mouth of the river
is the onlv monument which remains on the Lake front. The eye
utterly fails to take in the sweep of this field of ruin, even when
you recall familiar knowledge of every foot of the ground. How
can you make real hundreds upon two or three thousand acres of
ashes, lime, and broken brick, where stood a day since a great
city ! Come back, then, to my spot of observation, the uninjured
hotel just named. Directly before you was the large and ele
gant garden of J. T. Scammon, arid north of it a terrace of fine
residences, among which were those of ex-Gov. Bross and Mr.
Griggs, the well-known bookseller. All these went down before
noon of yesterday, the fire spitefully beating back against a furi
ous south wind, with a fierceness which made all South Chicago as
fearful as if the hour of final doom had indeed struck. In several
quarters during the morning there were amazing instances of this
beating back of the fire, in consequence of the gustiness of the
wind, and the ease with which the fire caught in all directions, in
consequence of the excessive dryness of everything. The large
empty corner occupied by Mr. Scammon's garden proved an op
portunity to stop this on the Lake front ; so Congress street became
the southerly limit of the fire at the Lake front. This means a
Lake front of ten blocks south of the river destroyed. Back from
this front the solid business quarter of the city was built, eight
blocks deep, every foot of which is down, with one or two slight
exceptions on the extreme west of the district at the river bank.
This is not all, either, that is down on the South Side. Going west
from Michigan avenue, the southerly fire limit drops one block
south to Harrison street, on Wabash avenue, and runs west on
Harrison several blocks, and then on a diagonal southwest to the
river and across, whore, on the west side, iu a tinder-field of dry
lumber and exceedingly combustible buildings, an irresponsible

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. lijA
<;ow kicked over the kerosene lamp which lighted all this disas
ter. That unconcerned cow could uotbavechosen a point more admi
rably to the windward of tho most solid and superb part of the city.
It was at the close of a day of violent and really hot southwest
wind, and that, too, after a month of most unusual dryness, when
everything of wood, and especially everything of hali-rotted wood,
which abounds everywhere, was so perfectly dried that not petro
leum itself could have made more entirely Teady the destined vic
tim of the fire-fiend. The danger,' too, had come by stealth. The
end of summer was really cold, though there was but little rain ;
but the latter half of September and the fatal firet week of Octo
ber brought constant, warm winds, under the pleasant softness of
which field and forest and city became literally as dry as tinder.
Chicago deceives any but a cautious eye. The ruin which defied
,the sea of fire most successfully is that of the First National Bank.
On the site of this bank, less than four years ago, stood an old
wooden house, so decayed as to be well-nigh ready to crumble
into ruins. There is still a world of old pine in this condition in
Chicago, where the original cheap structures are waiting until the
lots are wanted at fancy prices, to cover with Athens marble, brick
and iron. These vistas of decayed pine, dried to the condition of
tinder, were the trains which fate had laid for firing our city.
And every roof of the whole city, that even of the Water Works,
which caught and burned before the great brewery near by was
touched, had been put in perfect order for the swiftest and surest
sweep of universal conflagration by the day and night steadiness
of the southwest wind, and fairly heated for the match and
the spark by the hot breath of Sunday's steady gale. And
when the night of Sunday had closed in, without a vestige ol
moisture in the air, and fire broke out a little distance to wind
ward of the costliest, and closest square mile of Chicago, the end

184 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRE3
was as sure as if a fiend had prepared every inch of the devourer'a
path. Half a dozen engines together, near the Court-House, had to be
abandoned because of the rapidity with which the flames flew from
point to point, minding no more about open spaces, streets, or
squares than if they were carried over the distances between by
so many trains of powder. One of the finest structures on State
street, a great dry-goods house, seized in the rear, was seen to go
down in barely fifteen minutes. The large hotels were bright
spots in the burning, wliich raged from midnight to morning, and
from morning to noon. The great book-stores, three standing
side by side on State street, the finest single haunt of average
book-buying in the country, and the store of S. C. Griggs & Co.,
exceptionally rich in all America in rare stock, were lapped by
tongues of heat as many as the innumerable pages which shri
velled under the quick destruction, and all was gone. North and
east of this point one solid mass of wholesale stocks, reaching to
the depot and warehouses at the mouth of the river, crumbled
into the maw of the easily-conquering doom. Taking in what lies
outside of the district, ten blocks north and south by eight blocks
east and west, a mile square of the very best of the city lies in
ruins south of the short main trunk of the river, and between the
Lake and the South Branch. This does not include the compara
tively small district west of the South Branch, where the fire origi
nated, and just north of which several blocks had been burned
over on Saturday night.
The day of the fire was one of the worst which a dry and dusty
city could experience. Beyond the limits of the fire was a fright
ful storm of dust and sand, blinding to the straining eyes of the
hurrying throngs which filled the streets. It was a trifle of course
compared with the other miseries, but it gave a dreadful added.
sense of the malignant character of the day. And now every
wind that blows stirs a waste of ashes and lime, across which

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 185
curious and sorrowing throngs tramp all day long, in and out
among the remnants of brave buildings, over the charred pave
ments^ — never satisfied with gazing on a sight winch perhaps may
never be repeated. All accounts increase more and more the
evidence of the most terrible intensity in the progress of the fire.
The case of the Court-House, with the whole front of the block
open on the south and the same on the north, suddenly bursting
into a light flame, as if from oil easily ignited by intense heat, is
as much in point as any. The fact was that the burning heat,
which chipped the heaviest stone to such a singular extent, caused
simultaneous combustion of large areas of exposed surface before
anv flames were actually communicated, or Jipon the first touch
of flame at any one point. Among the tindery wooden build-
ings, which abounded especially on the north side, a rush of hot
air — air that was almost red hot — would melt roof or walls as if
they had been the lightest flummery. And these jets of heat
went spitting about in the most capricious fashion, sometimes
inexplicably avoiding an exposed corner, then returning to glean
what remained. It was this in part which made so useless all
efforts to head off or to stop the conflagration, though undoubt
edly a more dreadful perplexity was to meet the shower of fire
brands which were sweeping along on the heated gales. It
was remarked on Sunday that pieces of burning pine fell on
Saturday night two miles, or nearly that, from the fire of that
night, and set fire to where they fell; and it was then said
that it would seem as if a fire once under way in the city must
sweep everything before it. The next twenty-four hours proved
the justice of this apprehension.
The powers of the air defied interference, as soon as a sea of in
tense heat was created.. On the south line of the burnt district
the evidence is conclusive that the fire took all that was in its
path, and took no more only from circumstances very little in
fluenced by human intervention. The original fire burned east

186 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FHiES
along the north line of the street which was its limit to the build
ings of the Michigan Southern Railway, where the immensely
long freight-houses, with the breadth of tracks west of them,
proved a barrier which saved a large section of the city. Behind,
or east of these freight-houses, is a row of peculiarly inflammable
low houses. Happily the railroad buildings which were burned
furnished less flying tire than that elsewhere, or the wind may
have favored at the critical moment. At any rate, no fire took
east of these freight-houses, while round the north end of the
north one the line of conflagration went directly east along
Harrison street to within one block of the Lake. On this block
you still see where the work of demolition was commenced, but
was suspended because the fire did not take hold of either the
west or south sides of it. Along the line of Harrison street, men
tioned just now, are two or three structures saved just as they
stood, because the fire chanced to go round them. The eastern
most of these is a church, north of which there was considerable
vacant space, and west of which the houses were of brick, kindled
from the rear and top, and burned out without very great inten
sity of conflagration. It becomes plain, therefore, that so much
backing up of the fire as took place on Michigan avenue was only
in conjunction with conflagration west of those blocks, which
brought them under currents of fierce heat, and finally helped to
destroy them.
Here we resume the thread of our former spectator's description
of the fire in the North Division.
The four bridges on the main trunk of Chicago river fell an
easy prey, but they were not needed to conduct the conflagration
across, and speed it on its destroying way. The greatest number of
easily combustible structures invited its progress in all directions
and so easily were new fires lighted far in advance of the general
march of the destruction, that no regular line of lire front was
preserved, nor did separate tongues of fiery advance, four or five

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 187
of which existed most of the time, steadily hold their relative
position. Now the burning terror would dart ahead a block or
two in one place, and now in another, frequently giving less than
time enough to the escaping population to put on necessary
clothing. Great numbers, of course, were advised of the danger,
and hurried their goods into the streets, to open squares, to the
Lake shore, to any supposed place of safety — there to be burned,
nevertheless, in the far greater number of cases. In all Chicago
there were no finer private houses than great numbers of those
here destroyed. The North Side was the earlier aristrocratic
quarter, and numerous elegant residences, with a rare charm
of spacious grounds and fine shrubbery, maintained for this part
of the city a New-England "Bort "of < charm not elsewhere to
be found. All this was swept as if it had been a litter heap
of tow and shavings.
The commencement of the fire on the North Side seems to
have been at the Galena elevator, which is located on the north
side of the main branch between State street and Rush street, the
time when it first crossed over being about twenty minutes to six
o'clock in the morning. Having once got a start to the north
of the river, the fire rapidly progressed north, east, and west, the
back fire west being unusually rapid. The corner of Rush and
Illinois streets, three blocks beyond the elevator, where Judge
Grant Goodrich resided, was soon reached.
The fire, then, as above intimated, progressed rapidly west, as
well as north and east, first burning down the old Lake House,
one of the oldest, if not the oldest brick hotel in Chicago. In its
course west it also burned down, in addition to the other build
ings, old St. James' Church, the oldest brick church in Chicago,
wliich was occupied as a store-house. About this time, other
portions of the North Side adjoining the river caught fire, and
soon all North Water street, which was occupied by wholesale
stores and large meat establishments, was in flames, the Galena

IfcjS HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
depot, the Hough House on Wells street, and the Wheelet
elevator west of Wells street, being also burned down. The
bridges also were rapidly burned up, the flames from them help
ing to communicate the fire rapidly all along the north shore of
the main branch. Not a bridge connecting the North Side with
the South Side was left ; Wells street bridge, Clark street bridge,
State street bridge, Rush street bridge, all being burned.
The La Salle street tunnel also became impassable, the fire
from the South Side rushing through it along the pedestrian
walk, which was soon consumed, and filling the tnnnel with
smoke. At the mouth of the tunnel at the south end was found
a dead dog, which had evidently met its death between a sheet of
flame and a cloud of smoke issuing from the tunnel. The solid
stone walls of the tunnel itself were cracked and chipped with
the intense heat of the Are, the iron railings which protect the
carriage approaches at each end being literally torn off from the
walls and curved and bent into innumerable fantastic shapes by
the fiery demon. Between Kinzie street and the river all was
laid low and buried in a mass of undistinguishable ruins — whole
sale houses, Uhlich's Hall, the Ewing block, the Galena depot, the
offices of the Northwestern Company, at the corner of Wells and
Kinzie streets, the Galena elevator, all were burned down in a
miraculously short space of time. Between Kinzie and Hlinois
streets, from the North Branch to the Lake, nearly all was
burned ; among the prominent buildings consumed being the
Revere House, on the northeast corner of Kinzie and Clark, the
North Market Hall, one of the oldest buildings in Chicago, the
Lake House, one of the oldest brick structures in the city, the
mammoth reaper factory of J&cCormack & Co., a large sugar
refinery, and an extensive coal yard ; the last three establish
ments being located east of Rush street. The splendid new
block, owned by McGee, on the corner of Michigan and Clark,
was also burned down. A few fortunate buildings were left

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 189
standing, but they only seemed to emphasize the ruins around
them. These exceptions were about a block of buildings extend
ing west from Market street to the North Branch, on the north
side of Kinzie street, and a large brick building, occupied as a
stove warehouse by Rathbone & Co., located to the south of
Ogden slip, on the land which has been made between it and the
Blip, and which extends out into the Lake several hundred feet.
A little to the east of the Rathbone building were several large
piles of coal, which were burned up.'-irff'. ^ -y,:.
" Between Illinois street and Chicago avenue the fire progressed
with irrepressible fury and rapidity/soon enveloping the whole
section, including in it both the most beautiful and the most for
bidding portions of the North Division:" On the west of Clark
street and south of Chicago avenue was a section of the city
densely populated ; filled with buildinns occupied, many of them
by two and three families ; a region which in years gone by was
noted for the disorderly character of its elections. Its only prom
inent features were a few churches, including the German Lu
theran church, on the corner of La Salle and Ohio streets, and a
Norwegian Lutheran church, built in 1855, on the corner of Su
perior and Franklin streets ; the Kinzie school, a four-story brick
building on Ohio street, between La Salle and Wells ; the fine
large structure known as the German House, dedicated last year,
and containing one of the finest and best proportioned halls in
the city. This portion of the city had, in fact, just begun to ren
ovate itself; its streets were being raised and graded, and new
buildings erected. East of Clark street to the Lake, between Illi
nois street and Chicago avenue, was the pride of the North Division.
Its streets were bordered with rows of magnificent trees, beautiful
gardens, elegant mansions, noble churches, all of which fell before
the destroyer. Among the churches were the North Presbyterian
church, an immense brick structure, on the corner of Indiana and
Cass streets ; a couple of frame churches on Dearborn street ; the

100 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
new St. James church, a beautiful Gothic stone structure, on the
corner of Huron and Cass streets ; and the vast structure of the
Cathedral of the Holy Name, on the corner of State and Superior
-treets. Among the other prominent public buildings were the
Catholic College of St. Mary of the Lake, occupying the whole
block north of the Cathedral of the Holy Name; the Orphan's
Home, conducted by Sisters of Mercy ; the Historical Society's
building on Ontario street, east of Clark, in which were kept,
among many other valuable historical records, the original procla
mation of emancipation by President Lincoln ; and the North-side
police station on Huron street, between Clark and Dearborn
streets, a substantial and well-arranged building. Among the
prominent residences were those of Mrs. Walter L. Newberry,
whose grounds occupied the whole block bounded by Ontario,
Rush, Pine, and Erie streets ; that of Isaac N. Arnold, occupying
the block north ; that of McGee, occupying the block southwest
of the Ogden block, etc. In short, this section of the North Divi
sion was full of beautiful residences and gardens.
Before tracing the progress of the fire further northward we may
mention the burning of the water-works, and the curious, or rather
incomprehensible manner in which it caught fire almost two
Injurs before the time that the fire first reached the North Divi-
.•ion across the main branch. As stated above, the Galena eleva
tor at the edge of the main branch caught fire from the South
Side at about _20 minutes to 6 o'clock. At about 20 minutes be
fore 4 o'clock, a fire was discovered in the carpenter shop of Mr.
Lill, built on piles, above the shallow water of the Lake. The
employes at. the brewery immediately endeavored to extinguish
the fitimes : but it. was found impossible, and all the efforts of the
men were confined to prevent their extension. Standing between
the burning carpenter-shop and the water-works, extending north
west of the shop, stood one of Mr. Lill's book-keepers. Turning
round toward the water-works, he exclaimed: "My God, the

DM CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 10 L
water-works are in flames ! " This gentleman states positively that
the flames from the water-works, when he first saw them, were is
suing from the western portion of the pumping works, no flames
being seen from the eastern portion of the grounds, which were
occupied with coal sheds, etc. On the other hand, the employes
at the water-works say that the fire commenced about half-past
3 o'clock in the morning ; that it commenced in the eastern part
of the water-works, and that it took fire from the shed. Another
gentleman testifies that the carpenter-shop, or the cooper-shop, as
he called it, was burned down before the fire commenced in the
water-works, and that when the water-works were in full flame,
the main body of Lill's brewery, with ;the exception of the car
penter shop, was intact. The time of the commencement of tho
fire in Lill's carpenter-shop and the water-works, however, differs
one hour; the last-named witness asserting that the water-wprks
commenced burning at about half-past 2 or 3 o'clock. The gentle
man referred to states that he had been to the Commissioners of
Public Works several times to induce them to take precautions.
But whatever may have been the origin of the fire at the water
works, it is certain that when it did commence the whole building
was soon in flames, and in a few minutes the engineers had to rush
out of the building to save their lives. The machinery was very
considerably injured. The water-tower, however, to the west of
the pumping works, was almost entirely uninjured.
Before relating the further progress of the flames northward,
we must also notice the mingled scenes of sorrow and laughter,
or tragedv and comedy, which were presented on what were once
known as the sands — that part of the Lake shore which lies east
of that portion of the North Side which has been described above.
This sandy waste varies in width between one and two blocks,
being the widest at the southern end near the river, where a frame
building, stood here and there before the fire. As soon as the fire
broke out along the north side of the main river, and the rapidity

102

HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES

of its progress showed that it would sweep the North Side or a
considerable portion of it, all the inhabitants of the district de
scribed, lying east of State street — both rich and poor, both the
tenants of the shanties and cottages which occupied North Water
street, Michigan street, Illinois street, and the south end of St.
Clair street, and the tenants of the aristocratic mansions north of
this locality — fled to the Lake shore, carrying with them whatever
they were able to carry in their hands, but little and but short
opportunity being offered to do more. The scene was one of in
describable confusion, of horror and dismay, intermingled to the
mere spectator with laughable incidents, which were, however,
quickly drowned in the overwhelming horror which surrounded
them all. Where the Lake shore or sands were narrow, and the
burning buildings approached close to the Lake shore, despair
reigned. The water was the apparent boundary of the place of
refuge. The intense heat from the burning buildings, even the
flames from them, reached the water and even stretched out over
it, and the flying men, women, and children rushed into the Lake
till nothing but their heads appeared above the surface of the
water; but the fiery fiend was not satisfied. The hair was
burned off the heads of many, while not a few never came out
of the water alive. Many who stayed on the shore, where the
space between the fire and water was a little wider, had the
clothes burned from off their backs. The remnants of the sad
scene presented a curious appearance on Monday. Scattered
over the sands were broken chairs, shattered mirrors, drenched
clothes without their owners, dresses, pants, coats, a motley array
of clothing disowned. Boys wandered around picking out of the
pockets of the deserted garments knives, change, etc.
Those again who lived west of Clark street in the district
named, as soon as they saw that they must succumb to the ad
vancing flames, after flying and moving north their goods from
block to block, rushed across the bridges which, with one excep-

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 193
tion — that of the Chicago avenue bridge — remained standing.
There was a grand emigration to the West Side of people and
goods; of little children and big; of crying women and excited
men ; of broken furniture and cracked crockery ; of wheelbarrows,
buggies, one-horse teams, two-horse teams, heavy wagons, and
light wagons — everything that could be saved.
But there was one bridge which proved unfaithful to its trust.
Chicago avenue bridge appears to have caught fire from sparks
before the main fire reached it.; Thinking to be able to cross over
this bridge, many people delayed -their flight, hoping to save at
least a part of their furniture before <£he flames reached their
hoqses. But the delay was too long and the advance of the
flames too rapid, and when they finally fled to the bridge it was
too late. It was in flames. Under the approaches to the bridge
the exhausted people tried to hide themselves from the flames, the
stronger and less exhausted flying to the next bridge north — that
at Division street. But the refuge under the bridge soon became
a burning furnace. Those gathered under it soon saw the mistake
they had made. The despairing ones stolidly stayed where they
were, and were suffocated or burned to death. Those with hope
still left ran out and attempted to fly north through the flames
which were crossing the avenue. A few escaped, but with many
it was only a death postponed for the space of a few minutes —
burning garments, tottering footsteps, and then a fall to rise no
more. BORN ON THE STREET _
As the fierce flames ran along the avenue, a woman ran out j
into the street, fell down, and gave birth to a child, but the birth I
soon became a death, and the mother and babe were soon lifeless
bodies. In the mad hurry after each one's self, the mother and
the child were deserted and left to their fate. ___
From the observation of many it would seem that the terror

194

HISTORY' OF THE GREAT FIRES

and force of the conflagration on the North Side were aggravated
by a fresh fire breaking out just north of Chicago avenue bridge
tit a time when the fire from the south had not advanced to
within three or four blocks of Chicago avenue. It was this fire
to the north that undoubtedly induced the weak and exhausted to
take refuge under the approaches to the bridge, being unable to
run around the fire to the north of the avenue,- which was rapidly
progressing both north and east. How many threw themselves
into the river, with the vain hope of being able to cross the river
or of being picked up, it is impossible to tell, but it is to be feared
that in their mad and hopeless desperation many people in their
flight from a death by fire, found a death by water.
SIXTEEN BURNED TO DEATH OR KILLED.
In a large blacksmith-shop, just south of the bridge, a number
of workmen — stated to be sixteen — rushed into their burning build
ing to save their tools, but the fire proved too much even for the
sons of Vulcan. While catching up their tools, the walls of the
building fell in and buried them in its burningruins.
Perhaps the finest street running east and west in the North
Division was Chicago avenue. Along its entire length, east of the
river, it was filled with fine and costly buildings. During the
present season alone several splendid buildings had been erected
or were in process of erection. Among these were the building
wliich wtis known, or to be known, as the Norwegian Hall, which
contained, besides fifteen or sixteen stores, a large hall. The
building had a marble front, and was nearly completed. To the
east of this about two blocks, on the northwest corner of Clark
street and Chicago avenue, was another fine marble front building
almost completed. To the east of Clark street the avenue was
filled with fine frame and brick residences. Among the residences
on this street was that of the late Michael Diversey, tho former
partner of William Lill, and one of the earliest residents of

SEE OF COMMEECE. ?

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 197
Chicago, his house being perhaps the oldest residence of its size in
the city. All these were burned from one end of the avenue to
the other. Nothing was left but the water- works, themselves
battered and torn by the devouring flames.
The surroundings of the water- works even were not without their
tragedies. One of the firemen thinking, perhaps, that the heat
of the approaching fire would not prove to be so intense and
destructive as it actually was, crawled into a large water-pipe lying
on the ground and was roasted to death. ; When frilly awake to
Wb mistake, probably all he saw at either end of his last refuge
was a flame of fire. -n dr;...i!i .... ; >
North along Clark street, and on the .branch tracks along Chi
cago avenue, Division street, Larrabee street, Sedgwick street, and
Clybourne avenue, the horse-tracks were more or less injured ;
the tracks in some places being doubled up to a height of three
feet. The tracks of the North-westcm road along North Water
street, and extending between the government pier and the Ogden
slip, were still more damaged, many of the ends of the rails being
thrown eight or ten feet from their original position. In many
sections of the track the rails have assumed a zigzag course.
At this time, between five and half-past five, the line of the
fire as it progressed north was about a mile in width. Along the
entire line the fire appeared as if attempting to see which portion
could surpass the other in its march of destruction. To the
east, near the Lake shore, were the large ale and lager-beer
breweries of Sands, Hucks, Brandt, Bowman, Schmidt, Busch,
Doyle, etc. ; to the west, near the North Branch, was a densely
inhabited district filled with wooden houses as dry as tinder.
From the three, four, and five stories' height of the one, the
sparks and burning charcoal from the wooden cupolas of the
breweries were blown blocks northward, setting fire to the build
ings on which they fell. On the west, the closely built wooden
frame building, having no brick walls to temporarily stay
~.<2

198 HTRTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
their progress, seemed to surrender instantaneously to the rag
ing fire-fiend that did not crawl, but seemed to rush upon them
with unrest.rainable fury. A TERRIBLE SCENE.
All seemed to be immersed in a hell of flame. No attempts
were made to stem the progress of the fire. All that the tenants
of the houses could do was to save a few of their household goods,
and this, too, at the risk of their lives. The scene was rendered
still more terrible and despairing by the fact that during the
earlier stages of the fire thousands of the able-bodied men had
rushed to the South Side to witness the fire there, not then dream
ing that it would reach their •own homes. Before the fire on the
South Side, these fathers, brothers, and sons were gradually driven
across the river, until the rapidity of the progress of the flames
convinced £hem that their own families were in danger. Being
at last convinced, they rushed in frantic haste to save what little
they could. But they arrived at their homes, most of them, in
an exhausted condition.. They did their best, but the best was
but little. All that many could do was to aid in saving the
lives of their wives and children. With their all standing in
their houses, many attempted impossible things, and rushed into
burning buildings never to come out alive ; for the wind rushed
on in horrible fury, and seemed to envelop three or four houses
at once in one fell swoop.
BETWEEN CHICAGO AVENUE AND NORTH AVENUE.
Until this densely populated district to the west of La Salle
6trect, and between Chicago avenue and North avenue, had been
wasted, there was no stay to the rapid progress of the fire. All
that many people could do was to save themselves, and perhaps a^
few valuables that they could carry in their hands. A few, in
deed, of those who saw beforehand that their homes would be

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 199
burned down, even when the flames were half a mile off, saved,
perhaps, half of their furniture; but many* of these even were
able to save but little. No conveyance could be found, in many
cases, and piles of furniture were only saved from the house to be
burned in the street. East of Dearborn street the scene was a
parallel one ; the homeless occupants of the houses in many cases
rushed to the narrow beach which bounds this portion of the
North Division on the east, and the same sufferings that occurred
on the portion of the beach referred to south of this were repeated
and aggravated by the narrowness "of the beach. How many
were killed, how many dangerously 'burned, it will be impossible
to find out. Relatives and friends have not 'waited for the coroner,
but have buried their own dead on their own responsibility, and
no one person will ever know the names, or even the number, of
the victims of the fire in the North Division. In the district men
tioned, with the exception of La Salle street, Clark street, and
Dearborn street, the population was densely packed. In many
of the houses lived two or three families. To the east of it
were large breweries, where, till the last moment, the employ6s
worked to save the buildings, at last rushing to their own already
burning buildings to save their families. Children, as is usual in
poor districts, seeme'd to swarm around every building, and how
many of these, left to their own care, infants, toddling children,
little boys and girls, sank before the fire, it is impossible to esti
mate. Suffice it to say that hundreds have been missed who
were seen at the fire, but never since.
The beautiful New England church went early in the day.
Robert Collyer's stood defiant with its sturdy breadth and bigness,
while behind and beyond it the conflagration did its will with
everything else. There was some attempt to bring water in
buckets from an open place, but it was not long before the ven
geance wliich smote so mercilessly all around struck this noblo
monument also, and soon left the front and towers bereaved of all

200 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
that made this one of the bravest and brightest spots in the whole
city. In front of these two churches was Dearborn Park. North
of this park a single residence was spared, almost capriciously and
insolently. But from the wide scene of ruin, extending all the
way across North Chicago, from the east bank of the North Branch
to the Lake, the fury raged on to Lincoln Park, and far on
between the park and the North Branch until North Chicago was
almost completely blotted out.
On Dearborn street, diagonally opposite to the southwestern
corner of Washington Park, was burned the New England Con
gregational church, one of the finest buildings of its kind in Chi
cago, and the most elaborately constructed of any ecclesiastical
edifice in the city. The walls of the building stand. On the cor
ner of Whiting and Dearborn streets, nearly opposite Washington
Park, a block north of the last-named building, stood the beauti
ful edifice of Unity Unitarian church, of which Rev. Robert Coll-
yer was pastor. The walls of this building also bravely withstood
the advance of the flames; but it is to be feared that they will
have to be rebuilt in order to secure a perfectly safe new struc
ture. The whole length of Dearborn and La Salle streets, which
from Chicago avenue to North avenue were two of the finest
streets in the North Division, being lined with beautiful trees and
splendid marble-front residences, were totally destroyed, not a
house being left with the exception of that of Mahlon D. Ogden.
LINCOLN PARE AND OLD CITY CEMETERY.
These deserve special mention. Lincoln Park — the glory of the
North Division — has been almost entirely preserved. But few
trees have been injured except in the southeastern portion of the
park, where the dead-house stood, and whore a few trees are
burned; the small-pox hospital to the east, on the Lake shore,v
being also destroyed. The grave-stone, or rather board memorials
of the dead poor are many of them destroyed, and their relatives

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 201
will know no more the place of rest of their kindred. The fences
around the graves, the boards which have told to the wanderer
their names, are all destroyed in the southern portion of the old
cemetery. In the park itself many took refuge, though the great.
majority, as hereafter stated, fled to the prairies on the north
west. North of North avenue no efforts whatever were made to stop
the progress of the flames, with one exception, which will be here
after mentioned. They followed out their conrse, the only means
that prevented their progress both north and west being stretches
of bare prairie, on which there was nothing to burn. Excepting on
Clark and Wells streets, the houses were more or less separated
from each other, occupying or being separated from each other by
two or three lots, and often more. A small portion of the district
north of North avenue and west of Wells street was thickly
settled. At the corner of Linden and Hurlbut street stood the
vast edifice of St. Michael's church. Its walls were left standing,
I ut that was all. Its splendor is gone. A little church on the
corner of Centre avenue and Church street, a branch of the New
England church, was also burned, as also a German Methodist
church on the corner of Sedgwick and Wisconsin streets ; a little
church on the corner of Clark and Menomonee, also the sub-polico
station on the corner of North avenue and Larrabee street.
At Fullerton avenue, a little over two and a half miles north
of the river, the progress of the fire was finally stopped. A lull
of the wind, between 2 and 4 o'clock on Tuesday morning,
aided in the work of preventing the further progress of the
flames northward ; the only houses burned north of Fullerton
avenue being Mr. John Huck's residence, and a building occupied
by a Mr. Falk. Between the hours named, Mr. Huck's men
turned out and beat out the sparks that came from the south as
they fell on the ground. A slight rain falling at the same time,
aided in the work.

202 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
During all this time, however, that the fire had been raging in
the North Division, sometimes advancing directly northeast, some
times progressing westward with a terrible back fire, people had
been flying north and northwest until the few houses within
reach in Lake View and beyond the limits were crowded full of
refugees, and the flying population were compelled to take refuge
on the open prairie. Here were gathered thousands of people —
tired men, delicate women, children in arms without cover —
without shelter of any kind ; many indeed without clothes on
their backs. Worse than all, here too were compelled to rest.
from their long-continued flight, the sick and the wounded. ;
The North-side horse-railroad stables were entirely consumed,.
and it is stated that over forty head of stock were burned up.
The boundaries of the fire in the North Division were as fol
lows : With the exception of the few buildings mentioned above,
the fire extended over all the North Division from the main
branch to Division street, and from the North Branch to the
Lake ; very nearly seven hundred acres of territory. The fire left
the North Branch at Division street, where it left a few houses
standing along the side of the river. The back fire then extended
to the river again, or to what is known as the North Branch canal, .
which connects the ends of a semicircle in the river, which
bends over to the west. Following the canal or new channel of
the river for a short distance, the fire then tended a little to the
east as far as Halsted street, up which it extended to Clybourue
avenue, the back fire extending along the avenue northwest to
Blackhawk street and a Httle west until it reached Orchard
street — a north and south street, excepting at its junction with
the avenue, where it runs for about a block in a northeast direc
tion. After reaching Orchard street, the fire proceeded north to
Will ard street, where it proceeded east along Howe street to
Hurlbut street, across a couple of undivided blocks. Along Hurl-
but .-trcet the fire proceeded north to Centre avenue, on which

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 203
only three houses were burned down ; the blocks around being
nearly vacant. It then advanced up Hurlbut street to within
about one hundred feet south of Fullerton avenue. In the mean
while the fire had taken all east of this, with the exception of
Lincoln Park. North of Fullerton avenue, the fire burned up
only two houses ; these being located eabt of Clark street. Here
the progress of the fire was stayed in the manner stated above.
C. Raggio's and two other houses on North Clark street, opposite
the park, escaped destruction. ,
Here we part company with our guides, who have led us along
the paths pursued by the hydra-headed monster, and turn aeairi
to hear the account of the
GRAVE OF THE JTBE,
from him who described to us its cradle.
Having seen the beginning of the fire, we thought it worth
while to track it through its rise and its grandeur to its magni
ficent end after a glorious day's life. There is a very singular
caprice of the fire in the North Division, equally remarkable
with that in De Koven street. The house of Mr. Mahlon Ogden,
a large frame building standing veiy near the street, is entirely
untouched, while the entire region around it is laid bare. Even
the church across the street, which stands entirely detached, is
destroyed. The escape of the Ogden mansion is as complete and
as mysterious as if it had worn an invisible coat of asbestos.
The fire was no less singular in what it attacked than in what it
spared. Just beyond this house, which would seem with its dry
seasoned pine a most appetizing morsel for the fire-devil, there
hes a green and tranquil grave-yard, with nothing in it which
could attract a well-regulated fire. But this fiery tempest has
swept in among these graves and tombstones, has sought out
with an apparent disregard of conducting material, the humble
woodcu head-boards, and has even gnawed the marble in many

204 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
places. The last expiring efforts of the flames were in the quiet
German cemetery at the gate of Lincoln Park, by the shining
beach of the Lake. It is here that hundreds of the hunted
fugitives of the North Division, hotly chased by the flre, came tc
pass that first miserable night of hunger and cold. Loads oi
household goods were brought here, and dashed carelessly upon
the ground. As the hard night wore on, and the cold wind came
blowing in from the "unsalted sea," chilling the blood after the
fever of the day, these unhappy people began to break up and burn
the furniture they had saved, and brought so far with labor and
pain. Everywhere you may see the traces of that wretched vigil
of heart-breaking desperation. At one point there is a pile ot
half-burned picture-frames profusely gilded and elaborately
carved, and at another there lie the scattered fragments of a
richly inlaid cabinet. A library-chair has its back burned away
and its upholstery wrinkled and singed with the watch-fire.
But there are other and more revolting evidences of the misery
which on that night gave many over into infernal guidance. I
passed one modest grave, near the scene of a night-camp. A
heart was carved upon the wooden tombstone by pious hands,
and into this touching emblem a steel fork had been driven by
some brutal fist. Above the outraged blazon were the tender
words, Ruhu Sauft (" Sleep Softly ").
The scenes witnessed in that quiet grave-yard during thatnighi
of horror were enough to appal the stoutest temperaments. A
throng of half-maddened sufferers straggled through the grove
looking for their friends and finding no one, oppressed by a
weight of anxiety that caused them to neglect their physical dis
comforts. Delicate women came as they had escaped from death
in thin fluttering night-clothes, blown about by the surly Autumn
wind. Several were in a state which demanded the gentlest care
and sympathy. Many little children wore thrown into the crowd
too young to speak their parents' names. And upon all, the

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 205
crushing blow of an enormous and irremediable disaster had
fallen, and rendered them for the moment incapable of any-
rational judgment. I heard of one company of German singers
from a low concert saloon who flew out into the night with nothing
but their tawdry evening dresses, who sat shivering and silent in
a huddled group in the lee of a tombstone, their bare arms and
shoulders blue and pinched, and the tinsel flowers in their hair
shining with frost. They talked little, but sometimes they cheat
ed their misery with songs, and it had a strange effect to hear in
that gloomy and sorrow-stricken place the soft impurities of the
Vienna muse, and the ringing and joyous jodel of the Tyrol.
Near by, the fragments of a Methodist congregation had impro-
vised a prayer-meeting, and the sound of psalms and supplication
went up mingled with that worldly music to the deep and toler
ant heavens.
The fire could get no hold on the green wood of Lincoln Park,
and so gave it up and went furiously off to the left, and ate
up all the pretty suburban houses on that side, and ended only
when the wide prairie lay before it, with nothing more to burn.
At the corner of Willow and Orchard streets the noble outline of
the Newberry school bounds the line of devastation, as if to say-
that the future hope of Chicago, the power that shall yet rise
superior to calamity, is Intelligence.

CHAPTER XXTTT.

Thus ended what must be considered one of the most stupen
dous events of history, and the gorgeous descriptions above
carry the reader, in imagination, onward from street to street, till
darkness gathers upon the desolate scene, and the more desolate
myriads who had been chased from their dwellings, and left roof-

206 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
less and almost penniless, many of them worse than beggars, oe-
cause saddled with debts for property now hopelessly lost, and all
securities utterly ruined. That night was tho saddest ever expe
rienced in our city — terribly gloomy for those who had not been
burned out, and infinitely darker to the unfortunate. Everybody
was thrown out of business, or had friends cast upon them for
support or aid. The hungry were fed, the shelterless welcomed
to a refuge, the naked clothed, and a general sharing of every
thing — an equal division — seemed going forward in every part of
the saved district. Many people packed their goods and made
arrangements to fly at the first alarm of new fires. Few slept
soundly, even of the' worn and weary. Children were in great
distress, through the excitement of the day and the rumors that
spread in wild profusion. The rain that fell was soothing to the
mind and grateful to the eyes of those who were compelled to
venture out the next day. Such dust had scarcely ever afflicted
a people, and the smoke aggravated the visitation.
The presses were all lost, and there was an absence of any me
dium of reliable news. Correspondents are right in saying that
'' the wildest rumors were afloat, and people on the South Side
were perfectly beside themselves with fear. The dead were mul
tiplied into thousands; the fire was attributed to incendiaries;
forty people had been burned in the Court-House; incendiaries
had been caught in the act and thrcfcvn into the fire ; vigilance
committees had lynched others; men were dangling from lamp
posts everywhere; all the bank vaults had been burned out; the
rest of the city was to be burned at night. The boldest robbery
was still going on ; organized gangs of thieves prowled through
the streets laden with plunder. The police were worn out, and
were wor»o than useless. Citizen patrols of the most ferocious
character were firing off pistols everywhere. All along the north
ward progress ot the fire there had whirled in uttermost confu
sion a throng of hurrying people, and of carts, wagons, carriages

IN CHICAGO AKD THE WEST. 207
— whatever could be drummed into the service to remove goods ;
and when night fell 75,000 to 100,000 people — north, west, and
south — had either sought refuge with friends or were refugeless
in the streets ; and, added to all this, the city 'was wild with fear
of what the night might bring forth ; torches said to be ready to
finish the destruction of the city ; 1,500 thieves said to be organ
ized for a raid of pillage upon the bank vaults, and whispers
hoarsely breathed everywhere of fever and pestilence ready to fall
upon a population left without water, with but short rations of
food, with most insufficient shelter," and in the midst of loosened
spirits of noxious evil stalking through the wide ruin; monsters
of imagination evidently enough, and .yet amply real ,to mindB
that could not possibly imagine a few hours before that any comT
bination of effort could have burned to the ground the half that
has fallen before the tumbling of one lamp into the litter of a
stable." If we dreaded the night, morning was, if possible, more dread
ful still, for there lay the remnants of our lost city, and all around
us were multitudes of dependent people and of wicked despera
does. But the ground looked damp and the air was soft and
mild, and the sun still shone in the heavens, reminding us of the
ever-during mercy of Him in whose hands we were — "The
Father of lights, with whom is no variableness or shadow of turn
ing." It was well for us that our hands were so full of work for
the miserable victims, for thus our own griefs. were forgotten in
the humane labors of relief, and our attention was diverted from
those sickening ruins where lay the dead undiscovered, and the
unopened smoking safes, and the wreck of all our city's great
ness. A ride over the burnt district from the little shanty to
Lincoln Park, was more dismal than a walk through Pom
peii, or an excursion among the wrecks of Paris, wrought by
Communists from within, and Prussians from without. We

208 HISTORY OF THK GREAT FIRI.S
leave a faithful observer to record what he saw in such a
tramp. Thursday, the third day after the fire, was clear, bright, and
cloudless. The wind had died away, and I rode over the whole
area of the disaster. There was no smoke or sign of remaining
fire save in the great burning coal heaps along the river, or when*
mountains of smouldering grain were all that remained of the di-
stroyed elevators. The fierceness of the flame had burned up
everything combustible, and swept away the ashes as fast as con
sumed. The piles of crumbled masonry, hundreds of acres in
extent, were even free from smoke stains. The streets were free
enough to allow me to drive unimpeded. The Court-House is the
most imposing ruin. Generally the larger structures are flat
with the ground. The Sherman House debris are shapeless — :
almost level. So is all that remains of Field & Letter's white
marble store. The Pacific Hotel walls are one-third down, the
interior totally burned out. The following costly buildings were
designed to be fire-proof: — The Republic Life Insurance Com
pany's building, Nixon's adjoining unfinished building, First
National Bank, the Safe Depository, the Tribune building.
•Only Nixon's remains, it having been exposed to far less heat
than the others. The rest are ruined. The late busy corners
are almost undistinguishable, and old citizens contest the point as
to whether this is Lake or Randolph, that Clark or Dearborn,
until some familiar recovered landmark decides it. The only
route to the North Division is across Lake street to the West
Side, where we cross the North Branch at Indiana street, and
drive northward three miles. We ride the whole distance on
the raised grade of the Nicolson pavement, across a bare, treeless,
vacant plain, and as we near Wright's Grove, we look southward
and see from where we stand in our vehicle, the firet and nearest
unharmed structure, the Wabash avenue Methodist church at-
Ilarrisou street, nearly four miles away. The elegant frame villa

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 209
of Malilou D. Ogden, in its wooden enclosure of an entire square,
its graperies and wooden out-houses, is alone unharmed, an oasis
in a wide desert. From the burned tract of nearly two hundred
squares, every trace of combustion and combustible has dis
appeared. Even the turf burned up and its ashes blew away,
leaving the naked soil.
The city will be rebuilt better than before. It will be a hand
somer and a safer city than it could ever have been without this
fire, but its purchase money strikes at the money centres of the
world. Recuperation has already commenced, but it began in
Chicago on Tuesday, in a city from which every public building,
every newspaper, every power-press^ 'all leading hotels, all. but
one wholesale store, eighteen churches, two great railway depot
structures, six of its bridges, six large elevators, fifty vessels, and
sixteen thousand dwellings had disappeared totally.
Using again the pen of the correspondent of the New York
Tribune, we show what was transpiring by day, and how the scene
appeared by night, as the time passed on. He is writing October
14th: — The town is beginning to fill with aesthetic sight-seers.
The artists of the illustrated papers are seated at every coign of
vantage, sketching for dear life against the closing of the mail.
Photographers, alarmed by the prospect of speedy reconstruction,
are training their cameras upon every unprotected point of pic
turesque ruin. They are sure of a ready sale of all the shadows
they seize in these days. There has rarely been offered to the
pitying admiration of men a collection of pictures of more poig
nant beauty. If one could divest himself of all feelings of sym
pathy and pain he could gain from these smoking squares the
finest intellectual enjoyment. Monotonous as the gray stretch of
desolation appears at first, the longer yon look and linger tho
more this uniformity of character and color breaks up and reveals
to you an infinite study of lines and forms. Of course, these ruins
luck the consecration which has come with the course of ages to

210 HISTORY OV THE GREAT FIRES
the splintered monoliths of Thebes and the gnawed plintfca of
Peestum. But is there not an equal if not greater human interest
in surveying these brand-new shards of a great city, and reflecting
that the builders do not hide from our sympathies in the mists
of immemorial time, but to-day live and breathe, think the same
thoughts which found expression in these broken walls and melted
columns, eat and drink and love and grieve and hope, and go on
with work kindred to that which now has suddenly taken its
place in the Past ? Every one who has looked upon ruins has
felt the keen, imperious desire to know what manner of men it
was that built them and looked upon them when they were fresh
in the sunshine of those older days. Half the joy and half the
pain of travel is in this vain imagining. But here you look at
these imposing wrecks, still Titanic and most impressive in a
decay that already seems historical, and you reflect with a sudden
feeling of surprise that you know by heart the sermon they are
preaching. Tou are yourself a part of the life they symbolize,
of the civilization which they express. Vou have heard the
prayers and the oaths, the laughter and the cries, to the sound ol
which those walls went up. There is no unknown quantity in the
problem they present. There it is — make of it what you will. If
you come to nothing, do not blame time or history for the dust
that is in your eyes.
Strolling through the town in the day-time, you see that it must
have been a heat of singular intensity that molted down six miles
of brick and mortar so soon into one iindistinjjuishable mass. It
took only about twelve hours to virtually finish the work; all that
was done after that, was the after-wrath of the flame gleaning
about the edges of the field it had reaped. But there has never
been a fire which so completely attended to its business and
slighted no part of its work. It seems like a mere figure of"
speech to speak of a quarter utterly destroyed. The phrase is
always used about great fires, but usually means that all the
houses are more or h>-s damaged. In this case it is literal! v true.

DM CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 211
Most of the houses are level heaps of calcined building material.
The walls of the Custom-House are still standing;' the Court-
House wings refuse to fall. The fire-proof Tribune disdains
surrender, though only a phantom house. A few heavily
buttressed church towers wait also for the hammer of demo
lition. But with these exceptions, the central region of Chi
cago has ceased to exist. Ton can look through it to the far-
off waste of the North Division. In many places the solid granite
.has cracked and peeled in great flakes, like stucco in the frost.
The iron castings are partly melted arid partly twisted into forms
of startling grotesqueness. I have seen' fluted columns, bell wires,
gas and water pipes, wreathed and twisted among the smoulder
ing ashes of a cellar like a coil of snakes of assorted sizes.' Even
the pretty gratings of the Safe Deposit Company, the best pre
served of all, are fearfully warped and bent, like a character
which has resisted temptation with a woful loss of temper.
These details we have been permitted to see for some days ; for
although the proprietors are eager to begin their work of recon
struction, tho lack of water has thus far made it impossible to
quench the smouldering flames. So that the light shimmer of the
brooding heat hangs all day above the rubbish, and the air is full
of the pungent odor of coals. When night comes a strange and
beautiful transformation is wrought in the scene. Every evening
since I have been here I have watched with increasing interest
this marvellous and fascinating change. As the sun goes down
in the prairie, and the night wind comes in from the Lake, this
sleeping fire rouses and stirs in its slumber like a woman who
shakes off the day's decorum, and flushes at the coming of her
lover. The vast ignited coal-beds on the shore of the river throw
red greetings to each other through the gathering shadows. The
darkness slowly veils the lines of shattered walls, and one
by one through the gloom twinkle out the delicate blue
flames that spring from the anthracite coal-boxes of the burned
mansions. They are so blue, and fine, and fragile, that they seem

212 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
like forget-me-nots gemming the dusky field. They arc very per
sistent though. They have been pouring tuns of water through
the sidewalk upon one small deposit in front of Gov. Bross's resi^
dence, and yet at night it blooms as bluely and vigorously as if t
were refreshed by the watering.
As the darkness deepens, the show increases in brilliancy,
until, by a most lovely effect of reflection, the blaze from the
nnquencbed fires strikes the clouds of smoke that hang over the
city, and turns them a brilliant rose. The pillar of cloud be->
comes a pillar of fire, and all at once the dead lustre of this
reflected light falls back upon the ruins and brings them out into
pale and singular distinctness. It is not possible to imagine
anything more terribly beautiful than this wild commerce of the
fire and the darkness. From my window I see the whole sweep of
the vast illumination. On the left a coal heap stretches beyond
the river like a shore of fire ; a boat on this side is blackly painted
athwart the blaze. The sky is flushed with the flame and mot
tled with driving clouds, and against it loom tho ragged and torn
walls of the Pacific Hotel, the sturdy arch of the First Presby
terian Church, and further to the right the broken outlines of the
Conrt-Housc, far more reverend and graceful than ever in their
forlorn incompleteness. All along the red horizon the coal heaps
blaze and the sky is on fire, and the sharp angles of broken walls
and the slim stems of black chimneys like minarets are drawn
sharply on the crimson background. I do not know if it could
be within the reach of painting to give any hint of the unuttera
ble magic of this spectacle. No sunset was ever so rosy as that
smoky sky. No frost-castle built on a window-pane out of a
child's breath was ever more delicate than those fantastic ruins,
flung like tattered lace against the drifting clouds. On the ex
treme right, just within the yellow blaze of the light that guards
the breakwater, the great Central Elevator towers above tho
shore, shrugging its vast shoulders over the desolation, contem-

iiiilBIMIM.-:'

BURNINa OF THE CEOS*

°y OPER

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 215
plating its mirrored bulk by the flickering blaze of its fallen
companion. After all this revel of form and color it is a relief
to look to the east, where Lake Michigan lies in his night-dress
of mist, and whispers as peacefully to the sandy beach as he
did in the days before Columbus, and as he will in the days after
Jonathan. Tho crowning evil of all times of tumult and disaster is sus
picion. Wc cannot burn witches now, nor tear out the tongues
of Jews for imaginary crimes. But wo can 6hoot old women for
pumping petroleum if we are Parisians, 'and .we can resurrect
them in back alleys if we live in Chicagd.>x,That famous South
western verdict, which attributed a suicide to .'.'. accidence, inci
dence, and the acts of the incenduary," seems to have possessed
the Chicago fancy ; and though they do not positively hang or
Bhoot their petroleum population, they say they do in their newsT
papers, and occasionally seize a shivering vagabond whom they
find skulking on the sunny side of a barn, and drag him
before General Sheridan for trial. Lnckily this sagacious sol
dier has a cool head and an honest judgment, and insists
on better evidence than poverty and dirt to hang a man, and the
consequence is that not one case of incendiarism has been shown
at headquarters. There have been two or three fires in regard
to which the cry of incendiarism was promptly raised, but
investigation at once made evident their accidental character.
This general suspicion, however, has resulted in the establishment
of an institution which is altogether laudable as long as the em
bers of the conflagration remain alive. A patrol of citizens has
been formed in every block, and they all do sentry duty at stated
hours. Every man out at night without cause finds it a little in
convenient to give repeated accounts of himself, and this of itself
is promotive of the domestic virtues. The rule is certainly ad
mirable in its application to that portion of the twilight popula
tion which always comes to the surface at such hours. In the
13

216 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
day-time you may see them slouching about Wabash avenue,
where their rascal faces and hang-dog air are never seen in ordi
nary times. It would certainly not be prudent to give the city
up to them, and so at night they are kept in their own haunts.
It is astonishing to see how simple and provincial Chicago has
become. Standing sentry is positively the only recreation of men
of the world. There are no clubs, no restaurants, no theatres, no
libraries. There is no need of going out — if you go, a wall falls
on you by way of warning. A little while ago, as I sat here
writing, I heard a loud crash, and looking out, I saw that the high
wall of Mr. Scammon's house had fallen. A furious gale was
blowing from the south and roaring among the ruins. As I
looked another wall came sprawling over the sidewalk. As the
White dust rose and fled away with the wind, I heard a pitiful
cry, " Help over dere I A man's got his leg broke." A dozen per
sons ran from the hotel and brought in a poor German who was
watching the building, and had imprudently taken shelter from
the wind under the wall. After he was safely bestowed I stood
for a moment at the window looking westward at the fine arch of
the Presbyterian Church, clearly and richly defined against the
red glow of the sky. Full in my sight it tottered, parted with a
dull report, and tumbled forward into the street. The gale in
creased in violence ; the pale, shadowless light faded from the
city as the wind drove away the illuminated clouds. The black
ness of night, which had been hanging in the eastern horizon,
swept in over the Lake to the town. The whistling wind was
thick with lime-dust and sparks of fire. The blue flames of the
anthracite burned more gayly, looking now like the witch watch-
fires on some unusually tempestuous Walpurgis-night. A gentle
man with a white cravat and a black face knocks, and requests,
with the compliments of the authorities, that lights may be put
out and windows closed. And so to bed, with a gale lashing the
cahn Lake into discontent, and the intermittent rattle of falling

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 217
ruins, reminding one of an artillery battle between two absent
minded armies.

CHAPTER XXIV,

In the Sacred Volume, the same incidents, scenes,' and narra
tives are repeated under various forms, in order to give all shades
•_1 ' \-<r r
of the important truths recorded/; and impress all minds accord
ing to their different constituti6ris'and*j6riditions.''.It is necessary
to read many histories in order to obtain just and adequate views
of the course of events. One corrects another, or supplies what
seems deficient in his story or estimate of things and men. In the
accounts of some writers, the gas-works on the South Side ex
ploded with noise and fury. Whereas the facts are these : When
the fire seriously menaced the gas-works, to avoid an explosion,
a sixteen-inch pipe was opened and the whole dischargod into the
air. The wind carried it swiftly over the buildings, and the in
cendiary sparks set it afire, and in five minutes three squares
were wrapped in a blaze. Thus everything conspired to give
impetus to the work of destruction from firet to last. All things
seemed leagued in a fell conspiracy, and the efforts of man were
almost powerless against the combined forces of nature, which
wrought so eagerly together.
The New York Independent said " the great fire at Chicago
need not have occurred if the firemen had been sober : " a state
ment either grossly unjust or frightfully significant. In order to
do justice to the Department, we must let them be heard, and
the verdict, based upon such evidence, will be more likely to ac
cord with truth. Like the human face in its infinite variety of
form and expression, every individual experience has some char
acteristic peculiarities. A gentleman telling his story, said to the

218 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
writer : My house was as far from the fire, when I got home, a»
yonder brick building, a block away, one-twelfth of a mile, and
yet I could not stand in the doorway, such was the violence of
the heat at that distance. In speaking of his light insurance,
he explained it, by observing that he did not consider his stock
combustible, viz., marble for tombstones, mantels, and buildings;
yet scarcely a whole piece survived the fierce heat, and his ware
house stood on the edge of the north side at the river bank.
A lovely Christian woman, who was in the heart of the burn
ing fiery furnace, evidently realized the situation, at least in
spirit, of the three worthies in Nebuchadnezzar's seven times hot
oven, who had the form of the fourth with them, and so perished
not, but triumphed through His grace. In describing her
feelings as she fled, she said, she turned from flight and looked
back upon the vast column of fire that swept adown the street
burying all in destruction, and she thought of Paul's words
— "as having nothing, yet possessing all things," and she seemed
to herself, though stripped of everything and destitute at mid
night, to be rich, because God was hers. My Father is bet
ter than His gifts, and He is still mine, blessed be His name!
Her grief, though real, found its sanctifying grace, and out of all
that burning she comes, as gold refined, shining and pure as a
saint of God.
Many such true hearts were strengthened in their attachment
to God. As a godly deacon said, I have my papers and my
children — I am thankful. To him there was no such thing as
despondency or gloom, for his treasures were laid up above
the reach of the flames, and his hope did not consist iu earthly
prosperity, but in the mercy of Jesus Christ.
In sad contrast was the first utterance of a liberal minister as.
he opened his sermon among the ruins of his church edifice: I
have nothing to thank God for. There can never occur such a
crisis in any Christian's career, however dark ; and adversity is the

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 219
blessing most approved in the New Testament. Such seemed the
prevalent view of the Christian people of Chicago. Mr. Moody,
who saved from his library nothing except his Bible, not a scrap
nor a book besides, was unchanged in the cheerful tone and tem
per which characterize his buoyant, believing heart. Said he, I
asked myself, what shall 1 take? and I grabbed my Bible and
ran out of my house.
Many men had their hair-breadth 'scapes and peculiar perils
to encounter, either in rescuing their property, families, or neigh
bors. !...:.¦;. ;>:Ji"'£:i;A'is'._. ¦. ; ".u.i.s,.,
Mr. George J. Read got together the firm's books and papers
and put them in a bag to remove them to his own residence on
the West Side, and oftered men large sums to convey him and his
valuables across the bridge. Finding time short and no one wil
ling to aid him, he boldly proceeded to drag his load from the
alley between Lake and Water streets; and, the fire drawing
Dear, he chose Water street, and was making what haste he could,
when a large mass of felt roofing came whirling down all ablaze
and struck him fairly upon the chest. Quicker than thought he
turned, so as to give the wind a chance to catch the burning
mass, and send it flying away over the tops of the buildings
across the street. By this sudden detaching of the incendiary
felting from his person, he has no doubt he saved his life, as, in
that hurricane, he would have been set on fire in an instant
and perished there. Ho pursued his way amidst showers of
fire and secured his precious treasure and reached his home
in safety.
Mr. J. W. Goodspeed, the publisher, found himself encom
passed with flames, in trying to get away from the store with his
papers, which he fortunately took from the worthless safe, and,
making a rush to break through, he was compelled to retire.
Placing a handkerchief over his head and face, and measuring
his distance, he leaped forward and reached a place of safety.

220 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
He tells how the wind poured the sparks down into the streets
and narrow passages by which he and his father sought to make
their way homeward from Lake near La Salle street, and whirled
his chromos out of his arms through the air, almost prostrating
them. They found an old cart back of their building, and loaded
it with what few articles they could snatch from the clutches
of the fire, and drew it some two miles in the night amidst the
throneed avenues.
Mrs. Hobson, the milliner, carefully placed in a wagon her
choicest goods, as many as she could collect at such a time, and,
pu tting herself in the thills, drew her load down toward the Lake,
where she hoped for safety. Stopping a moment to rest, she
turned to her load — and it was gone; all had been stolen on the
way, after her endeavor to save them. The powers of darkness
seemed to be let loose to prey upon the people and turn human
creatures into fiends.
A gentleman, who succeeded in getting a new carpet out
of his dwelling, and removing it to a basement where he and
his family took refuge, looked in vain for it the next morn
ing. It was stolen. There was no mercy in the hearts of these
plunderers. A good deacon, trying to carry away his goods in wagons, saw
a woman take up a valuable package and start off with her
plunder, when he called to her and she laid it down. A moment
after she repeated her attempt, and he laid hands on her. Again
she took advantage of his momentary absence, to steal, and he,
finding her obstinate, deliberately smote her with his fist, and
she fell to the earth. This put an end to her depredations, and
the church militant became the church triumphant.
A portion of the North Division was saved by Mr. Davis, who
early saw that all was gone in the business portion of the town ; x
and returned home to protect what little remained, hi3 house, the
shelter of his family. Procuring help, he dug three wells, and

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 221
obtained water enough to wet the roof of his house and to keep
carpets and blankets wet, by wliich all incipient fires from sparks
were put out at once. He took a pail of water and a shovel and
stationed himself where he could prevent the sidewalk and fence
from burning. Being far out, the fire came to him late in the
day. As flames would creep along the walk, he used sand and
quenched them. Often the heat was so intense that he was
obliged to wet his handkerchief from the pail, and breathe
through that. He felt several times as if he must abandon, his
post, and allow his home to go down with the rest y but renew-,
ing his courage and moistening his face 'and hands, he continued
to fight the fire till darkness set in on Monday night^r '-While he
still struggled with the devouring element, he felt a droprbf rain
fall on his cheek, the forerunner of the shower, and his grateful
heart poured forth a shower of tears from his eyes. He could
then retire and sleep with a sense of repose, and a consciousness
that God had appeared for his deliverance.
Mr. Kimball, of the Michigan Central Railroad, was driven from
his house towards morning, and fled to the beach, leaving choice
mementos and collections. Many years ago, probably twenty-
two, be was in India, and procured for a favorite aunt, who liked
<*ood coffee, a parcel of peculiar excellence. On a recent visit
she gave him two pounds or more of this package of coffee, and
he had determined that they would use it only on Sunday morn
ings for a luxury, as coffee like wine improves with age. That
was burned too brown — probably scorched and spoiled. The
birds were let out of their cages, and the books left to consume,
and they seized what few things they could carry in bundles, and
ran for dear life to the edge of the Lake. Here they stayed in a
prison of fire and water, alternately wetting their faces and their
handkerchiefs, through which alone they could breathe at times,
and putting out fires that caught in their bundles from flying
sparks. Seeing no other hope of rescue. Mr. K. and his wife

222 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
made their way to the river, and stepped aboard the Alpena,
which was in tow of another propeller, and rode out into the
Lake three miles, where the boats anchored. There were sixty
persons on board, and not a mouthful of food. The Lake was
vcrv rou<di, and, as a matter ot course, it set them all cascading
violently ; from which condition they did not recover till an engi
neer came aboard and got up steam, and they were transferred
to a large propeller that lay in the basin inside the dock by the
light-house. Here they were generously provided with supper,
at 11 o'clock at night, and tasted food for the firet time since three
the day before. They could not determine during that day, while
they were riding at anchor, whether the whole city was burnt or
not. They did see Terrace row on Michigan avenue in its confla
gration, but the smoke was too dense and blinding over the water
CD 7 O . .
to allow any true knowledge of the extent of the destruction.
Hundreds, and perhaps thousands, were similarly tortured by
anxiety and doubt, until Tuesday morning, or late Monday
evening. A North-sider, worth a quarter of a million at the time of the
fire, was glad to accept two pairs of blankets, as he said, " to keep
the family warm." He had seven dollars in his pocket Saturday
night, and spent two of that amount to pay a man for setting an
article of furniture into the street, which was afterwards burned.
His wife's and daughter's clothing on their wagon took fire and
had to be abandoned. The latter became a mother that night in
the basement to which they fled. His work-people clamored for
their week's '.vagos, cr wi.-hed his issistancc, ac they were penn.'iess.
His safe was entirely lost. There was no bank open, and he was
in straits such as press the life out of a proud man. How they
st"-viv__d \'A\ 1;" could *p.nd info the. countrv and make collections,
and what they suffered, it were hard to tell.
A mother got separated from her two boys, and such agony as
she experienced only mothers can realize. Through the bulletin

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 223
in the church where the bureau of missing and fonnd ones was
kept, she learned that her jewels were safe in the little town of
Austin, a few miles distant. Some farmer had picked them up,
given them shelter, and reported them for the benefit of their
mother if she were alive.
Mr. Holden reports, that when the throng was greatest about
the First Congregational Church he saw a woman at a window
beckoning earnestly to be admitted. Something in her appear-.
ance arrested him strongly, and he sent a policeman to bring her
in through the crowd. In an hour from that time, perhaps, she
stood by his side and explained that her hnsband, a German, was
badly cut from his shoulder downftd his waist, and had ;nb>at-.
tention. While she was telling herpitiful 6tory,:the poor woman
fainted and fell to the floor, and was removed and cared for., u .'
Some of the scenes that transpired about and in the fire were
disgraceful beyond measure. The saloons were, many of them,
thrown open, and men exhorted to free drinking needed but one
invitation. Hundreds were soon dead drunk, or fighting and
screaming ; many thus fell victims to the flames, and some were
dragged away by main force and rescued from roasting. Even
respectable men, seeing that all was lost, sought to drown their
misery7 by intoxication.
Would that more had been able to answer according to the
hero of the following Chicago dialogue : —
" Well, Jim, are you burnt out ?" Jim : " Not I : I don't drink."
We have too many whose very manhood is consumed by the
'' hot damnation," ar.d stand like some of oui blackened ruins, a
mockery of poor humanity. Di Goodwin tells us how the
streets were here and there choked with the whiskey barrels rolled
out of their hiding-places, and how they fairly ran, and were
flooded with the infernal stuff. Why, there were quarters where,
because of burst barrels and broken demijohns, the very air was
drunk a square away. I remember down on Van Buren street, in

221 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
one of the early hours of the fire, that while two or three of us
were tryin" to help a poor widow save her little handful of stuff,
we ran against a saloon-keeper hammering away furiously to
tighten the hoops on a cask that had sprung a leak, and calling
vigorously on the bystanders to help save his treasures ; whereup
on one of our Sunday-school boys mounted on a pile of barrels,
and with a sly nod to me, set the spigot of a cider brandy-cask
running; and I did not turn the spigot back, nor scold the boy I
But worse than this were the instances of theft and cold
blooded avarice which occurred and have come to light. One
person was trying to remove valuable papera from an office and
asked two firemen to help him, but they refused unless he paid
them $50 ; the papers were destroyed. Drivers of express wagons .
have taken $100 and even $500 for an hour's use of their vehicles,
in getting distressed people away from danger.
A book-keeper, engaged in conveying away the firm's records,
fell fainting in the alley behind the store, overcome by exertion
and suffocated by the smoke and dust. The shock restored him
to consciousness, and upon attempting to rise he found himself
unable to stand. Just then a man was passing, and he hailed
him with a request for help. The wretch offered to assist for a
hundred dollars. The fallen man said, ''I have but ten, and I
will give you that." For this amount he gave his arm to the
poor sufferer, and saved his life. A girl carried her sewing-ma
chine to four different points, and was forced from each by the
advancing fiend. At last an expressman seized her treasure,
and in spite of all her efforts drove away with it. Said the im
poverished girl, " Do you wonder Chicago burned ? " In front
of a wholesale house the sidewalk was bloody from the punish
ment inflicted by the police upon sneak-thieves. Trunks were
rifled after their owners had placed them out of reach of fire.
They were broken open by dozens on the Lake shore, and the
empty trunks tossed into the water. Pieces of broadcloth were

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 225
torn into strips three yards long and distributed among a party
who said, " These will make us each a good suit." Persons who
saw and heard these things were powerless, and the confusion was
so terrible that no one could look out for any one but himself, or
interfere for the protection of others' property. It was a time
when the worst forces of society were jubilant, and all the villains
had free course. The Court-House jail had one hundred and sixty
prisoners, and these were let loose to prey upon the people in the
time of their helplessness and extremity. Such an event was a
public calamity ; but humanity'would not permit the poor wretch
es to perish there, and no means 'were at hand to convey them to
any other place of confinement. ^Mytf'V?;' -'i'iKi " ' '* :¦' ";r '"'"
One of our city papers thus deals with the oil-stone story :
The New York Journal of Commerce has swallowed the oil
stone story ; and assuming it as a fact that Chicago was built of
stone heavily charged with petroleum, thus describes the process
of destruction :
" An eye-witness of the process says he saw the flames cross
streets and lick with long tongues at the stone buildings opposite.
The latter, as they became intensely heated, emitted jets of gas,
upon which the flames would, catch and then go out again,
repeating the operation a number of times, when — presto — the
stone would apparently be in flames. This is precisely the
action of fire on anthracite, as any one may see by watching
a large lump of coal in his grate. Like coal, these stones were
reduced to ashes."
That eye-witness had a lively imagination. We repeat that the
only building in this city of any size built of the supposed oil
stone was the Second Presbyterian Church, and the walls of that
building were not reduced to ashes, but stand conspicuously erect
among the ruins of a hundred other buildings utterly destroyed.
The foundation for this oil-stone theory is the following from a
number of Chambers' Journal :

lJ-;0 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
" In the neighborhood of Chicago there are enormous deposits
of this oil-hearing limestone; some of the houses in the city are
built of it. and after a while present a smeary appearance from
exudation of the oil. The least thickness of the mass is thirty-
five feet, and it litis been estimated from experiment that each
square mile of it contains seven and three-quarter million barrels,
each of forty gallons, of petroleum."
Some years ago, when the oil-fever was at its height, and men
were making fortunes in a week, some persons conceived the
idea that the stone in an old quariy northwest of the city gave
evidence of oil. If we mistake not, certain disembodied spirits
encouraged the idea, and boring was begun. The oil-rock was
perforated without getting a drop of oil ; but the boring went on
until at last they struck a vein of water in no wise tinctured with
petroleum. A countryman with a carpet-bag appeared the second week
after the fire, and told his errand. He had a debt of five hun
dred dollars on his farm, and having heard of the great liberality
of the Chicago people, how they took up collections of many
thousands on a single Sabbath morning, he thought that they
would be willing to pay off that mortgage for him, and thus
enable him and his wife, as they were growing old, to live easy
and take comfort the rest of their days. I suggested to him that
the fire had impoverished us. Well, he said, he had thought of
that, and had made up his mind, as he had some good apples,
that he would donate to every person who gave him five dollars,
a barrel of tipples. Thus they would be helping him, and get
something for themselves. Dinner was ready, and he sat down
to a good meal ; and after dining he entered into some account
of his experience, and asked earnestly my opinion of certain
heresies that were being promulgated in his neighborhood.
Having run through all the subjects he could think of, he sug
gested that he should have to stay all night, and perhaps I could

EN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 227
keep him, or send him to some of the benevolent people for a
night's lodging. I intimated to him that every body was full, on
account of the exodus of so many thousands from the burnt dis
trict to our quarter. Bethinking himself of another pastor, he
started ofl' to try and interest him, as I could give him little
or no encouragement. It was doubtful whether he found the
doctor in a mood to entertain his appeal for charity at that
juncture. For charming simphcity and cool audacity this sur
passed anything in my former experience. ., ,:. ,;;1 ,,,,,, ,.,vy
¦ ¦ How different the case of a noble man who came to his pastor
for comfort and for nothing more:, although he had been ruined,
and his son had been driven away to . another city for employ
ment as an engraver, and his wife. was in a distant city, he
would not allow any appeal for assistance, as he had gone to
work, though not a carpenter, as a foreman in re-erecting build
ings on the desolated grounds. Won't you have a pair of boots ?
No ; I can buy some. Nothing wonld he receive. He had been
formerly burned out in Wisconsin, and had many times aided his
unfortunate neighbors in similar troubles. He told how he had,
early iu Chicago's history, refused to invest his money in a block
now worth half a million, and gone away up into Wisconsin, and
there struggled and toiled, and finally lost everything.
A gentleman relates the following case of selfish, brutal mean
ness : —
In a church some blocks away, quite on the northwest verge of
population, I found other examples of suffering. The first to
greet me was a bright and brave German fellow, also a dry-goods
clerk, who bad rescued his wife and five children, and had saved
plenty of good clothing and household stuff enough for tolerable
comfort, only that he had no money and no chance of securing a
bouse. He took little thought for himself, however, but showed
me a family of ten — eight small children — the father and mother
workers with the sewing-machine. They had owned a house and

-__S HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
lot worth §4,000 or $5,000, with a debt of $700. The half-weekly
payments for making up clothing had been their living. When
the fire came, the two Singer sewing-machines were saved by
burying them in the garden behind the house. Tuesday morning,
on Toiii" to inspect, the man found ghouls just ready to make off
with them. One of these saved appearances for the moment by
offering to carry them to the owner's place of refuge, but on reach
ing this demanded $10, and took one of the $85 machines in lieu
of payment. I am happy to say that two of Sheridan's bayonets
are after that fellow, and that w.e have stem law for these extor-
tions if the perpetrators are caught. ' '--ji^..;ci
Another, a sufferer, states his bitter experience, and adds sev
eral interesting incidents : —
His residence was situated in the centre' of the burnt district,
and at an early hour was consumed. One of the first places to
which he repaired was the Sherman House, in which he had
friends. He found it on his arrival still untouched, but the guests
were passing out in all directions.
Among other incidents he witnessed is one not the least strange
of the many wliich have been told. A guest of the house, on his
.vay from the West, had with him his invalid wife and children.
In the hurry of the moment they were overlooked, and a3 the fire
was rapidly encroaching on the building, he became frantic in his
efforts to stive his family. The conveyances around the hotel
were all engaged, but by paying $1,000 he managed to secure an
express wagon and thus escaped. On Wabash avenue the owner
of one of its marble houses had his carriage and colored coachman
drawn up at his door, preparatory to conveying his family to a
place of refuge. Three ruffians on the look-out for plunder ap
proached the carriage, and, jumping on to the seat, threw a sack
over the head and shoulders of the coachman and hauled him to
the ground. They rapidly drove away in the vehicle, leaving its
owner to shift as well as he could without it.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 229
Along lower Clark and State streets were located many livery
stables. The horses were taken out at the first alarm and brought
to what was thought to be a place of safety. Hundreds of them
were gathered together in one inclosure. When the fire ap
proached them they became strangely agitated, and their terror
finally became so great that they broke from their fastenings,
causing a general stampede. The scene was a frightful one. In
their madness they trampled each other to death, and breaking
loose among the crowds of fugitive., added not a little to the
general alarm. '¦-./.' .•.¦¦;.;, .-.< :'<¦:.; ai.'Jo'xI. : v.-. ..;:;.•,.;::_;[' '.
y Going along Madison street, our informant was met by an, ex;
cited individual, who was wildly shouting, ?f.I knew they would
doit! — I knew they would do it I " -: r. ¦ rrrr -jX-ulrr) ..s.ys cdT
.. On being asked to explain, he exclaimed, "The bloody Kur
Klnx have done this, knowing us to have been extra loyal. Thej
have burned our city, and it is useless for us to attempt to escape,
for they will burn us up too ! "
On lower Clark street, just below the Court-House, were some
rows of splendid business houses. The upper portions were fitted
up in furnished rooms, and, sad to say, were let to the less disre
putable portion of the demi-monde.
Being steeped in the heavy slumber of vice, the fire had reached
the lower part of the building before they were apprised of their
awful danger. When they were roused from their lethargy, their
terror was fearful. Appearing at the upper windows of the burn
ing blocks, they found their communication almost cut off, and
their screams were terrific. The staircases were still partly
standing, and after great difficulty the girls were rescued from
their perilous position. One young girl, an Italian, attracted
the attention of all by her picturesque beauty, which was height
ened by the tragic situation in which she was placed. Her hair,
wildly flowing, reached almost to her feet, while the foreign ex
pression of her features and the tragic pose of her attitude made

30V HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
her look like a tragedy queen. She was a striking illustration of
the line, Beauty unadorned, adorned the most.
Poor unfortunate ! She looked fitter for a better life than the
awful one she was pursuing. Who can say what treatment had
driven her from her own sunny clime to our colder climate? Her
looks were noble and striking, her bearing patient and courageous,
and a feeling of intense relief was experienced by the spectators
when she was rescued from the jaws of death.
Immediately before this incident occurred, a fearful scene was to
be witnessed at the corner of Sherman street, about half a block
west of La Salic, near the Michigan Southern Railroad depot.
The street (which was a small one) was entirely occupied by
bagnios, conspicuous among which was the corner one, rim by a
courtesan well known in Chicago as one of the worst characters
that ever disgraced a city. Her name was Nelly Grant, other
wise known as Tipperary Nell, as that historic county had the
honor of giving her birth. As usual the inmates on that fatal
Sunday night wcro in a beastly state of intoxication. The fire
crept upon them unperceived, and had it not been for a burly
driver, the bully of Nelly, the inmates would have been burned in
their beds. As it was tho house had caught before any of them
got out, and the screams, curses, and lamentations of the unfortu
nates were terrible to hear. " Nelly " herself was insensible from
the effects of her potations, and her lover had to carry her out —
no easy job, for she was not by any means what you would call a
" light weight." He succeeded, however, in carrying her to a
place of safety, and the remainder of tho wretches were rescued
without harm.
Going down Dearborn street our informant came to a gents"
furnishing and jewelry store, which the fire was rapidly approach
ing. A crowd had gathered around, and the proprietor, unable to
save his goods, said to them, " Take all you can, boys, for I can't

S'-T.Nl. TN Dl.ATIRORN StTRFF.T WTTRN THK '

Rl. RRACHED THE TTtEMOVT HOTTSF.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 233
save anytliing." Several took wallets and filled them with valu
ables, but the police outside caused them to be delivered up,
doubtless for the benefit of the relief fund.
A MUSEUM.
At Colonel Wood's Museum great preparations had been made
for the production of "Divorce," but it has been indefinitely
shelved till a new building is erected. The drama was one which
would have exactly suited Chicago, as the city, is celebrated for
the ease and celerity by which the marriage tie can there be cut
asunder. "y ^..^.^{r^V '-" \ ¦':..>¦. \
The greatest contrasts were presented on all sides during the
burning. Brave men were endeavoring to cheer downcast women
with an appearance of light-heartedness which was far from real.
Individual instances of gallantry on the part of women were not
wanting, and our informant is in rapture with the coolness dis
played by a widow, whose bravery extorted the admiration of
all who beheld her. She had to cheer the spirits of some half
dozen drooping maidens and guide them to a place of safety,
which she did with perfect success. She was none of your "fair,
fat, and forty " ones, but instead a young and pretty woman, and
from all we can learn she will not long live in widowed blessed
ness, if any of her numerous admirers on the trying Monday can
trace her.
The most ridiculous scenes ever mingled with the most terrible
ones, and the spectacle of the effects that were being carried away
was in many instances extremely amusing.
A lady who kept a boarding-house on Adams street struggled
hard to get her stoves out at the risk of her life, and frantically
abused her lodgers for defacing the walls of her house in carrying
out their trunks. The flames were only half a block away at the
time, and before she had ceased scolding her house had fallen
in, nearly burying her in the ruins. By some the most selfish
14

234 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
spirit was displaved. Next-door neighbors in many instances re
fused each other the slightest assistance, and much valuable prop
erty was thus lost that would otherwise have been saved. On
the other hand, many whose homes escaped the conflagration
acted with a large-hearted generosity, and freely shared their
homes with all the sufferers they could accommodate. This spirit
was particularly manifested by those whose losses had been great
est, and too much praise cannot be bestowed on conduct so noble.
Tho sights to be witnessed on Tuesday were of the most heart
rending description, but as our correspondents have already nar
rated the most of the incidents seen by our informant we need
not recapitulate them. One of them is, however, new. A mother
who had lost her only child was wandering frantically among the
ruins in search of her darling, and when she could discover no
traces of it her reason fled, and she became a raving maniac. On
Tuesday night the gentleman left the city for New York, and he
presents a graphic picture of the excitement and suspense all
along the line of the railroads. The train on leaving the depot
was densely crowded, the aisles of the cars were filled with
passengers, -so that the wheels pounded with the weight, and two
powerful engines were scarce sufficient to carry the convoy along.
Wlx-n it had got about three miles from the city a cry arose in
the cars that the South Side was on fire, and a rush was made for
the windows, from which a lurid glare could be perceived in the
heavens over the lower part of Cottage Grove avenue.
A NEWSPArER EXPLOIT.
The pluckiest thing we have heard of in connection with the
i conflagration is connected with the persistent issue of the Chicago ¦
.Eceniny Pod. That journal, like the others, and even more
. completely than the others, lost everything — building, presses,
• type, paper, material, and even the books. Two of the Post
{.compositors, driven to the West District by the fire, found a little

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 235
job-office, about Monday noon, open and completely deserted, the
occupants having rushed to the fire then raging and seething like
a hell across the city. One instantly wrote out an account of the
fire as far as it bad progressed, and the other put it in type, and
they clapped above it the old familiar words, " The Evening
Post," made it up in a page about six by eight inches, and exult
antly printed it. So not one issue of that paper has failed. *
It being announced that Ee v. T. W. Goodspeed, of Quincy,
Illinois, of the Vermont Street Church, who was present in Chicago
at the time of the fire, and had witnessed many of its scenes and
incidents, would give a narrative thereof at his church, an im
mense crowd was early in attendance, filling all the space in the
building, while hundreds of others, were unable to gain admit
tance. Mr. Goodspeed took no text, giving simply a narrative of
¦what he saw. He commenced by saying:—
It was my fortune to be in Chicago when it was destroyed. I
do not propose to give you a complete history of the conflagration.
You are getting that from day to day through the newspapers.
Many have said to me, " Tell us all you saw." This great calamity
is in all hearts. We are not prepared to speak of or listen to
anything else ; and I have thought there was a sufficient reason
for giving up this service to telling my congregation what I saw
of this unparalleled conflagration. Sympathizing with this
feeling, Mr. Priest has given up his service to be with us, as
has also the congregation of the First Church. I fear you will bo
disappointed in listening to me, as I design to tell you only what
came under my observation, and there were a thousand things I
did not see.
The Chicago river runs directly west from the Lake almost a
mile. It then branches north and south. That part of the city
lying south of the main river, and east of the South Branch, is
called the South Side. That part lying north of the main river,
and east of the North Branch, is the North Side; and all west of

236 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
the two branches the West Side. Each of these divisions is about
one-third of the city.
You are aware that the great fire of Saturday night, which
destroyed several blocks, was on the West Side, near the South
Branch of the river. The fire of Sunday night and Monday began
also on the West Side, near the scene of the other, destroying,
with'that, forty blocks on the West Side ; swept across the South
Branch, destroying a mile square of the South Side — the entire
business portion of the city — crossed the river and laid in ruins
almost the whole of the North Side, about 400 blocks.
Sunday evening I preached in the Second Baptist Church,
which is nearly a mile west of the South Branch. We stopped'
in the study about half an hour after service, and started for my
brother's home a few minutes after nine. It was then that we
first saw the fire, a mile to the south-east. We continued to
watch it from time to time till eleven o'clock, when, supposing it
under control, we retired.
We were aroused a little before four in the morning. Hurrying
on my clothes, I went out. The fire had got far up on the West
Side of the South Branch, aud had evidently crossed the river to
the South Side, and was beyond all control. The wind was
blowing fiercely from the south-west. The whole city was
lighted up by the flames almost like day. As I hastened toward
the river I noticed that the stare were all obscured as effectually
as if the sun were shining, and the moon gave a feeble, sickly
light. It was almost grav, altogether unlike itself.
As I proceeded the streets became more and more crowded.
The whole West Side was gathering and crowding toward the
river. I stopped to rouse my brother, but he had long been
gone. A woman stopped me on Washington street and said:
"My husband's place of business is destroyed, and we are
ruined." Beaching the river, I found that a large part of the South Side

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 237
was still unharmed. Here I saw the massive blocks of the South
Side in flames, and saw vessels being towed north to escape the
fire. I followed the South Branch up to where it joined the North
Brancii and the main river, and looked down the latter to
the Lake. Three or four blocks away the fire had crossed the
river. Wells street bridge was burning. The spectacle was
grand and awful beyond description. Great billows of flame
swept clear across the river, while countless myriads of sparks;
and burning brands filled the air." ''<¦ '-'ftv> - ¦ w- J
Proceeding, I crossed the Kinzie street 'bridge to the North-
Side. Here I met the fugitives— -thousands of people, indeed,
were going both ways — spectators- td-'see, : fugitives to escape/
The streets were filled with merchandise and furniture. "Women
were everywhere guarding their household goods. The air was
filled with a thousand noises. The screaming of the steamers,
the whistle of the tugs, the cries of children, the shouting of
men, the howling of the wind, the roar of the flames, the crash of
falling buildings.
I went on as far as Wells street, and the wind was here a
hurricane. The buildings on Water street and the south bank
of the river caught, and almost instantly they were one vast vol
cano, throwing up great volumes of flame that were caught up
and carried bodily across the stream. The river seemed a boil
ing caldron. We stood under the great elevator at the Wells
street depot and saw on one of them a man wetting the roof.
He had hose, and must have saturated the entire building with
water, yet within fifteen minutes the building was aflame. I
returned to the West Side. The fleeing people were carrying
off articles of every description. Two men were wheeling away
the Indian figure that had stood before their cigar store. One>
man was hurrying off with two whiskey bottles. I stopped
again to look down the main river toward the Lake. The scene
was even more magnificent and awful than before. This was

238 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
indeed the grandest spectacle of all. The whole length of the
river was then one broad sheet of fire.
With cverv fresh blast of wind great billows of fire would roll
across toward the doomed North Side, as if filled with a mad
desire to sweep it away in ruin. Then for a moment they would
subside and show the three bridges wreathed in flames (the water
apparently boiling underneath them), the black walls of the.
buildings on either side, and here and there tongues of flame-
shooting out from doors and windows and roofs. Then again.
two walls of fire, extending a mile away to the Lake, would fiame
up toward heaven for a moment, to be caught by the gale and'
tumbled in fiery ruin to the ground, or carried in great masses of
fire to spread the conflagration. Going on from here I took my*
stand on Lake street bridge. The line of fire extended a mile
or more down the South Branch. Several bridges had already
been consumed. The great coal-yards were beginning to burn,
and almost all the magnificent blocks of the South Side were in
flames. From the slight elevation of the bridge, I could see
almost two square miles of fire.
Looking toward the north-west, and seeing how directly toward"
the water-works the flames were rushing, it crossed my mind that
they would be destroyed. I turned and hastened to my friend's
house, a mile on the West Side, and immediately tried the water.
I was too late, it would not run, and the great city of 300,000
people was without water.
Before seven o'clock I went to another friend's house and
found him just returned from saving his books, and what mer
chandise he could. He had got into his place of business by the
back way, and had been driven away by the swift demon of
destruction. I went to another friend's house to inquire if his
store was safe. He had visited the fire at half-past ten, and
gone home confident it was under control. At three he had
tried to reach his business place, and been driven back by the fire

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 239
that raged between him and it.- I got into his buggy with him
and wo started to find it. Beaching Twelfth street, which runs
across the South Branch, a mile and a quarter south of the Court-
House, we found the street crowded with people and vehicles,
and all pressing toward the South Side. It was a little after
seven o'clock, and of course daylight. We made our way to
Wells or La Salle street, and tried to go up, but the flames
stopped us. We went on to Wabash avenue, and found it to be
bo crowded as to be utterly impassable. , We crossed to Michigan
avenue, fell into the stream of travel, and worked our way up to
the Michigan Avenue Hotel. My friend asked me to hold 'his
horse five minutes, while he went to see what he could find. ;. Left
to myself, I had time to look about me. I despair of describing the
scene to you. It beggars description. It was here that my friend
Sawyer, who is with me in the desk, joined me ; his clothes cov
ered with dust, his hair filled with dust and cinders, his eyes red
from smoke, his face black, so unlike himself that I hardly knew
him. Michigan avenue was burning from within a block of where
we stood a mile away to the river. The magnificent residences and
great business houses were going up in flames and down in black
ness before our eyes. Great volumes of smoke rolling away before
the gale, concealed the North Side from view. But at every
break or lift of the smoke, the great Central Depot could be seen
all in flames. The fire was creeping away out on the piers, and
had reached one of the immense elevators that stood near its
end, and the flames were soon reaching up one hundred and fifty
feet into the air. Every moment we expected to see the great
Central Elevator, standing very near the burning one, fall be
fore the conflagration that had devoured everything else in its
path. But the wind seemed to veer suddenly to the south, and
remained there an hour, and the great elevator was saved ; with
one exception, the only one on the South Side north of the line
of fire. A steamer had reached the mouth of the river, but here

240 HISTORY OF TOE GREAT FIRES
the fire cano-ht her, and I saw its- run from one end to the other in
little lines of light, and so over the rigging till the ship was all
ablaze. Meantime I was in the midst of the wildest confusion I had
ever witnessed. The open space between Michigan avenue and
the Lake was filled with every variety of household goods and
merchandise. There must have been the furniture of a thousand
families crowded into this narrow space. Rich and poor, white
and black, were together. Over every pile of goods stood some
one to guard it. Meantime other fugitives were every moment
crowding into the already overcrowded space, and seeking room
for their goods as well. Thousands of people pressed along the
walks and filled the open spaces — some coming to see and others
fleeing. The avenue was for hours one solid mass of teams.
Up and down the street they pressed endlessly, going up empty
and returning full. At length the press became so great that the
street was completely blockaded, and the police began to turn
the still on-coming multitude of vehicles backward. They chose
the spot where I stood to accomplish this. Then began cursing
and shouting; the teamsters insisting that they must go on,
every one of them having valuable property just ahead; and the
police insisting that to save men's lives they must turn back.
The more determined teamsters went through in spite of the
police, who were strangely inefficient. The more timid or rea
sonable tried to turn back in a street where there was hardly
room to move forward. One backed into my buggy wheels
as I crowded the sidewalk and waited; another ran into one
of the shafts. Twenty feet ahead of me a horse tried to run
away, starting directly toward me. He ran about ten feet
and smashed two buggies. A rod to my left a driver ran
against a buggy wheel and crushed it, regardless of the other's
load. I grew more and more nervous, expecting every mo
ment to have the horse and buggy ruined. Two hours and a

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 241
half passed, and still I waited. I had plenty of time to look
about me.
Every variety of vehicle passed me, loaded with every variety
^of article. I saw one of our former citizens, Mr. Pearson, carry
ing one end of a long glass case filled with his goods — hair done
up in many forms. A dozen or twenty cows picked their way
among the wagons. A woman found her way across the street,
when there chanced to be an opening, leading a great black
dog. The confusion was beyond all description. Up and
down the Michigan Central track locomotives were constantly
moving, drawing heavy trains, or alone, and, it seemed to" me,
blowing their unearthly whistles all the time. r The fire-engines,
a block away, added theirs, which were worse still. The voices
of the police calling to the teamsters, "the responses and often M
curses of the drivers, their impatient yells to one another, the
cry of distressed citizens to the expressmen, the voices of the
crowd, the roaring of the gale, the howling of the conflagra
tion, the crackling of burning houses, the crash of falling walls,
the ringing of bells, the shouts that greeted some new freak
of the flames, and suddenly the sullen thunder that told lis
buildings were being blown up only a block away. The con
flagration of the great day will hardly bring a confusion worse
confounded. The fire still made progress towards me, until the people in all
the houses above and below me removed their goods and fled.
Again came the thundering and shaking of the earth that accom
panied the blowing up of a building. It seemed ominously near;
I could see the fire on the Wabash Avenue Methodist Church,
and was sure it was going, and that was behind me. At length
the vast crowd, men and teams, precipitated themselves down the
avenue like a falling avalanche, and the cry went up that the
building on the corner just above us was to be blown up. Wait
ing no longer, I joined the fleeing multitude and made my way

242 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
as fast as possible a block farther away. After three hours my
friend returned; his coat gone; his face so black and his eyes so
nearly put out, that for a moment I did not know him. He took
his horse, to my great relief, and I proceeded up the avenue
toward the Central Depot, to see what good I could do. On
bevoud Terrace row I went, and had the wliole horrible scene
before me. Not long, however, could I set it. The magnificent
Terrace row was in flames, and the air was tilled with smoke,
and dust, and cinders, and live coals, and fagots of fire. The
middle of this great row fell first, the ends following, covered in
one black cloud of smoke, and ashes, and dust. It was almost
past endurance.
Meanwhile the inflammable material in this narrow space
caught fire in a hundred places. Beds, pillows, quilts, carpets,
sofas, pianos, furniture, and it seemed to me that everything
must be burned. With a small tea-chest I spent hours bringing
water from the Lake, helping to extinguish numberless incipient
fires which broke out continually among the heaps of goods. I
returned home at three p.m.. having had nothing to eat since six
o'clock Sunday evening. Helping to carry a mirror up-staire, I
asked a woman on the way down to give me a drink from a full
pail slie carried, and she refused. In the evening, Monday even
ing, I took my station in the cupola of a four-story building to
view the fire and watch, and for hours witnessed a scene which
no language can describe.
In contrast with this calm and clear sketch of that, memorable
day by the young clergyman providentially in the city, we pre
serve A WOMAN'S STORY OF THE FIRE.
Where shall I begin? How shall I tell the story that I have
been living during these dreadful days'. It's a dream, a night
mare, only so real that I tremble as I write, as though the whole
thing might be brought to me again by merely telling of it.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 243
We lived on the North Side, six blocks from the river — the
newly-regenerated river, which used to be at once the riches and
the despair of our city, but which had just been turned back by
the splendid energy of the people to carry the sweet waters of
Lake Michigan through all its noisome recesses. We were quiet
people, like most of the North-siders, flattering ourselves that our
comfortable wooden bouses and sober, cheery, New England-
looking streets were far preferable to the more rapid, blatant life
of the South Side. --.Ii .». . ¦¦•'•¦ '>'-"
Well, on Sunday morning, October 8, .Robert Collyer gave fiis
people what we all felt to be a wonderful sermon on the text,
"Think ye that those upon whom the tower of Siloam fell were
sinners above all those who dwelt at Jerusalem?" and illustrated
it by a picture of the present life, and our great cities, their gran
deur, their wickedness, and the awful though strictly natural con
sequences of our insatiable pursuit of worldly prosperity, too often
unchecked by principle ; and instanced the many recent dreadful
catastrophes as signs that not the Erie speculators alone, nor the
contractors alone, nor the recognized sinners alone, but we, every
man and woman of the United States, were responsible for these ,
horrors, inasmuch as we did not work, fight, bleed, and die, if ne
cessary, to establish such public opinion as should make them
impossible. I came out gazing about on our beautiful church, and hoping
that not one stone of the dear church at home had been set or
paid for by the rascality which our preacher so eloquently de
picted as certain to bring ruin, material as well as spiritual ; and
so we pass the pleasant, bright day; some of us going down to
the scene of the West Side fire of Saturday night, and espying,
from a good distance, the unhappy losers of so much property.
About half-past five in the evening our neighboring fire telegraph
sent forth some little tintinnabulations, and we lazily wondered,
as D  played the piano, and I watered my ivy, what they

244 niSTORY OF THE great fires
were burning up now. At ten o'clock the fire bells were ringing
constantly, and we went to bed regretting that there must be
more property burning up on the West Side. Eleven o'clock-
twelve o'clock — and I woke my sister, saying, "It's very singu
lar; I never heard anything like the fires to-night. It seems as
if the whole West Side must be afire. Poor people! I wonder
whose carelessness set this agoing?" One o'clock — two o'clock
— we get up and look out. " Great God ! the fire has crossed the
liver from the south. Can there be any danger here ? " And
we looked out to see men hurrying by screaming and swearing,
and the whole city to the south and west of us one vivid glare.
" Where are the engines? Why don't we hear them as usual?"
we asked each other, thoroughly puzzled, but even yet hardly per
sonally frightened by the strange aspect of the brilliant and sur
ging streets below. Then came a loud knocking at the back
door, on Erie street — " Ladies, ladies, get up ! Pack your trunks
and prepare to leave your house ; it may not be necessary, but it's
"well to be prepared ! " It was a friend who had fought his way
through the La Salle street tunnel to warn us that the city is on
fire. We looked at each other with white faces. Well we might.
In an inner room slept an invalid relative, the object of our cease
less care and love, the victim of a terrible and recurring mental
malady, which had already sapped much of his strength and life,
and rendered quiet and absence of excitement the first prescrip
tion of his physicians. Must we call the invalid? and if we did,
in the midst of this fearful glare and turmoil, what would be the
result 1 We determined to wait till the last minute, and threw
some valuables into a trunk, while we anxiously watched the
ever-approaching flame and tumult.
Then there came a strange sound in the air, which stilled, or
seemed to still for a moment, the surging crowd. " Was it thun
der ? " we asked. No, the sky was clear and full of stars, and
we shuddered as we felt, but did not say, it was a tremendous

TN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 245
explosion of gunpowder. By this time the blazing sparks and
bits of burning wood, which we had been fearfully watching,
were fast becoming an unintermitting fire of burning hail, and
another shower of blows on the door warned us that there was
not a moment to be lost. "Call E  " (the invalid) ; " do not
let him stay a minute, and I will try to save our poor little birds !"
My sister flew to wake up our precious charge, and I ran down
Btairs, repeating to myself to make me remember, " birds, deeds,
silver, jewelry, silk dresses," as the order in which we would try
to save our property, if it came to the worst. •-. <; ;.« - . ¦ ..• ''¦-¦¦>¦ , ;
As I passed through our pretty parlors, how my heart ached.
Here the remnant of my father's library;' a copy of a Bible
printed in 1637, on one table ; on another, my dear Mrs. Brown
ing, in five volumes, the gift of a lost friend. What should I
. take? What should I leave? I alternately loaded myself with
gift after gift, and dashed them down, in despair. Lovely pic
tures and statuettes, left by a kind friend for the embellishment
of our little rooms, and which had turned them into a bower of
beaut}7 — must they be teft? At last I stopped before our darling,
a sweet and tender picture of Beatrice Cenci going to execution,
which looked down at me, through the dismal red glare which
was already filling the rooms, with a saintly and weird sweetness
that seemed to have something wistful in it. I thought, "I will
save this, if I die for it ; " but my poor parrot called my name
and asked for a peanut, and I could no more have left him than
if he had been a baby. But, could I carry that huge cage ? No,
indeed ; so I reluctantly took my poor little canary, who was
painfully fluttering about and wondering at the disturbance, and,
kissing him, opened the front door and set him free — only to
smother, I fear. But it was the best I could do for him if I
wished to save my parrot, who had a prior right to be considered
one of the family, if sixteen years of incessant chatter may be
supposed to establish snch a right.

246 niSTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
What a sight our usually pretty quiet street presented ! As
far as I could see, a horrible wall — a surging, struggling, encroach
ing wall — like a vast surface of grimacing demons, came pressing
up the street — a wall of fire, ever nearer and nearer, steadily
advancing upon our midnight helplessness. Was there no wag
on, no carriage, in which we could coax our poor E  , and
take him away from these maddening sights? Truck after truck,
indeed, passed by, but filled with loads of people and goods.
Carriages rushed past drawn by struggling and foaming horses,
and lined with white, scared faces. A truck loaded with goods
dashed up the street, and, as I looked, flames burst out from the
sides, and it burned to ashes in front of our door. No hope, no
help for property ; what we could not carry in our hands we must
lose. So, forcing my reluctant parrot into the canary bird's cage,
I took the cage under one arm and a little bag, hurriedly pre-#
pared, under the other, just as my sister appeared with E  ,
who, thank God, was calm and self-possessed. At last the good
friend who had warned us appeared, and, leaving all his own
things, insisted on helping my sister to save ours, and he and she
started on, dragging a Saratoga trunk. They were obliged to
abandon it at the second corner, however, and walk on, leaving
me to follow with E  . " Come, E  , let us go," said I.
"Go where . I am not going. What is the use? " he answered,
and he stood with his arms folded as if he were interested merely
as a curious spectator. I urged, I begged, I cried, I went on my
knees. lie would not stir, but proposed going back into the
house. This I prevented by entreaties, and I besought him to fly
as others were doing; but no. A kind of apathetic despair had
seized bim. and ho stood like a rock while the flames swept nearer
and nearer, and my entreaties, and even my appeals to him to
save tne, were utterly- in vain. Hotter and hotter grew the pave
ment, wilder the cries of the crowd, and my silk and cotton cloth
ing began to smoke in spots. I felt beside myself, and, seizing

IN CHICAGO AND THE -WEST. 247
E  , tried to drag him away. Alas ! what could my woman's
strength do? There followed another shout, a wild push back, a
falling wall, and I was half a block away and E  was gone.
"0 God, pity those poor worms of the dust, and crush them not
utterly ! " was my prayer.
How I passed the rest of that cruel Sunday night I scarcely
know. Wandering, staring, blindly carrying along my poor par
rot, who was too tired to make a sound, I seemed to be in a
dream. Starting north to get help, running back as near to the
flame as I could in the vain hope of finding E  ,- bitterly re
proaching myself that I had ever left him, an instant, I passed
three hours of which I can hardly give any account. I know that
as I turned wildly back once toward Dearborn street, I saw the
beautiful Episcopal Church of St. James in flames. But they
came on all sides, licking the piarble buttresses one by one, and
leaving charred or blackened masses where there had been white
marble before. But the most wonderful sight of all was the
white, shining church tower, from which, as I looked, burst
tongues of fire, and which burnt as though all dross of earth were
indeed to be purified away from God's house forever. As the
tower came crashing down, the bells with one accord pealed forth
that grand old German hymn, "All good souls praise the Lord."
I almost seemed to hear them, and to see a shadowy Nicholas
striking the startled metal for the last time with his brave old
hands. "If this is right, if it can be right, make me think so,"
groaned my soul, and the souls of many weeping women that
night, as they fled homeless and lost through that Pandemonium
of flame and tumult.
Constantly faces that I knew flashed across me, but they were
always in a dream, all blackened and discolored, and with an ex
pression that I never saw before. " Why, C  , is this you ? "
some frightened voice would exclaim, and a kind hand would
touch my disordered hair, from which the hat had long since

248 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
fallen off, and some one, only a little less distracted, would whisper
hopefully a word about E  ; that he might not be lost, that
the actual presence of flame would arouse him, and so on ; and I
loved them for saying so, and tried to believe them. Very little
selfishness and no violence did I see there. Neighbors stopped
to recognize neighbors, and many a word was exchanged which
brought comfort to despairing hearts. "Have you seen my wife
and children?" would be asked, and the answer given: "Yes,
they are safe at Lake View by this time." " Won't you look out
for my baby ? " (or Willie or Johnny, as the case might be). Out
would come tablets or papers, or names or inquiries would be -
noted down, even by the man who was making almost superhu
man efforts to save a few goods from his burning house. Some
friend — it was days before I knew who — took my parrot and
forced a little bottle of tea and a bag of crackers into my hand as
I wandered, and I was enough myself to give it to a friend, whom
I found almost fainting with heat and fatigue, and who declared
that nectar and ambrosia never tasted better. At last I found
myself opposite Unity Church. Dear Unity ! will her little circle
of devoted ones ever come together again, and worship some
times, and work for the poor sometimes, and sing and play in her
beautiful under-parlors sometimes, and love each other always?
I know not, but I know that I wept and beat my hands together,
and raged hopelessly, when I saw that the beautiful homes on
the west side of Dearborn street were gone, and the Ogden Pub
lic School was one bright blaze, while the graceful and noble
Congregational Church, next to Mr. Collyer's Church, had
caught fire. Nothing could save our pride and joy — our darling
for which we had made such efforts in money and labor two short
years ago, that the fame of Chicago munificence rang anew on our
account through the civilized world.
I was grieving enough, Heaven knows, over my private woes;
but I awoke to new miseries when I saw our pastor's great heart

SCENE AT THE JUNCTION OF THE CHICAGO RIVER.— THE FLAMES COS

rNICATE WITH TOE SHTPriNG AND DESTROT THE GRAIN ELEVATORS.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 251
which had sustained the fainting spirits of so many, freely give
way to lamentations and tears as his precious library, the slow
accumulation of twenty laborious and economical years, fell and
flamed into nothingness in that awful fire. I turned away heart
sick, and resumed my miserable search after the face which I now
felt almost sure I should never see again. A new sight soon
struck my eye. What in the world was that dark, lurid, purplish
ball that hung before me, constantly changing its appearance,
like some fiendish face making grimaces at our misery ? I looked.
and looked, and turned away, and looked again, iilay I never
see the sun, the cheerful daily herald of iC'omfort and peace, look
like that again ! It looked devilish, and I pincljed myself to see
if I was not losing my senses. . It did not seem ten minutes since
I had seen the little, almost crescent moon, look out cold, quiet,
and pitiless, through a rift in the smoke-cloud, from the deep blue
of the sky.
Two dear children, whom I had taught peacefully on Friday
in our cheerful school-room on Chicago avenue, met me, crying,
" Oh ! have you seen mother ? We have lost her." This appeal
brought me to myself. . I felt that I had something else to do
than wander and grieve ; so I persuaded the lost lambs to go
with me to a friend on La Salle street, where 1 felt sure we should
find help and comfort, and which everybody supposed would be
safe. Indeed, a very curious and rather absurd feature of this
calamity was that nobody thought his house would burn till he
saw it blazing, and also felt perfectly sure that this- was the last
of it, and that ho and his family would be safe a little further
up ; so the North-siders never began to pack up till the fire
crossed the river, and then the lower ones moved about to Erie
street, six squares from the river, then stopped. Then they were
driven by the flames another half-dozen streets, losing generally
half of what they saved the first time; then to Division street,
then to Lincobi Park, where heaps and heaps, of.ashes are all that
15

252 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
remain to-day of thousands of dollars' worth of eatables and
furniture. Exhausted and almost fainting, weeping and sorely distressed,
I finally landed in a friendly house, far up on La Salle street.
As I stepped inside the door E  appeared, quiet, composed,
and almost indifferent. Burnt? Oh, no ; he was all right. Did
1 suppose he was fool enough to stay and be burned ? There was
D  , too, if I wanted to see her, in the parlor. Did I feel rev
erently thankful? Ask yourself. C  .
We recall Byron's lines in Childe Harold, although the situa
tion is inverted :—
" Oh ! who could guess if ever more should meet those mutual eyes,
Since upon night so sweet such awful mom could rise ! "
The night here was " awful " and the morn " sweet."
We give another leaf from personal experiences of painful in
terest. The narrator was a lodger in the St. James Hotel, and
says : —
I was awakened about three a. m. by some one pounding upon
my door, and after springing from my bed, discovered that the
whole city was in flames. I hastily put on my clothing, and going
into the corridor I saw a crowd of men, women, and children clus
tered about the door. Returning to my room, I gathered my
goods quickly into boxes, and carried them down to the sidewalk.'
Hearing a shout, I seized a satchel and a small trunk, and rushed
out. As I reached the door, I saw some men coolly loading my
boxes into a wagon. I called to them, but they laughed and
drove away. The street was full of people with bundles of every
description on their backs. I pushed at once for the West End.
Neither Michigtm nor Wabash avenues were then on fire, and I
rushed down the former. The hot air almost burned my face.
The smoke was stifling me, and my clothes were covered with
ashes and cinders. As I passed along the avenue, -^ looked up

TN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 253
each street to the west to see where the fire headed me off in that
direction. 1 had the fire behind me on the north, and the Lake
was on my left. My object was to try and get to the west side
of the .ity, near Union Park, where I knew a gentleman named
Mason. The Lake was on my left, the city on fire behind me,
and as I passed along Wabash avenue I could see the fire raging
furiously on West street, at the head of Lake, Randolph,
Madison, Monroe, Congress, Adams, Jackson, and Van Buren
streets, and away to the south as far as Fourteenth street. Here
for the first time I saw a clear passage to the west. When I
reached this point I was utterly wearied outj and I sat on my
trnnk in the street. In a few moments I saw a man pass by,
and I asked him to give me a hand with my trunk. He said he
would, and we walked up Fourteenth street. After going a short
distance I saw that I could not carry the trunk any further, and
I told the man who was assisting me that I must give-out. He
urged me on, and after going about a block I saw a man stand
ing at his own door, looking in the direction of the fire. I told
him that I had been burned out, and that I was so wearied I could
carry my trunk no further. I asked him for permission to put
it in his yard until I should be able to convey it to a safe place.
He gladly consented, and between us we took the trunk into the
yard. He and I then returned in the direction of the town. In
the mean time the fire had reached the great business quarter,
and most of the streets from South Water street to the river
were in flames. After waiting until the progress of the fire was •
arrested, I made my way across Twelfth street bridge, which was
then the only one standing on the south, to Union Park, on the
western side of the city. Here I found my friend's house, and
was joyfully and hospitably received. I was so wearied out that
I remained there asleep all day on Monday. Such a gale never
raged before as that which blew from the southwest in Chicago
during the night of Sunday and the morning of Monday.

254 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
The only fragment of literature saved from the immense stock
of the Western News Company was this
Cl'RIoUS MEMORIAL.
A single leaf of a quarto Bible, charred around the edges. It
contained the first chapter of the Lamentations of Jeremiah,
which opens with the following words : — "How doth the city sit
solitary that was full of people ! how is she become as a widow I
she that was great among the nations, and princess among the
provinces, how is she become tributary! She weepeth sore in the'
nigiit. and her tears are on her cheeks : among all her lovers she
hath none to comfort her." It was a singular circumstance, that
Rev. Mr. Walker, of Connecticut, upon hearing of the catastrophe
at Chicago, preached from this text, not knowing that this was all
that remained of the store in which his son was a clerk. There
was only a general correspondence in the actual experience of our
city to that of the city bewailed by the prophet, for we were not
solitary nor widowed, neither did we become tributary. There
was sore weeping, but our lovers did rise up and comfort us with
solid comfort. The relic hunters were extremely busy, and some
of them coined money by the sale of their commodities to
strangers and citizens who wished to retain some small remem
brance of lite powerful heat that melted everything in its pro
gress. Glass two inches thick fell before it in streams. A
gentleman, found, in the ruins a lot of dolls melted and run
together. Ite called them fire-proof babies. In a store fur
nished with paints, oils, and glass, the specimens were elegant.
Glass, in masses, was tinted with brilliant colors of every hue.
So great a variety of curiosities was never found unless in old
Pompeii, where the ashes preserved objects in a more perfect
fate. It seemed sad to see the merchant princes succeeded by
"lo boys, whoso stands were upon the corners where the
test business transactions occurred, or the most elegant

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 255
goods had been displayed. It gives an air of romance to many
spots, to remember that here and there men struggled for life, in
the dark hours, and surrendered to the foe. Take, for instance,
a scene like this which is vividly sketched by the Tribune : —
While Madison street west of Dearborn, and the west side of
Dearborn, were all ablaze, the spectators saw the lurid light ap
pear in the rear windows of Speed's Block. Presently a man who
had apparently taken time to dress himself leisurely appeared on
the extension built up to the second story of two of the stores.
He coolly looked down the thirty 'feet between him and the ground,
while the excited crowd first cried? jninp Fi$ahd then some of them
more considerately looked for ay^derlmA. long plank waV pres
ently found and answered the same as aoadder, and it was placed
at once against the building, down which the man soon after slid.
But while these preparations were going on there suddenly ap
peared another man at a fourth-story window of the building be
low, which had no projection, but was flush from the top to the
ground — four stories and a basement. His escape by the stair
way was evidently cut off, and he looked despairingly down the
fifty feet between him and the ground. The crowd grew almost
frantic at the sight, for it was only a choice of deaths before him
— by fire or by being crushed to death by the fall. Senseless
cries of "jump ! jump ! " went up from the crowd — senseless, but full
of sympathy, for the sight was absolutely agonizing. Then for a
minute or two he disappeared, perhaps even less, but it seemed
so long a time that the supposition was that he had fallen, suffo
cated with the smoke and heat. But no, he appears again. Firet
he throws out a bed ; then some bedclothes, apparently ; why,
probably even he does not know. Again he looks down the dead,
sheer wall of fifty feet below him. He hesitates — and well he may
— as he turns again and looks behind him. Then he mounts to
the window-silh His whole form appears naked to the shirt, and
his white limbs gleam against the dark wall in the bright light ae

250 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
he swings himself below the window. Somehow — how, none can
tell — he drops and catches upon the top of the window below him
of the third stm-v. He looks and drops again, and seizes the frame
with his hands, and his gleaming body once more straightens and
hangs prone downward, and then drops instanth- and accurately
upon the window-sill of the third story. A shout, more of joy
than applause, goes up from the breathless crowd, and those who
had turned away their heads, not bearing to look upon him as he
seemed about to drop to sudden and certain death, glanced up at
him once more with a ray of hope at this daring and skilful feat.
Into this window he crept to look, probably for a 3tairway, but
appeared again presently, for here only was the only avenue of
escape, desperate and hopeless as it was. Once more he dropped
his body, hanging by his hands. The crowd screamed, and waved
to him to swing himself over the projection from which the other
man had just been rescued. He tried to do this, and vibrated
like a pendulum from side to side, but could not reach far enough
to throw himself upon the roof. Then he hung by one hand, and
looked down ; raising the other hand, he took a fresh hold, and
swung from side to side once more to reach the roof. In vain ;
again he hung motionless by one hand, and slowly turned his
head over his shoulder and gazed into the abyss below him. Then
gathering himself up he let go his hold, and for a second a gleam
of white shot down full forty feet, to the foundation of the base
ment. Of course it killed him. He was taken to a drug store
near by, and died in ten minutes.
But by far the sttddest case here was that of a beautiful and re
fined woman, known in art and operatic circles, whose husband
is missing, and who escaped herself in only a night wrapper; was
driven to di.-i ruction by the terrors of the wild flight, and was
picked up in Lincoln Park in a state of more than half insanity.
In the direst need of care from her own sex, ready to die almost
from extreme exhaustion,, and wandering in mind most of the

TN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 257
time, she had had last night only the nursing and help which two
men could give, and now lay on a pallet upon the church floor,
directly behind the rear pew on one side. A young woman cared
for her during the day, but at night female imagination lent par
tial insanity too great terrors, and care which should have fallen
to womanly sympathy, devolved on the rude, though kind and
skilled hands of men. The man whose brave and clear head
gave him chief charge had had experience in a hospital; but it
was pitiful that womanly protection should not be at hand, and
that the couch of such a sufferer jHonliOiot. be tenderly spread ,
under a private roof, Unhappily,^he^^fret length of burnt
Chicago intervened between all thraelnfferers^bn the North Side,
and that part of the city where suitable care , could have been
Becured for them. .«-. -*C . ',-¦. .
The most disastrous event in the horrible whole seemed, for a
time, to be the destruction of the books of record in the Court-
House ; but it is found, on examination, that the loss is by no
means irreparable. Many of the essential books are safe, though in
one case — that of Messrs. Shortall & Hoard — the rescue was a mar
vellous achievement. This firm was located in Rooms 1, 9, and 10
Larmon Block, northeast corner of Washington and Clark streets.
The following account of the way in which the books were
extricated was taken verbatim from Mr. John G-. Shortall, senior
member of the firm, by a Tribune reporter : —
I had just come home from church, and had been sitting in my
bouse, No. S52 Prairie avenue, and was going to bed. I looked
out of my north window and noticed a very bright light in the
sky. I had been, from some unaccountable cause, quite appre
hensive in regard to fire for some time previous; and, on noticing
the light, determined to go to the fire, although it was not in the
direction of my office.
I met a friend on the cars who was also going to the fire, and
we crossed Twelfth street bridge, and got up to the side of the

258 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
fire on Canal street, and followed it up from block to block to
Adams street. We then got on Van Buren street bridge, and
watched the progress of the flames for probably an hour and a
half. I then bad no idea that the flre would cross the river, and
I argued with myself several times whether I had not better go
home, but kept on staying watching the fire; and, while standing
on Van Buren street bridge, I noticed a new body of flame— I
should think there was an intervening space of fully half a mile'
untouched by fire. This new fire broke out, as it seemed to me
then, in the vicinity of South Water street and Fifth avenue.
When I saw this new light, I started for my ofiice in Larmon
Block immediately7.
On reaching the office I found, as I apprehended, great danger
existing from the awnings, which were outside the building, the
embers dropping down very thickly on the roofs of the buildings,
and on the fronts, and signs, and awnings. I ran upstairs, got into
tho office and tried to cut away the awnings in front of our build-
ing and that of the building adjoining ; but, owing to the absence
of anything adequate, I had to give that up, and simply press
them close to the wall, that the embers might drop off them, and
not be caught in them. Even then I scarcely believed it possible
that the Larmon Block could take fire, and I requested the men
in the upper portion of the building with buckets of water, to put
out titiv embers that might fall there and endanger the building.
In another half hour I felt more apprehensive, and went on the
street to find an express wagon. This must have been an hour
and a half before the building actually burned. I stopped
probably fifteen different trucks and express wagons, offering
them any pay to work for me in saving the books. Seven of
them tit le;i>r I engaged, one after another, they faithfully promis
ing me that they would come back when they had carried the load
and done the work iu which they were engaged; but no one came
back. At this juncture I met a friend, Mr. Nye, who was look-

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 259
ing out, as I was, for the danger. I told him I needed him, and
he answered me promptly that he was at my service. We both
watched some time longer for express wagons, but could find
none. At last, when the Court-House cupola took fire I told my
friend that we must have an express wagon within the next five
minutes or we were utterly lost. He stood on Clark street and I
on Washington, determined to take the first expressman we-conld
find. The first one happened to come along on his side. He
seized the reins with one hand, and taking a revolver from his
pocket with the other, "pereuaded''tthe:!Oxpressman,Ttb haul up
to the sidewalk, notwithstanding his jCureing! tand ''swearing.
When I came back from my unsuccessful watcD., I found the ex
pressman there, and my friend, handing the lines and revolver to
me, wei-t upstairs to help our employes, who were then in the
office, to carry down the volumes. We got round with the wag
on to the Washington street entrance, and, after filling the wagon,
found that we had but. about one-quarter of our property in it.
Just at that critical moment I saw a two-horse truck drive up to
where I was superintending the packing of the books, and my
friend Joe Stockton, whose face was so covered with smut and
dust that I did not recognize him until he spoke, turned over the
truck and driver to me, with the remark: " I think, John, this is
just what you need." I never felt so relieved or so thankful for
anything as I did at his appearance with that substantial aid at
that moment. We unpacked our impressed expressman immedi
ately and set him adrift with $5 in his pocket for his five min
utes' work, and commenced to pile our property on friend Stock
ton's truck. Meanwhile the flames were roaring and surging
around us. Six of our boys were carrying down the volumes as
rapidly as they could, and I, standing on the truck, was stowing
away the books economically as to space. About that time they
told ine the Court-House bell fell down.
It must have been about two o'clock. I never heard the bell fall,

260 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
I was so excited. Toward the last, when we had got our indices
all down safel v, and we were trying to save other valuable papers
and books, many of which we did save, it was stated that Smith
& Nixon's Building was about to be blown up. Our truck was
headed toward that building. The sky was filled with burning
embers, which were falling around us thickly. As soon, I think,
as the information was given that that building was to be blown
up, the crowd rushed past us down Washington street, toward
the Lake, terribly excited, shouting and warning everybody
away. My driver was very nervous, and, on one pretext or
another, would start his horses up for a rod or so, swearing that
he would not be blown up for us or for the whole country ; but I
succeeded in stopping him eight or ten times during the excite
ment. In the mean time, our men were coining down the stairs
laden with our property and returning as rapidly as they could.
I was standing on the books, packing them in the truck, and the
embers were flying on them, and I picked them off as they fell
and threw them into the street, until, a rod at a time, we reached
the corner of Dearborn and Washington. Messrs. Fuller and
Handy were the last to leave the office, and they did not leave
until Buck & Rayner's drug store was on fire. The store, as
wo believed, was full of chemicals and explosive matter. At that
time the Court-House was a mass of flames, and our own build
ing was burning, and other buildings in the immediate vicinity
entirely destroyed. Three of us then started with the truck for
my house, which we reached about three o'clock that morning. I
had our property unloaded and placed securely within ; and, after
giving the driver and others some refreshments, I started again
for the fire to see what aid I could give other sufferers.
There tire three abstract firms who have saved portions of their
books. Our own firm and Chase Brothers & Co. have saved
their indices, digests of records, judgment dockets, and tax-sale
records complete, together with many valuable memoranda, and

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 261
probably 130,000 pages of copies of abstracts and examinations
of titles, wliich are sufficient, we believe, with the aid of proper
legislation, to establish the title to every tract of land in the city
of Chicago and Cook County. Messrs. Jones & Sellers, I am
informed, have saved their books of original entries, but have lost
their indices. They have also, I understand, saved many volumes
of copies of abstracts made. All these valuable documents, in
the absence of the records themselves, are a firm security for titles
to real estate in the city and county, and are sufficient to pre
vent any iniquity being done. .Without them we should have to
return to the tomahawk, pre-omptionnandj)os6ession. 4 ... .^{j?/, ?
1 ;.(<$!•, •**$_' _-V«T<4f.Tr I ¦",'«' ;; ;W.M- V '
THE POST-OFFICE OAT. . , .- ,.
..-.. ._;i,.i..fc.;_'..m?t^ *«*.,T,ve,« ,,>:f$P ./
A sketch of the doings of the Post-office in connection with
the fire would not be complete without a notice of the office cat.
She (or he) had been once before burned out, and was therefore,
in a measure, prepared for this calamity. On the night of the
fire the cat was present and assisted in the removal, though she
did not go herself. When the work of removing the safes was
in progress, the tearing away of a portion of the ruin revealed
the faithful public servant in a pail partially filled with water. She
had rented this as temporary quarters, and apparently enjoyed
the cool shelter which it afibrded. From her position it appeared
impossible that she could have gone away and returned after the
fire, and so she may be set down as the only living being who
passed Sunday night and Monday in the burnt district.
A little before two o'clock on Monday morning, when the fire
was raging, G. W. Wood, Assistant Superintendent of Railway
Mail Service and Special Agent of the Postroftice Department,
arrived at the Post-office, convinced that the building would go.
He was, of course, aware of the responsibilities which he would
incur in removing ^anything from the office; but chose to disre
gard the requirements of red tape in the interests of the citizens

2.J2 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
who would suffer by the loss of their letters. When remonstrated
with by a gentleman connected with the customs, he defined his
position by saying that they might wait for an act of Congress if
they chose, but he should do his best to save what he could. On
this declaration of principles he proceeded to load everything
portable into wagons belonging to the department. The force
of men was large, tho transportation ample, and the direction
vigorous, the result being that every letter, both registered and
common, in all the boxes and compartments of the office waP
hastily dumped into sacks and removed out of reach of the fire.
All the mails in the building were rescued, with the single excep
tion of a small one which came over the Fort Wayne road, and
which, owing to the fact that it was four hours late, no one knew
anything of. The registers and other matters belonging to the
office, including the furniture in one of the private rooms, were
also loaded in the wagons, and the whole .was taken uptown.
Some of it had to be moved a second time, its first station having
been on Harrison street; but everything eventually brought up
in safety. On the evening of Monday, Mr. Wood telegraphed to
Postmaster-General Creswell what had been done, and on Tues
day wa.- instructed by that officer to spare no expense to carry on
the mail service as well as before.
The work of getting out the safes belonging to the office from
the ruins was undertaken a day or two after the fire had passed
over, and the result was, in the main, satisfactory. , There were
some s.!i0.iH.M) worth of postage-stamps on hand, and these were
rendered useless. Though not totally destroyed, they were so
badly charred :^ to render their use impossible. They were for
warded to Washington immediately. The most valuable contents
of the safes— -the books of accounts — were found uninjured and
in perfect order. The only exception was the cash-book, which,
through some inadvertence, was left in a desk.
A. gentleman savs of the suffering: —

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 263
" I have just made a personal inspection of the conaition of North
Chicago. I entered by the northernmost of the bridges on the
North Branch, in order to see first what was left. On my way to
this bridge I came upon a young man, in the open lot, sitting on
the ground by the side of a box of bread. Inquiring if he had
gone into business as a baker, I found that he had been to some
freight cars near by to procure some supplies, that his box con
tained meat and apples as well as bread, and that he was resting
on account of feebleness produced by exposure after the terrible
exhaustion of Monday. I shouldered his box and went with him
just over the bridge to the temporary refuge' which he had found.
Besides himself there were his wife, three young children, and
a widowed aunt with eight children, the eldest a girl. > He had
had a good situation as a clerk in one of our leading dry-goods
houses in State street, and, with his aunt, owned four small
honses, the rent of two of which was the sole dependence of the
widow and her eight children. The fire took all they had, except
the clothes in which they escaped, and about fifty dollars in
money, which the young clerk had just invested in boards to
build a shanty on their lots in which to house the double family
of thirteen. The chance of obtaining employment for the man
seemed fair. He slept out on the prairie the night after the fire,
and was nearly helpless the next day from fatigue and severe
chills. Probably great numbers laid that night the foundation
of ague or consumption. The Sunday night had been very warm,
and Monday, until toward midnight, was so mild as to make sit
ting out not qnite uncomfortable for a well person. But a sharp
change occurred about midnight, rain came, with violent and
very chilly winds, under which even the robust suffered severely.
Those who had some covering found the wind too much for them,
and many lacked even the chance to shield their wearied bodies
from the blast, and their little ones from the chill unfriendliness
of the dropping skies. The rain was not drenching, nor was the

or;4 HISTORY OF the GREAT fires
wind near to freezing, bnt both were just at the point which
makes excessive discomfort to the hardy, and to the enfeebled is
the touch of distant but certain death."
A ladv from St. Louis found in her rounds of mercy a mother
and her daughter under a sidewalk. The latter had been confined
there and her babe was in such distress that the little creature's
eyes protruded upon its cheeks. They were instantly provided
for but the little one could not survive the shock. The world
into which it came was too hot just then, and not the "cold
world " of poetry and despair.
I am told by the physicians here that as many as five hundred
cases of premature birth have been reported, and the many help
less mothers who gave birth to children along the Lake can be
numbered by scores. I can only weep as I hear this terrible tale.
One told me last night is almost too much for human heart to
bear. The daughter-in-law of a clergyman here gave birth to a
child in the flight along the shore, and was separated from the
family, and neither mother nor child have been found. Another
—a lad}- in the Sherman House — was carried out in the arms of
her hnsband, the new-born babe clasped to her breast, and both
died in the father's arms before reaching a place of safety. The
poor man, crazed with grief, was last seen along the shore of the
Lake, with his dead across his shoulder. Again, I heard of a fine-
looking woman in a night-dress being seen wandering along the
Lake shore with twin babes, all of whom have died without
recognition, and been buried by the city. These are but a few
among the many awful horrors of that night.
FEARFUL ADVENTURES.
A graphic writer, not wholly reliable, however, says he had been
watching the fire for hours, till at length it began to approach his
boardin^.'-hi. use >>n the avenue, when he became seriously alarmed
for the inmates, many of whom were helpless women, and among

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST 265
them Rosa D'Erina, the Irish prima donna, who had just conclud
ed a series of entertainments.
I had previous to this made no efforts to save my effects, and i'
was now- too late, as I found the balcony of the house (a wooden
one) on fire when I got down. The women were panic-stricken,
and seemed utterly incapable of action, but we succeeded, amid
great difficulty, in rescuing them from danger, and, along with
them, we wended our way towards the Lake shore. But my feel
ings were so much excited I could not remain long in any one
place, and I again went citywards. I walked along Adams street,
which had up to that time escaped, and found the Academy of
Design, situated corner of Adams and Dearborn streets, still un
touched. The Palmer House, on State street, a little lower
down, also stood, and for a moment a feeling of hope sprang up
in my breast that something might be spared even then. But
this was a short-lived feeling. The Honore Block, in process of
erection by the fatherdn-law of Potter Palmer, caught, and now
the Post-office, which had acted as a barrier against the progress
of the flames eastward, was in imminent danger, and the district
around seemed abandoned to destruction. The utmost exertions
were made to save the mails, papers, and valuable contents of the
office, and in a great measure, I believe, they were successful.
Finally the Post-office caught ; but being a very solid and sub
stantia] structure, it withstood the fire longer than any other
wliich I had seen. Its interior was completely gutted, but the
walls remain, and on Tuesday they served me as a guide through
the ruins. Familiar as I was with the city, I could not otherwise
have found my way. No chance now remained for the Academy
of Design, and we mournfully watched the rapidity with which
the fatal element was surely encircling it. It was filled with val
uable paintings, among others Rothermel's great picture of " The
Battle of Gettysburg," which had been on exhibition for some
weeks past. I heard the picture was taken out in safety, but it

266 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
was considerably damaged, and the largest portion of the remain
ing painting* had to be abandoned to the fire. The building was
iii.* tire-proc.f and. being built with more regard to display than
ulilitv, was qmVkiy and effectually consumed. The walls toppled
over witli the heat, and fell with an awful crash, and it is feared
manr perished in the ruins who had recklessly ventured too near.
There were a large number of valuable stores in this district, and
they with their contents were completely destroyed. I had a
narrow escape for my life just then, and even now I can scarcely
realize how great the risk was. I had, in my eagerness, gone too
near the Honore Block, when a falling timber struck me on the
forehead and felled me to the ground. I was completely stunned
for a moment, but the love of life was strong, and I struggled up,
minus a hat, a loss which I soon replaced, as there were hundreds
of them flying through the streets minus heads. I picked one np
which made my appearance more picturesque than flattering.
The east side of State street, towards the bridge, was now in
fitimes, and the block of buildings north of Field, Leiter & Co.'s
extensive wholesale store (the largest in the West) was being
rapidly consumed. The employes of the house, some five hun
dred in number, had been busily engaged all the night in re
moving the most valuable portion of the goods to a place of safety;
but the heat had become so intense that they beat a retreat and
abandoned the immense stock to its fate. The building itself be
longed to Potter Palmer, and was the finest business house in the
city. It could not be valued at less than a million and a half of
dollars, only part of wliich was covered by insurance. It caught
in the roof, and in an instant was enveloped in flames. Gunpow
der had previously been placed in the basement, but the fire was
long in reaching it. At length a terrific explosion apprised the
spectators that the end had come. The fragments were scattered
around for blocks, wounding and maiming many persons, and
shaking the foundations of the solid earth on which we stood.

A FAMILY TERRIBLY PERISH ON THE ROOF OK * B

3CSE, IN

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEBT. 260
When I opened my eyes again (which I had closed on account of
the flying sparks) all I could perceive was a smoking heap of
ruins. Immediately adjoining Field & Leiter's stood the book
sellers' block of Chicago, in which the largest book trade in the
West was transacted. It remained intact at six o'clock, when
everything around it had been burned ; but the fire, which
by this time had made its way east to Wabash avenue, ignited
it in the rear, and it burned up like tinder, the stock, of course,
being perfectly inflammable. Tho loss must have been immense,
as, the book trade being unusually active, a tremendous stock was
on hand. Previous to this the water-works had been burned, and
the city was now without light or water. fThe water-works were,
in the opinion of the Chicago people, the finest in the world ; but
whether this be so or not, they were magnificent structures of
their class, fitted up with all the modern improvements, and in
perfect working order. When they burned, the Fire Department,
which had never rendered much service, practically ceased to
exist, and seven of the engines were abandoned to the fire.
The panorama was now awfully grand and magnificent, and
presented a most imposing spectacle* to those who had coolness
enough left to appreciate the vividness of the scene. On every
side, far as the eye could reach, the forking flames were shooting
up, jumping entire blocks with the rapidity of lightning, filling
the air with burning timbers, seizing fragments and inflammable
material of every kind. The crash of falling buildings would at
swift intervals drown all other sounds, and almost blind the spec
tators with dense masses of smoke, causing for a moment a dark
ness that could be felt. The entire northeast part of the city
had now been consumed as far as the river, and the interest be
came concentrated in the southern part, towards which the fire
was cleaving its resistless way. It was daydight, but you could
not distinguish the difference between day and night, as the
streets presented the same appearance, and the atmosphere and
16

270 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
heavens looked as they had done for hours previous-. Lower
State street, south of Jackson, was one vivid blaze, the ruined
structures belching forth whole columns of fire and smoke, and in
the midst I perceived the Palmer House still standing.
I was astonished t-bat it had held out so long. From its great
height one would imagine that it would be one of the structures
most liable to go, but it stood longer than others supposed to be
completely fireproof. Its entire contents had been saved, and
Mr. Palmer remained in the building to the last. I was told by
a gentleman that Mr. Palmer's wife, who was waiting outside the
building for her husband, had been struck in the building'with
a. blazing fragment and severely burned. I did not see this my
self, but I have no doubt of its veracity, as occurrences like this
were innumerable. When the hotel finally caught, it rapidly
burned up, and communicated the flames to St. Paul's Hniversal-
ist Church, situated on Wabash avenue, which in its turn carried
them further on. Adjoining the hotel were a great number of
saloons and some of the most disreputable bagnios in the city, and
when the dwellings caught it was horrifying to see the rascally
proprietors selling liquor in the front part of their premises, and
the rear <>n fire. Many of them met the fate they so richly deserved,
the buildings falling on them before they could manage to escape.
The burning district was now abandoned by all who valued their
lives, ,-md all who could reach the Lake shore, where they hoped
to be safe. Subsequent events will prove how futile were their
hopes. But I am anticipating the order of my narrative. Wabash
avenue, adjoining the Palmer House, was principally built of
marble blocks, which were used for the better class of boarding-
houses. Just above, whore the private residences commcuced, was
located the Farwell Block, occupied by Farwell, Hamlin vfc Hale,
and other proiuincnt merchants. It bad been destroyed about a
year ago, in the great fire ; but had been rebuilt at an enormous

IN CHICAGO .LSD THE WEST- 271
cost, and made more magnificent than it had been at any previous
period. I thought it might have been saved, but it was not to
be; it seemed as if all that was valuable, costly, and noble must
be sacrificed to the relentless and conquering element, which was
" monarch of all it surveyed." I did not witness the burning of
this block, but I was told that it burned up with a rapidity that
was perfectly terrific. On the opposite side the boarding-houses
commenced, and in one of them, No. 159, a lady was burned to
death before she could be rescued. • The cross streets intersecting
those running north and south were everywhere igniting, and I
saw that everything was going to be swept' clean to the Lake.
I had by this time found the ladies of our party, and" a few of us
set towork to erect a kind of breastwork as a protection against the
blazing fragments, which were falling thickly around. The scene
on the Lake shore was awful in the extreme. Hundreds and thou
sands of people had carried what effects they had saved down there,
in the hope of safety ; but the last hopes they entertained were gone
when they perceived Michigan avenue, the last street east facing
the Lake, ablaze in several places. The terror and agony became
intense ; women were wildly screaming ; young girls, with di
shevelled hair and apparel all awry, could with difficulty be pre
vented from throwing themselves into the Lake. Children were
seeking lost parents, and parents lost children ; wives their
husbands, and husbands their wives. Strong men fainted with
the agony of despair ; while high above all could be heard the
brutal cries of wretches, who, maddened with strong drink,
which was flowing like water, seemed bent on rapine and
pillage in the midst of the universal dismay. I think history
has never recorded a scene so full of all the elements of ter
ror and dismay ; for my part, the remembrance of it shall haunt
me as long as I live. The breakwater became crowded with
fugitives, and the trains of cars which were being taken from
the Great Central depot must have caused numerous accidents.

272 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
Many had got along the edge of the Lake and immersed them
selves in the water up to their waists, in the frenzy of the mo
ment : and even here they were not for a moment safe. My
position was immediately opposite Adams street, to which the fire
had not vet come. On the corner opposite stood the magnificent
residence of Mr. Honorc, the father-in-law of Potter Palmer.
Tho next building was a Swedenborgian church, one of the
strongest stone edifices I ever saw. So strong was it that I was
certain the flames could not penetrate it. They did, however,
and now our danger was great, as the fire was directly opposite to
where we stood. We made all the precautions possible to save
our lives, a.3 we knew when the fire should pass a given point we
would be comparatively safe. We confiscated two large carpets
which we found on the ground, and immersing them in water,
placed them on the tops of chairs, and got the five women of our
party under them. We had not a moment to lose, as the fragments
from the church and Mr. Honore's house were rapidly coming in
our direction. The heat was so intense that the carpets imme
diately dried up, but we had pails, and as fast as they dried we
wet them again from the Lake. I had, on leaving my residence
the night before, put on ray overcoat, and I was congratulating
myself all the time on my forethought; but even this had to go,
as it took lire on my person, and I had to be baptized over again,
adopting the plan of total immersion, for I jumped into the Lake.
My companion's pants were on fire in several places, and he had
to do likewise, so we were both in at the same time. We got out
again, I minus my coat and he with his pants in a tattered con
dition. The heat was terrific; my face was literally scorched,
ami my eyes I thought would melt out of my head, but I was
mercifully preserved, and I weathered the storm until the fire
passed. When the smoke had cleared a little I looked north,
and what attracted my attention first was tho Pullman building,
which had just caught fire. It burned to the ground in thirty

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 273
minutes, and the great Central Depot, one of the ornaments of
the city, adjoining Pullman's, was soon a living flame. It was
occupied by the Illinois Central, Michigan Central, and Chicago,
Burlington & Quincy Railroads, and was the head-quarters of the
former and latter companies. Just beside were the two large
elevators, in which were stored millions of bushels of grain ; and
taken as it was, all in all, it was one of the most valuable
parts of the city. The depot burned up, and along with it hun
dreds of cars of every description ; but the elevators remained
standing entire when the depot had been utterly consumed.
I believed them, as did every one else, to be safe; but a new
and unperceived danger soon attracted our attention and con
vinced us that we had been too premature in our suppositions.
There was a large quantity of shipping anchored at the mouth
of the Lake, waiting to be laden with grain from the elevators.
No one thought of these, as it was supposed they had made their
escape out; but it was not so, and the tall masts catching fire
from the sparks, communicated with the nearest elevator and
set it instantly ablaze. It made a terrific fire, a.i.. burned
the entire day; but, strange to say, its companion, just beside,
escaped uninjured, and is preserved, with its immense stock of
grain. The fire companies from other towns were beginning to arrive,
but owing to the scarcity of water they could accomplish but
little. In one district they did good service, however, as they
had a supply of water from the river, and, owing to their exer
tions, the fire did not spread to the West Side. All the stores of
goods which were piled up on the banks of the Lake had become
ignited, and the entire ground was one sheet of fire; yet, in the
midst of all, fiends in the shape of men were pursuing their hellish
trade. Whiskey barrels, which had been rolled down, were buret
open, and men, and even women eagerly drank the fire in liquid
form.

274 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
Free fights were, iu numerous instances, indulged in, and the
ruffians, rolling over each other, were burned and trampled to
death. We had succeeded (after paying a fabulous price for an
express wagon) iu removing our women from the scene, and they
made their escape to the southern part of the city, where they
were for the time being safe. I remained, as I was determined
to see the last of the spectacle, and I made my way, along with
a printer on the Evening Journal, to the West Side. The task
was one of no ordinary difficulty and danger, as walls were every
where falling, and the ground was strewn with burning embers.
We found the bridges gone, and could not tell how we were to
cross the river until we met an attache of the Journal, who told
us we could cross at Madison street, a portion of the bridge still
standing. I was surprised to find the Pittsburg and Fort Wayne
depot still unburnt, when the stronger built ones had perished ;
but the fire on Saturday night had cleaned a space around it, and
this, probably, accounted for its preservation. On reaching
Canal street, we found that the Evening Journal had, with com
mendable enterprise, secured the Interior Printing House, and
had already commenced to get up an extra, which they issued
the same evening. My companion was called upon to work, and
I was now left alone, and I went on towards the Galena depot
of the Chicago and Northwestern Railroad, which I could not
find, it having been long before consumed. The freight houses
attached to it had also been destroyed, so that wherever I went
nothing but ruin, complete and awful, met my gaze. The fire
seemed to have spent itself on the South Side, and as the North
Side then seemed safe, I thought I would go and endeavor to
find a place of refuge, which I did far down Indiana avenue. I
was so blinded with the smoke and scorched with the flames that
the two ladies of the house could not recognize me, and it was
with difficulty I gained admittance. I could find no water; so I
took a couple of pails and started for the Lake, which was more

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 275
than a mile away. I could scarcely drag my legs after me; but
I managed to get back, and, as it was now pretty late, I retired to
bed, but not to sleep. The heavens were more lurid than they
had been the night before, and I was at a loss to imagine the
reason of this, little dreaming that the whole North Side was being,
rapidly consumed. I rose early and went north, ancl I shall never
forget the sights I witnessed on that terrible Tuesday. When
Twelfth street bridge was reached, the roads leading out of the
city were perfectly blocked with people, hurrying away, while
vehicles of eveiy shape and description were engaged in carrying
their effects. Many fires were still blazing, and around Madison
and Washington streets immense coal heaps were burning, the
heat from which was very acceptable, as the morning was bitterly
cold. Crowds were gathered reading LMATTOl.,
the firet which had been issued, and a universal gloom seemed to
have settled on all faces.
We interrupt the story here to give this document, a full ac
count of its origin being furnished in the next division of this
work. Strange as it may appear, and the fact illustrates the
completeness of the ruin, it was not for hours that a press could
be found on which to print the proclamation.
The following proclamation was issued, and gave confidence : —
" Whereas, in the Providence of God, to. whose will we hum
bly submit, a terrible calamity has befallen our city, which de
mands of us our best efforts for the preservation of order and the
relief of the suffering,
" Be it known that the faith and credit of the city of Chicago
is hereby pledged for the necessary expenses for the relief of the
suffering. Public order will be preserved. The Police, and
Special Police now being appointed, will be responsible for the
maintenance of the peace and the protection of property. All

27G HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
officers and men of the Fire Department and Health Department
will act as Special Policemen withont further notice. The Mayor
and Comptroller will give vouchers for all supplies furnished by
the different Relief Committees. The head-quarters of the City
Government will be at the Congregational Church, corner of
West Washington and Ann streets. All persons are warned
against any acts tending to endanger property. All persons
caught in any depredation will be immediately arrested.
" With the help of God, order and peace and private property
shall be preserved. The City Government and committees of
citizens pledge themselves to the community to protect them,
and prepare the way for a restoration of public and private
welfare. "It is believed the fire has spent its force, and all will soon
be well. " R. B. Mason, Mayor.
George Taylor, Comptroller.
(By R. B. Mason.)
Charles C. P. Holden,
President Common Council.
T. B. Brown,
President Board of Police.
" Chicago, October 0, 1871."
We allow our reporter to continue his sad tale : —
The ground was so hot as to be almost unfit to walk upon, and
in passing over it I thought of the torture of olden days, when
wretches were forced to walk on heated metals as an ordeal for
their real or fancied crimes. Dead bodies were being everywhere
picked up. In one group I saw as many as thirty-eight corpses
which had been gathered together for interment. I went over
the ruins of my former abode, on Wabash avenue, and, while
doing so, stumbled over something which I at first supposed to
be a charred timber, but a nearer investigation proved it, to my

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 277
horror, to be a dead body. The head, arms, and legs were gone ;
nothing remained but the trunk. Who it was, whether one of
the inmates or a stranger, I could not learn ; but it was there, and
I felt a sickening sensation creep over me I could not control.
The Mayor bad issued another proclamation directing the
closing of the saloons, but no attention was paid to it ; the police
made no endeavor to enforce it, and in nine cases out of ten were
themselves intoxicated. Even had they been closed, there was
plenty of whiskey left ; barrels of it were to be found in all
quarters, and they certainly were freely broached. I never saw
so many under the influence of drink, . and where the roughs
came from I cannot imagine. Full as Chicago was with them, I
had never believed she contained so many as I saw on the streets
on Tuesday. Many had come in from other cities ; every train
was bringing its contingent, and many began to look anxiously
for the military, as it was feared the ruffians would complete the
destruction by setting fire to what remained. All the available
citizens were enrolled as special constables and invested with ex
traordinary authority, and they did all that n!en could do to sub
due the disorderly element ; but it was beyond their power to do
so effectually, and outrages and rapine were hourly on the in
crease. As the day wore on the exodus from the city increased,
the railroads furnishing free accommodation. All who had
friends outside were leaving in hundreds, and long trains were
leaving in rapid succession, carrying their loads of living freight
to all points. As the lines had been burned up near the scene of
the fire, passengers for the East and West had to go out to
Twenty-second street to get their trains, and the rush and jam
around these places was something terrific. I went to the tem
porary depot of the Michigan Southern and saw the afternoon
train leave. The most pitiable sights were to be witnessed among
the heart-broken refugees. I saw one woman, who had lost her
child in the fire, seized (just before the train left) with strong

278 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
convulsions, so severe that a medical man present said it was im
possible for her to live. She was carried to the nearest dwelling,
but T did not succeed in ascertaining her subsequent fate.
This was no isolated instance. Scenes like this were so numer
ous, that after a time they ceased to cause any surprise. The
train, which consisted of seventeen coaches, slowly steamed away,
and in the annals of travelling a more sorrow-stricken multitude
was never carried by a company.
Thus abruptly breaking off from this narrator, we introduce
our readers to one of the professors in the Academy of Design,
Mr. Alvah Bradish, who writes the following letter concerning
this institution and its recent destruction : —
To the Editor of the Chicago Tribune:
Sir: Among the more recent and cherished institutions of
Chicago that fell a victim to the late fire, none will be more
missed than the Academy of Design. The artists of Chicago
had been organized for several years, and were steadily advancing
the cause of fine att. Within the year they had planned, and
seen growing up under their fostering care, a most beautiful
edifice, almost wholly devoted to art purposes. It was situated
on Adams street, between State and Dearborn, near by the Palmer
House, and three blocks south of the Crosby Opera House. The
academy building had been constructed especially to meet the
wants of tho artists. It comprised eighteen studios, all of which
had been engaged before the building was finished. It was, in
deed, a beautiful home for the arts, and for those who were making
art a profession. Tho gallery was spacious. For fine proportion,
for a true elevation and clear light, it was not surpassed in this
country. The lecture room was ample, and the handsomest in the
city ; the reception room and studios, tho stair-cases, approaches,
school-rooms, were all fitted up in a style of elegance that speedily
won the popular favor. The Academy had been thus founded by

EN CHICAGO AND 'THE WEST. 279
an enlightened body of artists, who were animated by the true
ambition of adding the glory of art-culture to the other distinctions
of the Garden City. These artists are mostly men of reading and
culture. They foresaw the three essential conditions of a perma
nent and beneficent institution of fine art — an Academy of De
sign founded on principles that would insure growth, durability,
and popular favor ; schools, life and antique, for the thorough dis
cipline of students ; a gallery, open at all times for the display of
the best works, pictures, and statuary ; and lectures, both special
and general. No academy can stand long without the full recog
nition of these three conditions ; and they had been ' abundantly
discussed, recognized, and established- .During the past twelve
months — the brief existence of their beautiful home — the artists
had given numerous public receptions, and had varied their col
lection of pictures. They had offered to the public many rare
works of the best modern masters, both American and European.
Already the Academy had become the centre of art-attraction and
art-culture in Chicago. Her schools, conducted by competent
professors, had attracted a large number of pupils. Applications
from the country and from the city were numerous for the coming
winter. A centralized home had united the artists. They were
working in good faith. Members of Council had, with unselfish
enthusiasm, devoted a large portion of their time and thoughts to
a wise administration of their trust. The younger members were
making rapid progress in their studies, and felt the influence of a
generous competition and the example of such rare works as the
gallery contained, always open to their inspection. Already the
Academy owned some good pictures ; some < thers had been gen
erously given. The Seammon collection of antiques was the gift
of a gentleman of taste — an example that would soon have been
followed by others. An art library was in contemplation. The
artists were proud of their success. I can declare that no insti
tution iu Chicago had so speedily won such general favor. Its

280 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FERES
influence on public taste, and on the life, labor, and future of the
artists was so manifest and so admirable, that it was universally
recognized and acknowledged.
Mr. Rothermel's great picture, the Battle of Gettysburg,
ordered bv the State of Pennsylvania, had been on exhibition for
two mouths. It was an immense canvas, sixteen feet by thirty-
three, and was drawing crowds of admirers to the gallery. The
attendance had been on the increase for two weeks past, when,
on the Saturday previous to the destruction of a great part of the
city, the visitors numbered one thousand. The coming winter
would have witnessed one of the rarest exhibitions ever seen west
of New York. Many pictures had arrived. The schools, thor
oughly organized, would have been full ; special lectures would
have been enlarged and continued ; and the course on the theory
and history of the fine arts, first opened at the inauguration of the
Academy, would have been given during the season. The leading
artists were preparing pictures for the coming reception in No
vember. It should be observed that Mr. Potter Palmer was
putting up an edifice next to the Academy, with an iron front, of
an elegant design, to be constructed especially for art purposes,
studios, music rooms, etc. Most of these had been already taken.
The struggle which the artists had thus made in the noble cause
of art in Chicago would be crowned with success; for this new
building would be opened through to the halls of the Academy
proper, — thus concentrating the entire art interest and artistic
genius of Chicago on Adams street. At this time there were a
great many valuable works of art in the gallery and scattered
through the studios — Drury's large and precious collection;
Ford's beautiful Ohio wood scenes; Delhi's careful studies and
designs ; Jenks' conscientious labors ; Elkin's world of Rocky
Mountain studies; Bradish's popular "Leather Stocking," his
full-length portrait of the late Douglass Houghton, and numerous
smaller works ; Pine's attractive group of children ; James

OI CHICAGO AND ITIE WE8T. 281
Gookin's charming " Fairy Wedding," a gift to tho Academy.
Cogswell's studio contained some of his best portraits, Reed -Sc
Son's studio was crowded with pictures and studies. Pebble's
studio contained numerous works of high promise. Other young
artists, or students, occupied rooms and pursued their studies in
the building; so that, with these hundreds of pictures and out
door studies, the Academy was emphatically the centre of art-
interest and the cherished home of the artists.
¦:• On that memorable morning, the ninth of October, that wit
nessed the most dreadful conflagration of modern times, some of
the artists were at the Academy by one o'clock. The great fire
had only reached Clark street at two o'clock. The artists were
not yet alarmed. At three o'clock the fire had advanced greatly
northward on La Salle and Clark streets; the wind was sweep
ing through the streets, and carrying the fierce element towards
the Chamber of Commerce and the Court-House. By four
o'clock the great Pacific Hotel and the Rock Island Railroad
" depot were enveloped in flames. Would the new Bigelow
Hotel and the Honore' Block be saved? The artists, gathering
on Adams street, waited in painful suspense. Would the wind,
now more terrific and pitiless than ever, lull for a moment, or
would it veer a degree north, and thus save all this portion of the
city ? These thoughts flashed through our brains or quivered on
our lips. Soon the Pacific Hotel — a magnificent structure, and
nearly finished — was in ashes. The forked flames, made irresistible
by the hurricane of wind, had struck the Bigelow Block, standing
on Dearborn street, and wrapped it in a red winding sheet in a
moment. The atmosphere was filled with brands, cinders, com
bustibles, all on fire, careering through the air. The splendid
Honore Block was seized by the devouring element, the un
finished roof furnishing the ready kindling, and these two stately
blocks — the pride and ornament of a new street — faced with new
marble, five or six stories high, were all enveloped in a few mo-

282 niSTORY OF THE great fires
ments; were penetrated and swept by the fire fiend. Though
we knew that on Adams and Quincy, Monroe and Madison
streets, west, to the river, the finest structures had sunk before
the blast of fire, we still clung to some hope. But the wind was
on the increase, if possible. The writer stood for an hour close
by, and witnessed the approach of the awful tornado, advancing
rapidly and with irresistible strides north, but with less violence
east, and at times hesitating to cross a broad street or strike a
new victim. But what power could resist this hurricane of fire
that came, as it were, in isolated sheets of flame through the
air ? The interior of these two noble structures were like appal
ling volcanoes that swallowed, from moment to moment, heavy
timbers, walls, columns, as they fell inward. It was a sublime
sight. Before this awful conflagration, in which already some of
the most beautiful and costly structures of the city had melted
like soft metal, the artists stood helpless in their anguish, but still
hoping, praying, that they and their cherished home might be
spared. A slight change in the wind would do this, for as yet
not a building east of Dearborn street had been touched. The
Academy was still safe; the eastern walls of the two noble
blocks, though all luminous with interior fires, were still stand
ing. Especially the Honore Block, with its colonnade of white
marble still firm, seemed to offer a solid bulwark to defend the
more eastern portion of this part of the city. So intense was the
heat of these edifices, all on fire from the pavement to their roofs,
that the artists and groups that pressed forward toward Dearborn
street to witness the sublime spectacle were obliged suddenly to
retire and cover their faces. The south end of the Honore Block,
struck and torn by the blast, would give way. It bent, swayed,
and surged for a moment, and finally twisting round, as it were,
by the insatiable embrace, toppled over, stayed a second, then fell,
with three upper columnar stories, carrying roof and cornice,
crushing over into Adams street, shaking the earth for. many rods

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 2S3
about. Then shot up from the wreck a column of flame, through
black smoke and cinders, that lit up the Palmer Hotel and threw
a ghastly light on the fagade of the Academy. In half an hour
these volcanic fires had perceptibly decreased, and the artists
were greatly encouraged.
But soon the Bigelow Block became the centre of tragic in
terest ; for here the fires, sweeping over from the Pacific Hotel,
now in hopeless ruin, seizing every intervening building and
every combustible object in its way, had acquired a vehemence
and violence most appalling. Now seemed the moment of great
est danger ; for the Bigelow was directly west of our block. Be
tween us was one brick five-story building ; the others were low
wooden tenements. They were like ovens, but covered by a hose
in the hands of two colored men, who, with unsurpassed heroism,
stood their ground. For a long time, by moistening the sides
and roofs of these two buildings, the fires were kept at bay.
They might burst into flame at any moment I Now the lofty
walls of the Bigelow Hotel were all aglow with the fire inside,
that seemed to crackle and roar with a triumphant sound as
everything was devoured ; the windows and archways belching
forth tongues of red and white flame that reached nearly across
Dearborn street. But, even up to this moment, when we saw
the walls of the Bigelow and Honore Blocks still standing firm,
though greatly shattered, the artists took courage. These walls,
that had risen like a dream of beauty under the eye of their archi
tect, who stood now in our midst, seemed to offer a solid bulwark
to the advancing enemy. Indeed, there was almost a shout of
gladness heard from the group of artists that gathered in front of
these torn and shattered battlements. There was a moment —
one short moment — of congratulation and joy. It was five o'clock
— not quite daylight. The wild ocean of fire had gone far off
northeast. The awful destruction, the ruin, the dreadful havoc
that followed that fierce march, cannot be told. We did not

2S4 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
dream of its extent ; we might hope some beneficent power would
arrest its progress. We could hear the crackling of flames, the
hurricane that scourged every street — that sent the fierce fiend
through whole blocks ; we could hear the distant roar, overpower
ing like an ocean-symphony, all near sounds. This sublime roar
went moaning, like a storm at sea, through all the beautiful struc
tures on Washington and the dense blocks north to the river.
Who shall describe the swift horror that suddenly overwhelmed
all those beautiful homes on the North Side? Happily, at that
moment, we could not know of the dreadful scourge that wall;
passing two miles north of us.
In the mean time, by six o'clock, in the face of so imminent a
danger, the artists had taken measures to save such pictures as
could be reached. All the smaller pictures in the gallery had
been cut or torn from their stretchers. Some of the artists were
too fiir away to be present. Some, living on the West Side, were
cut off by the intervening fire. Up to half-past six, even, there
was hope for us ; but, before seven, some of the artists had gone
several blocks south on State street, to make observations. The fires
were advancing directly across Dearborn, along Jackson — the
wind unchanged, and blowing with all its untamed violence, and
rolling an ocean of fire over wliole blocks of wooden dwellings,
devouring everything it touched. No human power could save
now the blocks south to Van Buren street, and we had become
directly in range of this new danger ; for no abatement could be
seen, but, if anything, more fierce, more insatiable, this hated
tornado carried whole roofs, planks, windows, all on fire, directly
over the intervening tenements. And the Palmer House stood in
range of this fiery storm, and the Academy but twenty feet from
its walls, and overtopped by its stately Mansard roof. What pen
shall depict the scene that appeared to our view? Every street
and alley crowded with crazed, helpless fugitives; Adams and
State, Quincy and Jackson, Van Buren and Wabash, one living,

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IN CHICAGO AND THE WES1. 287
moving, screaming mass ; helpless families ; decrepit old age ;
infants on pillows in the streets ; sidewalks crcwcea with furni
ture, chests, glasses, bedding, horses, wagons— aU in confusion,
without order, without kindness to neighbor, and aone to direct
or advise, but all fleeing from the brands and cinders that filled
the atmosphere ; rushing from block to block, weighed down by
household goods ; driven from house to house, till they reached
the Lake shore beyond Michigan avenue, where hundreds of
loads had been left or thrown on the sands. A few hours after
this everything along the water's edge' here was on fire,— the
' poor, desperate owners escaping only with their lives. • . ;
• The artists had stood bravely by their beautiful temple, ready
to aid if, by any chance, hope could come through any efforts or
sacrifice of theirs. Up to this hour when the flames crossed
Dearborn street, the Palmer House and the group of buildings
near by could be saved ; but when word was brought that State
street was threatened south of us, all hope was abandoned, and
the artists were obliged to look for personal safety. In the mean
time, long before this hour — by seven o'clock — Mr. Reed, our Sec
retary, bad given orders to have Rothermel's great battle-piece
taken from its stretcher and saved from the approaching flames.
There was ample time for this, though, in taking it down, it has
suffered serious injury. Its great weight requirea several men to
carry it out, and, in a bent, broken condition, it was taken to the
steps of Trinity Church, Jackson street, and afterward to the uni
versity building, four miles south. Its subsequent fortunes for two
weeks, to the time it was delivered to the distinguished artist who
had designed it, may be given to the pubhc by Mr. P. F. Reed,
in whose charge it was. The Academy had a policy on it of
$30,000. Such of the other pictures as were not carried by hand
were placed on carriages and wagons. These were tied together,
and, under the guidance of one of the artists, were moved by hand,
by slow degrees, through the dense crowd, through Adams street

283 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FTEES
and Michigan avenue, often blocked and arrested by opposing
teams, and the suffering, crazed fugitives, but from time to time
making progress, until, after infinite difficulty, the precious loads
reached Harmon court, out of danger. By eight o'clock the wide
area from Harrison street south, and Dearborn street west to the
LJ.ce, was all threatened with destruction which a few hours after
witnessed. The writer of this, as he saw the five or six vehicles
loaded with their precious freight of pictures, frames, books,
trunks, and boxes belonging to artists and others, did not feel too
sure they could make their way through such a confused mass Oi
human beings in a state of indescribable excitement and frenzy.
When the cortege passed the superb block known as Terrace
row, facing the Lake, little did he think that, within two hours,
all those beautiful homes would be levelled to the earth. Here
lived Governor Bross, Mr. Griggs, Mr. Scammon, and other gen
tlemen of wealth and culture. The block was much admired for
its stately grandeur. The next day its location could hardly be
identified, — a shapeless mass of undistinguishable, smoking ruins.
It might be nine o'clock, and the Palmer House was still untouch
ed. An imposing edifice, surrounded by an ocean of fire, its
lofty three-storied Mansard roof, with five stories beneath it, rose
supreme over all other buildings near by. But, soon after this
hour, from pavement to roof it was one sheet of flame. Its walls
swayed and trembled as the wind roared against its projecting
portico, its windows and doorways belching forth to the north
long spikes of red flame, forked, like ten thousand serpents,, reach
ing out and lapping the walls of the Academy building as in hor
rid derision. The hotel thus covered with a sheet of flame, — its
interior all red and dazzling with inextinguishable fires, — the
walls of the Academy, only a few feet off, were heated, and the
lower windows and doorways penetrated by an element as irresis^
tible as fate. Was there any hope now left for the academy ?
Soon through its broken windows, down through its noble ex-

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 289
panse of skylight, came the whirlwind of flames and murky ele
ments, down-crushed timbers and walls, staircases, pictures, casts,
— all the precious works that filled the studios of absent artists,
— now all on fire, and adding intensity and grandeur to the
whirling volcano of the interior, — a blackened burned mass of
art ruins for one moment, then shot up a sharp, dazzling spire of
red flame, far into the impending smoke-cloud that rolled like a
pall over the expiring structure, as though to proclaim a savage
triumph over the fond hopes and labors of genius.
• Thus perished the Chicago Academy 'of Design.
From this letter it may be seen how widely the blow smote;
and yet, even farther than many think, were these tidings like
deep wounds piercing. In the studio of one of our Chicago artists
in Rome, we sat and heard the future of the Academy discussed
with enthusiasm. Mr. Leonard W. Volk, who stands pre-eminent
in sculpture, and was President of the Academy, and had pur
chased several valuable works for its use, has been cut to the heart
by this loss. Far from home, and among a foreign people, this
great sculptor has wept over the disaster which has come upon
his own fortunes, and upon the career of his cherished insti
tution. A gentleman who had been presented with an expensive
watch, went abroad a few months since, and left this valued gift
in his safe, in a fire-proof building. Doubtless he wishes he had
even exposed it to all the dangers of a foreign tour, now that it
has been so thoroughly destroyed. One who has given his life
to the examination of shell-fish, and had collected the materials
of a scientific work on conchology of special value, and expected
an appropriation from Government for the publication of his re
searches, has not a scratch of the pen nor the minutest shell left
out of the conflagration. Such losses can never be replaced. In
a great city, where everything was done by the representatives of
all nations, there is an almost infinite variety of loss, from the toy

200 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
all along up to the Medical College with its collections cf a quar
tet of a century of existence.
"The lamentable tragedy at the Historical Society building is
the darkest episode of this day. The people in the vicinity of
this edifice, confident of its strength, gathered their most valued
possessions and crowded the cellars in assurance of perfect safety.
Among them were citizens of note, the venerable Col. Stone and
wife, Mr. and Mrs. Able and two daughters, Mr. and Mrs. Car
penter, Dr. Leai and family, with several others not so well
known. While the frightened group were moving a trunk, the
librarian caught sight of a flame, and shcuting to the rest, rushed
from the fatal place. The others, at least twenty in number,
were not seen to emerge, and there is nc doubt that they per
ished, as the building was soon tottering in utter wreck. The
original copy of the Lincoln Emancipation Proclamation per
ished among the most cherished memorials of this Society.
" Death came to the crowds in the open air as well as in the
buildings. A great following of ruffians, emboldened by the
absence of the police and half maddened with liquor, assaulted
several saloons on the verge of the fire, and held the ground
against the advancing fiame. When the moment of need came
they were too drunk to get away. In this portion the fire came
on with such incredible rapidity, that mothers threw their chil
dren down from the windows and then leaped down after them.
Throughout the dav and night every foot of advance was a com-
plete surprise. In Chicago avenue, a noble thoroughfare one
hundred feet wide, the people were confident of escape, and took
little or no precaution. Here, as on Wabash avenue, when the
fire did come, panic aided the devastation. Thoughtless women
oiled mattrasses and fragile goods in the street, and the dropping
sparks took but an instant to make the avenue a glowing pathway
of fire. The side streets were built wholly of wood, and the thin
walls burned like shavings. This region, over by the Lake and

IN CHICAGO AND THE WE81. 291
the great Lincoln Park, seemed to offer safety. So a great rush
was made foi the park, and the refugees made themselves com
fortable in the delusion of security. After ravaging tc the limits
of the city, with the wind dead against it, the fire caught the
dried grasses, ran along the fences, and in a moment covered in a
burning glory the Catholic Cemetery and the grassy stretches of
the great park. The marbles over the graves cracked and baked,
and fell in glowing embers on the hot turf. Flames shot up from
the reeting-places of the dead ; and the living fugitives, screaming
with horror, made for a moment the ghastliest spectacle that ever
fell upon living eyes. The receiving vaultj' solidly built and
shrouded in foliage, fell under the terrific flame, and the dead
burst from their coffins as the fire tore through the walls of the
frightful charnel-house. In the broad Hght of to-day the place is
the most ghastly I ever saw, not even Cold Harbor exceeding it
in awful suggestiveness. Above the graves charred stones stand
grim sentinels of the dead, no more memorials of anything but
disaster. Every inscription has disappeared, and even the dead
are robbed by the flames. The park turned into a wilderness of
fire, the crowds doubled backward and made for the avenues
leading westward and to the south, to reach which they must
cross the river. Many of the bridges were in flames — the rest
were already choked with the heavy wagons which, tearing the
way through, cruelly aggravated the distress of the thousands ot
foot-sore women and weary men. Fully 30,000 people were
afoot in this quarter, and this mass densely wedged into barri
caded streets between trampling horses, kept up a ceaseless
stream far into the night. With the night new volumes of flame
shot out on the air, and new crowds were hurled among the
flying masses. There was no hope of saving the city : the
struggle was simply for life. Half-clad women fled moaning
through the streets, and at this time, it is asserted, robberies were
perpetrated in some of the remote private residences. A vast

292 HISTORY OF THE great fires
throng reached the prairie; and sunk exhausted on the ground ;
the air was filled with a torrid heat, and even at this great dis
tance immense particles of cinders fell in showers. The dread
ful ao-ony of separated families came to add its horrors to the
calamity. Babies were found alone in the multitude, and count
less little people crept about crying wildly for their parents. A
blessed rain came down slowly, and the fire, stayed in its ad
vance, rolled backward and flamed up with greater fierceness in
the immense coal piles in the very centre of the town. Then a.
new agony came upon the people. The only untouched portion
of the town was brilliantly illuminated, and for a time it seemed.
as though not a roof was to be left in the great city.
" The first victims were the poorer* classes, and as they were
driven from their burning homes they hurried with the goods they
had been able to save (or to steal) to the eastern and southern parts
of the city, as if with an instinct that the fire must fall back be
fore the stone and brick palaces of the rich. Thus the lower end
of Wabash avenue became choked with the debris of disaster-
and flight. Cursing men, shrieking women, and terrified horses
stumbled over the streets and sidewalks, pursued by the tempest
of flame and the scorching blast of heat which swept on from
the centre of the city. For one awful moment the whirlwind
rushed through the beautiful avenue ; but, happily, at Congress
street its ravages were stayed. How shall any one forget that
extraordinary scene, where the horrible and the ludicrous, the-
mournful and the grotesque, mingled like the visions of a night
mare ? Ladie3 half-clad, but loaded with heavy burdens, rushed
madly from those luxurious houses, and joined the hideous
throug of the struggling poor, inextricably entangled with wagons
and horses, and trampled by thieves and outcasts. Some had
just put on all their finery to save it. Many were almost naked.
Not a few carried infants nursing at the breast, and a great many
were hugging lap-dogs. Tipsy men, fantastically clad, made-

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 293
ribald jokes upon the fugitives. Families who had been lucky
enough to get trucks to cart away their valuables and bric-a-brac,
sat disheartened on top of the load. Parties interrupted in the
midst of a carouse ran madly about, too drunk to know what it
all means. All the while the motley throng pushed frantically
southward. The weak were thrown down by the press and trod
den under foot. For hours and hours the panic hegira continued,
pushing out towards the prairie. From Monday morning at day
light the fear was for life, not for property. In this dire extremity
the greed of man added to the horror of,the scene. Drivers of
carts and carriages crowded over from the divisions of the city
presumed to be safe, and demanded outrageous rates for . the
slightest services. Tet it is to be said to the credit of human na
ture that hundreds of honest men turned out heartily to aid their
more unfortunate neighbors. In all the horror of this southward
pressure there was a continual stream of curious people from the
distant regions crowding eagerly forward to see the vast illumi
nation. The counter-currents, as they met, caused frightful mis
haps and confusion. Men and women, maddened by the red ter
ror behind, fought ferociously for a pathway to safety. Near each
church vast masses were assembled with a sort of assurance of
safety in those sacred precincts. Presently rumor came that it
had been resolved to fight fire with fire. Laird Collier's church
was to be blown up, and the dense crowd in the vicinity broke
frantically for a new refuge.
" Late in the morning the people of the North Division were
involved within the sudden horror of fire and death. A great
crowd had assembled at one of. the avenues leading to the burn
ing region, where the close approach of the fire moved the
bridgemen to turn the draw. The move was of not the slightest
avail. The fire lapped the slender wood-work in the vicinity,
leaped lightly from bank to bank, and before the bewildered
people could make a movement toward safety they were help

¦294 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
lesRly environed by raging walls of fire, the Lake rolled lazily be
yond them, and with one impulse the great crowd made for its
shelter, and buried themselves in sand and water. This scene
was simultaneous with the Wabash avenue stampede."
In illustration of (he excitement that robbed some of their
senses, and made them do the thing they did not care to do, and
leave undone what they ought to have done, we mention the case
of a lady who gathered her silver into a basket to place it in her
husband's safe, as they could scarcely bear it away with them
without danger of losing it. When she came to the moment of
depositing the valuables, she took instead of the silver a pin
cushion, worth half a dollar, placed it carefully inside, closed the
safe, and ran out of the house. The safe preserved everything it
contained, and the lady now possesses her pin-cushion as a relic of
the Great Fire. Truly it must be considered a costly reminder
of the agony and fright of that dreadful morning.
We have heard of people becoming so upset in such a moment
as to throw mirrors out of the window and carry cook-stoves down
stairs with particular care. In such heat it was difficult to keep
cool. Men entered their stores in the rear, and before they could
open their safes they were driven out of the front door by the
pursuing flames. It became then a race for life, and sometimes
the fire proved too swift for the unfortunate fugitives. Horses
grew frantic, and refused to move until a blanket or robe was
wrapped about their heads to hide the fearful glare.
A mother, escaping with her babe clasped to her bosom, sud
denly plunged from the darkened staircase into the blaze of the
approaching fire. Her darling, terrified and shocked"by the quick
flood of light, and partaking the mother's alarm, made one quiver
ing motion and died in her arms. This was worse than loss of
home. What a burden did that mother bear through the horrors
of that conflagration !
A business man, who had seen his buildings and machinery sink

IN CHICAGO AND THE WE8T 295
into asues, and a prosperous Dusiness disappear in an hour, was
summoned a few weeks afterwards to bury a new-born babe. 'J3.e
was a strong man, to whom tears were strangers But when he
communicated the sad news to his pastoi, he exclaimed in the
midst of sobs and weeping, " Oh, this is our first great sorrow.
The loss of property is nothing; but our little one is gone, and I
feel so sorry for my poor wife."
A business man, watching by the couch of his dying wife, knew
that his books and papers were all burning ; but he stirred, not
from her side, and ere the embers were cold amidst the ruins of
his marble store, he saw the remains of his companion lowered
into the grave. Everything seemed to combine to crush him, but
he bore up like a Christian hero. ,, • ;
A clerk of the Court, who must be a man of kind heart, since a
merciful man is merciful to his beast, put his cats in a bag, and
tied a string around the neck of his dog, and thus laden sought
safety in swift flight. Another clerk of the Court, having put all
things in order for removal, was about to leave his house, when
his little rat-and-tan dog sprang from his perch and clasped his
legs around the neck of his master, and there clung like a child,
and thus was saved. He too perceived the danger, and loved his
life too well to be sacrificed without a struggle. Doubtless dumb
animals felt the horrors of that wofnl night as well as human
beings. As an instance of the sagacity of the dog, so often observed and
justly celebrated, a gentleman fleeing before the flood of fire ran
down a street across which the flames were already pouring in
torrents, when his faithful dog began to bark and jump up upon
him, and hinder his advance in the fatal direction. The master
at length perceived the animal's purpose, and stopped to take a
view of the course before him, when he was able to discern the
danger of further progress, and turned in time to escape by
another way. In a bank vault under one of the great buildings

296 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
that fell before the blast of heat, a mouse was discovered safe and
lively, without the smell of fire on it. This relic may hope to
become one of the "lions."
The President of the Illinois Central Railroad, arriving early
upon the scene, found that he could not reach his family on the
North Side bv the bridges, and, after arranging for the safety of
freight-cars, books, papers, and other property, he employed a tug
to convey him down the river, out into the Lake, and so along the
shore till he could gain a landing, and thus access to his wife and
children. But the fearful smoke and heat made the attempt a
failure, and he returned bewildered and almost crazed by anxiety
and the horrors of the time. He put every machinery in motion
for the purpose of ascertaining the fate of those dear to him, and
on Tuesday, at four in the afternoon, he learned that they were all
safely housed in Evanston. How many happy meetings like this
occurred within that mournful week of the fire !
A gentleman, living near the comer of La Salle and Madison,
started early at the commencement of the fire to relieve his
brother-in-law, near whose home it began. At midnight he has
tened back, fearing the progress of the devastating element, to
provide means of escape for his own househoid. When he ar
rived wit-bin two blocks of his late dwelling, all was gone in
smoke and fiame. They had been in the very central line of fire,
and now where were his wife and four children? Scouring Madi
son street, he at last discovered his wife seated on her trunk in a
doorway, and disconsolate as ever woman was. His joy upon
seeing her was swept away by the information that the children
had gone north by La Salle, while she went east down Madison.
The eldest, a girl of eighteen, had taken in charge the three boys
and two trunks full of clothing, and sought escape or protection
with a friend at the mouth of the tunnel leading to the North
Side. Leaving his wife in a place of supposed safety, tho anxious
father engaged a man to go round the blocks where they might be

TN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 297
expected to have fled for refuge, while he also sought for them
where he hoped they might be. He was compelled to return,
baffled and disappointed. Removing his wife and the trunk still
further, he stayed and fought the fire till the water-supply failed,
and then they joined the procession marching along the avenue
southward- out of the range of the fire, now rising again into
uncontrollable fury. The crowd seemed orderly, solemn, and
composed. Ladies of wealth and position were blackened by
Boot and dust, many of them dragged trunks by their handker
chiefs fastened into the handles, or carried bundles or boxes. All
were intent on saving their lives and something besides from the
general wreck and ruin. ,: y .
The purpose of those whose fortunes we are describing was to
gain the West Side by way of Twelfth street bridge, and then to
seek a refuge with old friends. There they Jioped to meet the
children if they were yet alive. Twelve mortal hours elapsed
before this worthy couple rested under the hospitable roof of
their friends on Park avenue. Their children were not there.
Their hopes were dashed, and whither to turn they knew not.
The father, almost frantic, returned to the scene of desolation,
hurried from place to place, made inquiries of all his friends, and
got no tidings of his lost ones. At night he turned homewards
with a heavy heart. But upon reaching the threshold, there
were the gleaming faces of his loved children. Two hours after
he left the house of his friends they had appeared, bag and bag
gage. Their story was one of romantic interest. When the
alarm of approaching peril roused them, the women wakened the
other members of the family. With great difficulty they got
their colored servant sufficiently wide awake to realize the situa
tion. They at once resolved to save their best clothing, a'nd the
boys were dressed up in their Sunday best. They loaded them
selves down with whatever apparel they couid get on their per
sons. The mother wore away several skirts, and both were ar-

298 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
rayed .in their finest silks. They also filled three trunks, and
throwing their beds over the piano to save it from water in case
the engines should deluge the house, they bade adieu to their
home. The mother took one direction and the children the other,
in hopes that between the two routes one would prove to be safe.
They did not then apprehend the magnitude of the danger, nor
conceive that the gigantic blocks could be melted by the flood
that was sweeping across the city, driven by the hurricane. The
young lady bethought herself >f the sewing-machine, and found
two men willing to aid her in its removal. Back she went with
her uoble helpers. One of these had a wooden arm, which he
lost without knowing it at the time, in aiding her to save the
machine. Driven from the refuge she had hoped to be secure,
tit the mouth of the tunnel, she found a milk-wagon, and got her
self and the boys and their rescued property conveyed to the
North Side. The driver proposed to stop at his residence, be
lieving it to be out of danger. But the young woman said no,
and induced him to convey them still further. When he finally
returned to his home, after they had been disposed of, he saw only
its smoking embers. So fast had the demon wrought!
Supposing themselves secure in their distant retreat, they be
gan to think of father and mother. Soon, however, the tidings
came that their refuge was threatened, and they were about to
load up for a retreat still further north, when the heroine be
thought herself of her West Side friends, and hiring a dray, she
packed the goods upon it, and for ten dollars she and the children
and property were conveyed to their asylum, which they reached
some time in the afternoon. And at night the family were re
united, glad and thankful, even though they were homeless and
almost like beggars, upon the verge of winter.
A white-haired Scotch lady, who was taken from the fiery
furnace, and barely saved, said that her father's picture, an
oil painting, and her mother's Bible, were consumed, and her

IN CHICAGO AND THF WEST. 299
eyes became moist and her voice choked, as she added, " These
are the things that trouble me most." Choice mementoes of
those dear to her heart, never to be replaced, were more precious
than jewels and velvets. Oh, the diabolical energy of this fiend,
which spared nothing sacred, nothing cherished, and smote,
with human bodies, the idols of the heart, and reduced to ashes
fondest memorials of the past! Bridal gifts presented to
those who were about to become brides, and nuptial offer
ings half a century old, were all melted and dissolved without
mercy. And some who had expected .'• to approach tho
altar in gorgeous array, stood up in calicbj* and were adorned
with paper flowers. Doubtless they^ were "as 'happy in these
simple fixings as if they had been peers of Solomon in all his
glory. Tet some courage was necessary on the part of those who
plighted their faith and took upon them the yoke of matrimony
amidst the ruin of their fortunes and prospects. And common
sacrifices and struggles will knit them into closer and tenderer
fellowship. Among the peculiar losses by this fire were heir-looms long
held in families as sacred treasures, and never to be restored.
Their value was inestimable to those who had them in charge.
A man of gray hairs, describing to his pastor the events of
that fearful morning when they were hurried out to escape
personal injury, said that they seized in their haste things
least valuable, and left other articles that money could not buy
or replace. " There was my father's picture, the only one owned
by any of the family relations. It was forgotten and lost." As
he uttered these words his voice faltered, and he broke down in
tears. A German musician of splendid abilities, who had lately come
from his fatherland with his wife and five children, was driven to
the prairie, where they lay out two nights exposed to the autumn
blasts and dews without protection. His loss of personal effects

300

HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES

was almost entire, and beggary stared him in the face; but kind
friends sought him out and relieved their necessities with abun
dant supplies. There was one thing no hand of mercy and
charity could return. He had brought with him a violin three
hundred years old, for which Ole Bull had offered the family
three thousand dollars, and been refused. It was a darling
of the artist's heart, and when he feared lest it would suffer
harm in the flight out of the flames, he resolved to bury
it in the yard, and did so. Ordinarily such a precaution
would avail much, even if the earth was but slightly piled
above it. But, alas! the precious wood was consumed by the
fierce heat, and he found, upon returning for his treasure, only
charred remnants. Who can ever describe or enumerate the
losses of this kind in such a sweeping, all-consuming conflagra
tion, which allowed so little time for reflection or action 1
A gentleman who owned a choice library ordered the express
men to load up with books. When another team came for its
load, the question was, What shall we bring out? The answer
cuiue, •' Books ! " And so he saved his whole collection, and has
them intact, while all else was lost.
Other men employed all the hands they could find to roll
out their liquor casks and save this fiery fluid, whose ruinous
effects are worse than those of flame, because they burn up men's
souls, and involve them in other evils than those which end with
time. Some ladies resolved to secure their best clothing, and accord
ingly dressed themselves up in silks and velvets and jewelry,
even putting on several skirts and dresses in order to carry away
as much as possible by their only means of conveyance.
It was the only thing possible to many to remove their fami
lies, and then they were " saved, yet so as by fire." One man
brought from an upper story his aged mother, and left her standi
ing upon the sidewalk, while he hastened back for his sick wife.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 301
Upon reaching the rendezvous, the poor man missed his mother.
The flame and smoke and confusion were so great that he had but
a moment to search for her, and was obliged to fly and leave the
spot. He never looked upon that venerable form again. She
was lost, and perished.
A gentleman in one instance was coming down the steps of his
house, in perfect safety for the moment, as he supposed, when a
vast sheet of flame whirled down over the whole building, striking
him to the ground, and only not making an end of him because it
was lifted up for a moment by a gust of .fresh air, under cover of
which he staggered away. A saddle-horse jnst left unhitched be
fore the door dropped in his tracks with no attempt to get away,
and died almost instantly. A house-owner went for a wagon and
assistants, expecting to have ample time to remove all his goods ;
when the wagon was procured he found that it was hopeless to
attempt so much ; then he made up several bundles, only to find
that the larger of these must be left behind ; then the bundles
first carried out were set on fire by the shower of sparks in the
street, and the last man coming out was smitten down, as I have
related, on the very steps ; so that the party not only did not save
their goods, but barely escaped with their lives. Remembering
that in very many cases the getting away the family was similarly
interrupted, some idea may be formed of the terrible fashion in
which people were surprised and almost swallowed up. In the
case of a family particularly known to me, the lady looked out of
her window to get a glimpse of what she had heard of as a fire
two miles off, and before she could summon her household and
get on her clothes her house was in flames. She got away herself
half dressed, with but a wrapper hastily snatched, as she hurried
her little ones into the street. This was before day on Monday;
but during that forenoon of flying terrors, great numbers had
equal difficulty in getting out, after discovering imminent danger
where it was supposed no danger existed. I have learned definitely

302 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
since my last, that Robert Collyer and his family made their first
removal to his church, then a second to the house of a friend
several blocks west and a little north, where there was supposed
to be no danger, and thence they were driven in a short time to
find refuge eventually in the son's cottage, on the remote edge of
the city, at a point where something was spared.
child's relic.
A child of seven years went, at five in the morning, to her
church, which was likely to be burned, and looked for some ar-'
tide which she might save. Her younger sister stole away with'
her, and they both fixed on the communion-service as the most
valuable and precious thing they could carry. This had been
purchased by special contributions, and was sacred in the chil
dren's eyes. The plates and cups were taken charge of by the
eldest, and the flagon by the youngest. Out into that cloud of
smoke and dust these heroines marched in that early twilight, and
they faced it four hours — the youngest, meanwhile, having lost
her burden, and become separated from her sister. Three days
after the fire the father found the eldest child, and she still clung
to her treasure, and would give it to no one but her minister.
Such an instance of pious love and devotion to the sanctuary has
hardly an equal in the annals of time. Both these dear girls
were dearer than ever to the father's heart, and we trust God
himself l.«oked on them with a smile.
The greater part of the fire in the North Division occurred
after daylight on Monday, and the spectacle presented in that
quarter was such as would be presented by a community fleeing
before an invading army. Every vehicle that could be got was
hurrying from the burning district loaded with people and their
goods. Light buggies, barouches, carts, and express-wagons were
mingled indiscriminately, and laden with an indescribable variety
of articles. ( )thers were hurrying to the scene from curiosity, or

MBTHODIST CIIUKCII BLOCK.

FIRST PRKSBYTERIAN C

SOME OF THK RUINED CHURCHES OF CHICAC

ME-EOMAN CATHOLIC.

ST. JAMES'S CHURCH-EPISCOPAL.

IURCH— SOUTH SIDE. SECOND PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH.
O. — Photographkd by William Shaw, Chicago.

_N CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 305
to complete the work of rescuing friends and property before the
monster could destroy them.
People crowded the walks, leading children or pet dogs, carry
ing plants in pots, iron kettles not worth ten cents, or some value
less article seized in the excitement ; many looked dolefully upon
the lurid clouds, still far away, and wondered whether they and
their homes were in danger ; and others looked as though they
had spent the night in a coal-pit or a fiery furnace. There was
such " hurrying to and fro " as the world seldom sees, with univer
sal agony and distress. •" ,¦>;.; 1 .-;¦..;._. -.-< , ;,..,'.
A gentleman on the train with several of our merchants going
home from New York, says : ' '.•'. h]\ .t ->.;„, .... .' (.¦,' J^._..-,
A wretched cripple came into the train with a doggerel petition
asking for aid to put him on his legs again. " Just our affair,"
they laughed ; " we're all cripples together ; " but they showered
the "stamps" upon him, which he received with all the surly
discourtesy of his race. Then they began to ask each other where
they would put up, facetiously mentioning the burned hotels.
" Is the Pacific open ? " asked one.
" Yes, at the top," said another, and the jest was highly rel
ished. At Laporte a man came on board, of whom one of the passen
gers asked : " How about my house ? "
" Burned," was the reply. The next question consisted merely
of a searching glance, and the answer was, " She's all right at our
father's ; we got your papers out of the safe this morning ; they
are all right, too."
" Well," said the merchant coolly, " when a man has his wife
and his papers, what more does he want ? "
A CHICAGO MAN'S GOOD FORTUNE.
The first man I met on leaving the train was the Hon. L.
Swett. I asked if he was one of the few fortunates. He smiled
IS

306 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
and nodded. I congratulated bim on the safety of his house.
" Oh ! that's another matter ; my house is gone, but my wife and
children were saved." This spirit is too common to be remarked,
yet when you compare it with what you see among other people,
it seems very admirable.
A druLr<risf came to me one day in Madrid, half insane because
he had bought a soda-fountain which he could not work. He
tore his hair, bit his fingers, and called down maledictions on his
birthday, because he saw $300 in danger of being lost. "My
ducats and my daughter!" A Chicago man is very fond of
his daughter, if he has one ; if not, he is equally fond of his
neighbor's daughter. As for ducats, he likes the gaining of them
remarkably well ; but when he loses them, he thinks much less
of them than of those he intends to gain.
The gloomiest man on the train was the representative of a
great New York house, which had large credits in Chicago.
Potter Palmer left home on Sunday night worth many millions;
despatches reached him at every station on his way East, and
every despatch announced the loss of a fortune. But he did not
tear his hair, nor did he speak disrespectfully of the day he was
horn. He doubtless thought very vigorously how he was to go to
work to get back those millions.
A lady who resided on the North Side, thus gives her experi
ence : I do not speak or write of this terrible event as one who
has only listened to the report that flew from lip to lip, but as
one who stood face to face with death, and counted the leaden-
footed hours as they dragged by their endless length, and prayed
for the coining of the morn — that morning whose dawn was to re
veal onlv more clearly than the lurid glare of the flames had done,
how wide-spread was the ruin that the fire had wrought. I had at
tended service at St. James, and returning, retired early to rest.^
At twelve I was awakened by some of the boarders in the house
coming in from the fire, and passing through the hall up to their

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 307
rooms in the story above mine. My room was on the south side
ot the house, and the light shone through the shutters and fell in
red bars on the opposite wall. I sprang up and looked from the
window. The fire was a mile or more away, but the roar of the
flames and the crash of falling buildings could be plainly heard,
while a meteoric shower of sparks filled the air, and cinders fell
like snow around us. The wind was blowing very hard, and con
stantly increasing. At one o'clock footsteps were heard hurrying
through the house, doors opened and shut, and anxious faces
peered ont to ask, " What of the night." At two o'clock a niesh
Bage was sent the round of the rooms, "Pack your tirunks." /The
fire was rapidly nearing us. At three, the order came to "bring
out the baggage " — human strength was in vain — human power
was as a thing of nought — human ingenuity or courage was
powerless before that angel of destruction whose red torch lay at
our doors. The fire could neither be controlled nor checked.
The gas, already burning low, went out, and with a terrible, op
pressive sense of the impending danger, we went outside the
door, and sat down on our trunks, where they were piled await
ing transportation to a place of safety. Our house, 364 and 366,
was in the centre of the last block of buildings at the east end of
Ohio street. Beyond that was a space of unimproved ground
about two blocks in extent, then a large lumber yard, then the
beach and the Lake. Opposite us was a fine block of buildings,
consisting in part of the residence of H. M. Miller, the well-
known jeweller, and a large first-class private boarding-house.
Like our own, it was the last block, and beyond it the unim
proved ground spread down to the water. Upon this space our
trunks were placed, but the heat and the falling cinders soon
drove us down to the beach, to the very water's edge.
There we again sat down, only, as it proved, to wait the com
ing of the hungry flames. At five o'clock, all that was left of
what had been our pleasant home, was a heap of iron, brick, and

308 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
ashes ; and even while we congratulated ourselves upon our per
sonal safety, and jested lightly about a " tent on the beach " for
a temporary local residence, the cry was heard, "The lumber-yard
is on fire ! " It was only too true. Like flashes of lightning from
the breust of some purple cloud, fire leaped forth red-tongued
from a score of points, then a broad sheet of dancing flames and
flying cinders; and in a moment more the heat from the dry,
seasoned pine lumber was intolerable. No pen can do justice to
the scene that ensued. No imagination has power to pictnre the
sickening details. No tongue can convey to another an idea of
its horror. As far as we could see to the north, the beach was
covered with goods of every description. The household gods of the
rich and the poor lay side by side, and the millionaire and laborer
sat down together to guard them. If death is a leveller, what
less can be said of a calamity like this ? The lady who yesterday
rolled by in her carriage with her coachman in livery, or who
held her silken robes daintily aside, while some child of poverty
crept humbly by in rags, hushed her own bitter lament to speak
soothing and gentle, but groundless words of hope and encour
agement to the homeless wretch by her side. The sparks fell
amidst the piles of bedding and clothing around us ; fire broke
out in every direction, and we were compelled to abandon every
thing, and fly as fast as our weariness would permit, toward the
North Pier. What hand guided our flight, only the heart that
is stayed upon its Maker, knows; — surely it was not reason, for
that seemed to have utterly forsaken the mass of humanity that
fled, amidst groans, and tears, and curses, and prayers, the neigh
ing of frantic horses, the lowing of frightened cattle, the yelping
of dogs, and the cries of cats that were half consumed by the fire
while they yet lived. Neither the weakness of age nor the help
lessness of infancy were sacred in that hour when all were despe
rate. Suddenly, while we pressed on in our mad wild flight, a
shriek — a woman's shriek — freighted with inexpressible agony,

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST 309
rang out on the air, rising above the Babei-like confusion that
surrounded us, and, looking back, I saw a sight that chilled my
blood, even in that moment when our terror was so intense as
almost to preclude the possibility of another sensation. A pair
of powerful horses rendered uncontrollable by the heat and smoke
and confusion, had thrown down a boy of six or seven years of
age, and the heavily-laden dray to which they were attached
passed over his head, killing him almost instantly. The mother
sprang forward and caught up her child, and, with the mangled
and bleeding head pressed to her bosom, gave expression to her
sorrow in most heart-rending cries, that rose, shriek upon shriek,
as she staggered on with her lifeless burden. Scorched by the
intense heat, suffocated by the dense smoke, blinded by the
sand and ashes and cinders, the crowd pressed on. Alas for
him or her who fell by the way ! There was a cry, a groan, and
the tidal wave of humanity swept on, and all was over.
Our flight was stopped at last by the river. Kind hearts had
devised means to aid us, and kind hands drew from shore to
shore a dry dock laden with its living freight. I crossed with
the first, and climbed from the dock to a schooner, thence to
the shore, and then, over piles of hewn timber, over heaps of
stone, and bricks, and rubbish, — how, is known but to Him who
has promised that " as thy day is, so shall thy strength be."
Three or four steamers lay moored at the North Pier that had
come into port during the night, and our party went on board
the Alpena, while others went on board the Morning Star and
the Corona, and as many as could be were taken off by schooners
and tugs, but yet the majority were left upon the beach. Soon
the flames spread to the shipping ; several schooners were burned,
then the flames were seen bursting from the windows of the
steamer Navarino, and the miserable refugees who had sought
shelter here fled panic-stricken from this new danger. For a
time it seemed that our own boat must share the same fate, for

310 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
she was aground, with her fires out, and only the almost super
human efforts of her officers saved her. At nine o'clock we were
safely anchored in the Lake, and the doomed city was hidden
from our sight by the pall of smoke that enveloped it. We
secured a state-room, and the three ladies and two children who
made our party crowded into the berths, where we tried in vain
to rest our throbbing temples and weary limbs. The day wore
Blowly by, and as the gray shadows of the early dusk crept over
us, I went out on the deck to take, what it seemed then, must
be my last look at Chicago. The long, low stretch of shore lay
spread out before us, and as far as the eye could reach was an-
almost unbroken line of lurid, cruel fire. To the north and to-
the south the flames leaped, and swayed, and surged like hungry-
fiends. The wind still blew a perfect tornado, and, in spite of
two anchors, our boat rocked to and fro on the wild waters, like
a spirit that could not rest. One long look of sorrow and de
spair ; one long look of bitter, unavailing regret for her fate ;
one long, sad, unspoken look of farewell to the Queen of the
West, that peerless city that was being tried as by fire, and I
turned to enter the cabin, when a group attracted my attention.
In the centre was a woman who, under other circumstances,.
must have been very beautiful, crouching upon the floor, with.
her white hands fast locked together. Her great brown eyes
were tearless, but eloquent with their dumb woe, and ever and
anon moans burst from the quivering lips that spoke no word of •
the sorrow that had almost unseated her reason. They told me
she was the mother of three little children ; the youngest a babe
of a few weeks old.
Her husband had gone out iu the night and had not returned,
and when the fire drove her from her home, she started down the
beach with the crowd, a little nurse girl, herself, a mere child of
a dozen or fourteen years, assisting in the care of the children.
One of them had fallen, and being injured, she had put her babe

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 311
in the nurse's arms to be able to better assist the child, when the
crowd pressed forward, and before she could recover herself she
was parted from her helpless little brood. Back and forth
through the throng she had run, calling aloud for them to come
to her, until exhausted, when, she could not tell how, she had
come upon the boat. Frantic with suspense as to the fate of her
husband and children, she paced the cabin through the long cold
night, and her moans and the sullen plash of the waves, as they
broke against the boat, mingled with. my dreams, as in imagina-,
tion I lived over again the scenes of that .terrible night and day. ¦
At midnight sufficient rain had fallen to subdue the fires, already
partially exhausted, and when the bleak, cold morning broke we
looked upon a scene of desolation such as never was seen before
in the New World. We had partaken of no food since our late
Sabbath dinner, the Alpena having no stores on board, and in
deed the excitement had stimulated us to that extent that it is
improbable that even the nectar or ambrosia of the gods would
have tempted us to break our fast, or that the royal banquets of
Cleopatra would have provoked a thonght of hunger ; but now a
sickening faintness crept over us, and we were weak and worn.
At eleven o'clock Captain Samuel Shannon, of the propeller
" Toledo," came into port and visited the Alpena, and learning
the facts, invited us, with a seaman's proverbial generosity, to
come upon his boat and eat a warm breakfast, to which he had
the satisfaction of seeing full justice done. At noon we left the
boat and once more trod the streets of that city whose wealth,
and prosperity, and luxuriant growth had been the pride of the
world, as well as the marvel of the age. But now, shorn of her
glory by one fell blow, she sat, a queen indeed, but a queen
whose emblems of royalty were broken, whose robes of Tyrian
purple trailed in the dust, whose shapely limbs were swathed in
sackcloth, whose feet were buried in the ashes of her ruined
palaces. Yet with all our hearts we did her homage, for the

312

HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES

world of earth and air and water were her empire, and her throne
was as enduring as the blue Lake that fay before her.
A wholesale groeei, residing on the North Side, was absent
from the city. His wife, a delicate woman, finding the flames
suddenly upon her house, snatched up a silver cake-basket and a
valuable iittie clock, took one of ner two children in her arms
and another by the hand, and fled. As she sped before the pur
suing fire, she found her strength failing, and begged the driver
of a passing express wagon, lightly laden, to help her in her ex
tremity. He would for the clock. She submitted to the exac
tion, was carried three blocks, and then forced to get down. The
cake-basket bought her another ride of about the same distance,
and then she was forced to finish her flight on foot, her means of
satisfying the rapacity of drivers being exhausted. Finally, more
dead than alive, she reached a place of safety.
Oil Monday evening a knot of men, from 35 to 40 years of
age, stood on Michigan avenue, watching the fire as it fought its
way southward in the teeth of the wind. They were looking
grimy and dejected enough, until another, a broad-shouidered
man of middle height, a face that might have belonged to one
of the Cheeryble brothers, shining through the overspreading
dust and soot, approached them, and clapping one of their num
ber on the shoulder, exclaimed cheerfully : " Well, James, we
are all o;one together. Last night I was worth a hundred thou-
sand, and so were you. Now where are we ? " " Gone," returned
James. Then followed an interchange, from which it appeared
that the members of the group were young merchants worth from
$50,000 to $150,000. After this, said the first speaker, "Well,
Jim, I have a home left, and my family are safe; I have a barrel
of flour, some bushels of potatoes, and other provisions laid in for
the winter ; and now, Jim, I'm going to fill my house to-night
with these poor fellows," turning to the sidewalks crowded with
fleeing poor, " chuck full from cellar to garret! " The blaze of

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 313
the conflagration revealed something worth seeing in that man's
breast Possibly the road to his heart may have been choked
with rubbish before. If so, the fire had burned it clear, till it
shone like one of the streets of burnished gold which he will one
day wdk.
A woman .iving on Ontario street, between Market and Frank
lin, brought out her two children, aged five and seven, safely, and
then went for a baby. The children followed her back, and none
came out aiive. ¦¦' -^-.f •>; •_
The Quinn brothers went into their house whUe it was untouch
ed by the fire to secure some clothing, but in getting out had to
jump through the windows. '¦¦<¦'¦> *ai -««> ,n..*n-v , .; ; ¦-< .;; ,.< f
Mr. Maicomb, who died aDout two hours before the fire reached
his residence, was burned almost beyond recognition.
A story is related of the proprietor of St. Caroline's Court, a
hotel on the West Side of Chicago, illustrative of General Sheri
dan's idea of the eternal fitness of things. The Generai called
at the hotel and inquired the price of board. " Six dollars per
day," was the reply. " The price before the fire ? " inquired the
General. " Two dollars and a half" General Sheridan replied
that he would run that hotel himself, and at $2.50 per day. He
placed an orderly in charge, and at once put a stop to exorbitant
charges. The following curious incident is well authenticated: Mrs.
 , the housekeeper of a prominent hotel, had made up her
mind to leave the city a few days before the fire. She had not
drawn her salary for some time, and it amounted to $1,000. On
Saturday this amount was handed to her by the proprietor. The
boarders at the same time got up a testimonial, amounting to $150,
and presented her with the mouey that evening. She deposited the
greenbacks under the carpet in a corner of her room. When the
fire was raging, Mrs.  rushed into her room and succeeded in
saving a favorite canary-bird. But she forgot all about the money.

lili HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
The son of Mayor Mason, of Chicago, is worthy of Chicago and
of his large-hearted sire. Everything was swept away except his
wedding presents, wliich were at the house of his father. This
ho..,e was saved. He sold them to Tiffany & Co. for $5,000.
With this money be will now re-establish himself, opening a
stove store for the time being in the basement of his father's ele
gant residence. The young man shows the real Chicago pluck.
A locomotive engineer was on his freight-train, forty miles
from the city, when he heard the fire was raging on Michigan
avenue. He said, " I asked permission to go on with my train,
and was forbidden ; I put on steam, and they put down the brakes,
but I pulled my train as near to the depot as I could, and left it
in charge of the fireman. I hurt nobody and did no harm to
anything; I went straight to the place where I left my family,
and. dragged out their bones. When I came back to my situation
they told me I was discharged, and I am now homeless and
helpless." Men were desperate, and deemed almost anything justifiable.
One who saw that he could not escape, opened his veins that he
might not know the horrors of death by fire. Another, probably
rendered insane by losses and terror, was found with his throat
cut from ear to ear. Men who were laboring to rescue their
books and papers from the peril, were so involved in the mazes
of the fire, that they tried several streets before they were able to
escape, and then suffered serious inconveniences or injury in the
final struggle that saved them. One, in trying to gather a few
things from his room, fell suffocated, and, recovering presence of
mind, crawled to the window, and calling on men to catch him,
leaped from the second story, and w.is able to rejoin his family.
A. fireman brought a two-year-old child to a lady, which was
snatched out of the upper story of a lofty building in the heart of
the fire. The little thing was scorched and singed, and when
asked. " Where is papa . " he answered, " Gone to church."

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 315
" Where is mamma? " " Gone to church." So unexpected was
the fire, that the parents had not time to find their darling after
church. Some 300 were caged up near the river, and taken off
by the steamer that lay close at hand. Others, hurried out of
their home and cut off from egress by any street, fled to the Lake
shore, and as the furious element closed around them they were
pressed into the water, and kept themselves for hours by dipping
their heads into the cool element. ', Children were immersed
repeatedly, in order to keep them from _ (being scorched, and
many came from their wet refuges more dead than alive/.. A
family who had spent several years abroad,, arid collected many
valuable works of art and souvenirs of their journeys, were driven
from one place to another, and finally took refbge in a stable.
The proprietor begged them to take his carriage and drive it ofl
to save it. In this they escaped several miles to a place of safety,
having nothing left but what they wore upon their persons.
A man at the corner of Division and Brandt streets had appa
rently secured his household goods in an open lot ; but the flames
mercilessly attacked his effects, and seeing there was no further
chance of saving them, he knelt down and offered a brief prayer,
after which he arose, clasped his hands in wild despair, and look
ing to heaven, exclaimed. " God help me now," and was soon lost
to view in the dense smoke through which be endeavored to make
his escape.
Mr. Kerfoot gives the following graphic account of his escape
from the fire with his wife and children : " Being the owner of
a horse and carriage which I used to go to and fro from my busi
ness, when I became satisfied that my house would soon be en
veloped. I brought my horse and carriage before the house, and
placed mv wife and children in it. There was then no room for
me, so I mounted the back of the animal and acted as postilion.
While drivino- through the flame and smoke which enveloped us
on all hands, I came across a gentleman who had his wife in a

31G HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
buggy, and was between the thills hauling it himself. I shouted
to him to hitch his carriage on behind mine, which he did, and
then got in beside his wife. I then drove forward as fast as I
could, for the flames were raging around us. After proceeding
a short distance, another gentleman was found standing beside
the street, with a carriage, waiting for a horse, which was not
likely to come I directed him to fasten on behind the second
carriage, which he did, and in this way we whipped up and got
out of the way of the flames with our wives and children, thank
God." A remarkable instance of courage and presence of mind is told
of Mr. E. I. Tinkham, of the Second National Bank. On Mon
day morning, before the fire had reached that building, Mr. Tink
ham went to the safe and succeeded in getting out $600,000.
This pile of greenbacks he packed into a common trunk, and
hired a colored man for $1,000 to convey it to the Milwaukee
depot. Fearing to be recognized in connection with the precious
load, Mr. Tinkham followed the man for a time at some distance,
but soon lost sight of bim. He was then overtaken by the fire
storm, and was driven toward the Lake on the South Side. Here,
after passing through several narrow escapes from suffocation, he
succeeded in working his way, by some means, to a tug-boat, and
got round to the Milwaukee depot, where he found the colored
man waiting for him, with the trunk, according to promise. Mr.
Tinkham paid the man the $1,000, and started with the trunk
for MilwauKee. The money was safely deposited in Marshall &
Illsley's bank, of that city.
Mr. Nathaniel Bacon, of Niles, Michigan, student-at-law with
Messrs. Tenney, McClellan & Tenney, at No. 120 Washington
street, slept in their office'. On waking at about one o'clock, and
seeing the Court-House on fire, he saw that the office, which was
immediately opposite, would surely go. Judging that one of the
safes in the office would not prove fire-proof, he promptly emptied

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 317
the contents of his trunk on the floor of the doomed building,
and, filling it with the interior contents of the safe — books, valu
able papers, money, etc. — shouldered the trunk and carried it
to a place of safety on Twenty-second street, losing thereby all
his own doth ing and effects except what he had on. That young
man is a hero.
In the midst of all that was sad and terrible, there was an
occasional gleam of the humorous.
One merchant, who found his safe and its contents destroyed,
quietly remarked that there was no blame attached to the safe ;
that it was of chilled iron, and would have stood, but that the

'. •_!.':

¦ t

fire had taken the chill all out.
A firm of painters on Madison street, bulletin their removal
as follows, on a sign-board erected like a guide-board upon tho
ruins of their old establishment : —

MOORE & GOE,
House and Sign Painters,
Removed to 111 Desplaines st.
Capital, $000,000.30.

An editor of a daily paper has received several poetical
effusions suggested by the late disaster ; but he declines them all,
on the ground that it is wasteful to print anything which requires
every line with a capital, when capital is as scarce as it is now in
Chicago. A bride, who entered the holy married state on Tuesday
evening, determined to do so in a calico dress, in deference both
to the proprieties and the necessities of the occasion. But she
desired that her toilette de chambre should be, if possible, on a
more gorgeous scale. Being destitute of a robe de nuit of suit
able elegance, she sent out to several neighbors of her temporary

313

HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES

hostess to borrow such a garment, stipulating that it must be a
fine one. So peculiar is the feminine nature, however, that her
modest request excited no enthusiasm in her behalf among the
ladies to whom it came. This is not a joke.
A sign-board stuck in the ruins of a building on Madison
street, reads: "Owing to circumstances over which we had no
control, we have removed," etc. Chicago, October 12, 1871.
To the Editor of the Chicago Evening Journal: —
The attention of Chicagoans is called to the 8th chapter of
Deuteronomy, and the clergy of the city are respectfully re
quested to take the same for a text on Sunday morning next.
Merchant.
One of our merchants, reported insane, was heard from at
New York — where he had gone to bury a sister — in the following
noble manner : —
Mrs. Potter Palmer :
I have particulars of fire. Am perfectly reconciled to our
losses. We shall not be embarrassed. Have an abundance left.
Be cheerful, and do all possible for sufferers. Will return by first
train after funeral. Potter Palmer.
The fugitives from our city were good, bad, and indifferent.
The men of pluck and value to us generally stood by the wreck
to restore the town. Many truly unfortunate could do no better
than to leave for a time. Some found the place too hot for them.
Among these may be reckoned the villain who thus ignobly
perished in Ohio, where he had gone to retrieve his fortunes.
Says the Lima Gazette : —
The fire in Chicago has begun to make itself felt in the rural

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 319
districts. Additions are daily made to the population of the
country towns. These additions consist generally of men with
scarred faces and sinister looks, who are looking around for some
opening in the way of business and trade.
On last Saturday, October 28, one of these enterprising unfor
tunates visited some of our farmers in Amanda, German, and
Marion Townships, in this county. He was in the horse trade.
Wherever he went he wanted to buy horses. All day Saturday
was consumed in fruitless attempts to buy a horse. Night found
him in Marion Township, about three miles west of Elida. '¦¦ et ;'"
. Between seven and eight o'clock in the evening he entered the
house of Andrew Stever. Stever is about sixty years old, a
bachelor, and has the reputation of owning considerable of this
world's goods. He lives alone in a small log cabin, is the owner
of the farm on which the house is situated, and has resided here
for twenty years past. He has the reputation of being a peace
able, quiet, inoffensive man.
After entering the^house of Stever, our horse-buyer from the
burnt district introduced the subject of horses, and proposed to
buy one from Stever. Stever had none to sell. He then in
quired for matches, and requested Stever to furnish him with
some. This Stever proceeded to do. The matches had scarcely
passed from his hand before the stranger drew from his pocket a
revolver, and, presenting it at Stever, • asked him "if he saw
that ? " Stever replied that he did, but that " this was no place
for it." Stever in the mean time had observed that the features
of his visitor were disguised by daubing mud in his moustache
and whiskers, which were of not more than a week's growth.
Stever, therefore, by way of precaution (and which precaution
had also probably been quickened by the sight of the revolver),
opened the blade of a pocket-knife, and kept it in his hand — his
hand in his pocket.
A motion on the part of the stranger to present his revolver

320 HISTORY OF TOE GREAT FIRMS
was the signal on which Stever acted. Grasping the hand that
held the pistol with his left hand, he told the man he must leave
the house. A terrible struggle ensued. Tables were turned over.
and broken, and everything movable in the house was displaced:
Stever kept his hold upon the pistol-arm, while the stranger
strove to beat him over the head with the pistol as severely as was
possible under the death grip of Stever. While this was going
forward, Stever continued with his right hand to ply the knife.
This he continued to do, although he was under, to so good pur
pose, that, to use his own language, he made him " grunt." His
hold upon Stever relaxed, when Stever rose from the floor, the
stranger rising with him. On getting to their feet, the stranger
reeled and fell in the portal of the door, when Stever jumped
over him and ran to a neighbor — a Mr. Carr. With Mr. Carr
he returned to the house, where they found the nocturnal visitor
where he fell. He gave one or two gasps after they got to the
house and was dead. The Coroner's inquest on Sunday devel
oped the following facts: Before entering the house he visited
the stable and procured a bridle. This, with his hat, overcoat,
and shawl, he left near a stack of straw. On his person were
found six watches, two revolvers, one single-barrelled pistol, and
$82.50 in money. His arms were tattooed with India ink. He
was apparently about forty-five years old, with as forbidding fea
tures as one seldom sees. There was nothing on his person to
mark who he was or whence he came. The Coroner's jury ex
amined Stever. and the body of the unknown was disposed of by
the Coroner.
A policeman in New York City found four women and a child
standing on the corner of Chambers and West streets. In answer
to bis inquiry they told him that they had just arrived from Chi
cago by the eight o'clock train, and, being entirely destitute, they
did not know what to do. The officer took them to the station-
house, and Sergeant John J. Fitzgerald, who was in charge,

SEW ENGLAND CHURCH— CONGREGATIONAL.

RUINS OK THE BIGELOW HOUSE

tUINS OK THF, ILLINOIS

RUIN'S OK THK PACIFIC 1107:...

'—GERMAN CATHOLIC:

1ENTRAL LAND OFFICE

UKTTY CHURCH -DR. CJOLLTBR.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 323
examined tho case. Finding the women were jnst what they
had represented themselves to be, sufferers by the disaster in Chi
cago, he made every effort in his power to accommodate them
the best way he could for a short time in the station-liouse. He
then sent men out to the neighboring houses to state the case
of the poor people. Assistance soon came in the person of Mr.
N. Hnggins, proprietor of the Cosmopolitan Hotel, who desired
the sergeant to send the women over to his house, and they
should have everything they needed until the proper authorities
came to look after them. The women were then scut to the Cos-
mopolitan,*and gave their names as Lina Mylo, 'Minnie Ditzler,
Annie Fris, and Bridget Mahon and child. They were sent up
stairs, were properly cared for, and, being tired from the hard
ships they had lately undergone, they all retired except Annie
Fris, who made the following statement to a Herald reporter of
the scenes through which she had just passed : —
My father was a silversmith on State street, and lived in the
house with my mother. I wanted to learn to cook, so I went out
to the bouse of a young friend of mine to get taught. My father
wanted to bring her into the house, but I did not want that, as I
preferred to go to where she lived. He tried to keep me at home,
and bought me a piano for $1,000, and I had only just taken two
lessons on it when all was burned.
I am the only child my father and mother had in this country.
We belonged to Medo, in Bohemia, where I have a sister married
now. On Sunday night, about nine o'clock, I went to bed, and
had been asleep for about an hour, when the other girl woke me,
crying fire. I jumped up and rushed to the windows, but every
thing all around where I could see was in a great big blaze. I
pulled on something, and all ran down the street to save my
father and mother, but when I got within about half a block of
them the fire was all in the house, and father was hanging out of
the window, stretching his hands out to me, calling to me to help
19

321: HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
him, but I could do nothing. Then I turned to go back to my
friend's house, but sonic men had come along the street, and they
threw bottles of kerosene and matches into the place until every
thing was on fire. I don't remember what occurred after that, I
was so frightened. When I saw my poor father burn up before
me, and heard my mother shrieking out to me, and I could do
nothing for them, I would have rushed into the house and died
with them, but some men picked me up, threw me into a carriage,
and took me away out to the other side of the city. I was on
the college grounds with hundreds of other people. I did not
know any one there, and no one knew me. I have no relatives
in this country anywhere. I was two days in that place without
anything to eat but some little bits of bread that a lady gave me. I
did not want to eat. I was so distressed about my family, and
having nowhere nor any one to go to, I went into the woods with
all the other people, when the fire came to us, and there we had
nothing scarcely for three days. We had to sleep on the grass
when we did sleep, but that was very little, as we had too much
trouble to think of it. On Friday I left Chicago because I did
not know what to do. Some ladies gave me a pass to New
York in a church, and I came on here. It made me so sad and
sick to remain in Chicago that I thought I would rather go any
where than stay there. Two of these ladies who are with me
promised to take me with them, as they have some friends here,
but they are very poor themselves, and I don't know what they
will do. My father had some money in the bank, but I don't
know in what bank, or how much it was, so that I suppose that
is gone too. I am just fourteen years of age, and I have nothing
in the world but just what is on me. I think if I could get back
home to my own country I might get something. I don't know
what to do. I have scarcely thought about it yet, for my poor
father and mother they did everything for me. All the people
were very kind to me since I left Chicago., I got something to

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 325
eat at Buffalo, and then the people on the train gave us some
thing as we came along. The police were unusually kind to us
tvhen we came here, and it makes up a little to us to find so much
charity and feeling in the people.
Miss Fris is an interesting-looking young lady; she speaks
English freely ; and as soon as the present grief of her loss and
the bewilderment of the strange situation she finds herself in wear
off, would prove a great acquisition to many a private familv in
some position, as she is willing to work. J''' >'::' ¦¦¦¦¦>
Our young city had many charitable institutions, and among
them, on the extreme north, was the Half Orphan" Asylum, where
much good was being done by a few benevolent ladies, in relieving
these unfortunate children whose natural protectors were unable
or nnwilling to care for them in a tender and humane manner.
There were some seventy odd children in the asylum at the time of
the fire, including about a dozen infants, and when it became evi
dent to the matron that the building would have to be vacated, she
at once made preparations and looked about for the safest means of
removing her charge of little children. The North Side line of
omnibuses bad removed some half dozen of their vehicles to the
neighborhood of the Asylum for safety ; and Mrs. Hobson at once
sent a gentleman to secure the services of a few omnibuses in
which to remove the children to a place of safety. His efforts
were fruitless, and he returned to the asylum with the intelligence
that the omnibuses could not be had, as the persons in charge
would not allow them to be used. Mrs. Hobson immediately
went herself to represent the urgency of their claim, but utterly
failed to procure even the use of one omnibus, to which number
she at last reduced her request.
Failing to secure assistance, Mrs. Hobson returned to her charge,
and at once, with the assistance of some kind friends, got the
children in readiness to find safer quarters, which they hoped to
do in the new building built for the Asylum on North Halsted

..20 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
street, near Centre, which was as yet in an unfinished condition.
About ten o'clook on Monday morning tho little troop of children
started to find a new [dace of shelter, each little one able to walk,
carrying -.une article of furniture or utensil, endeavoring with
their punv strength to save something for the general good. They
finally reached their destination in safety. With the aid of a
cart, sonic ten loads of bedding, clothing, etc., were removed from
tho old to the new quarters, and the little ones were made as
comfortable as possible, and finally put to rest. But their sleep
was to be of but a short duration, for the fire-fiend threatened to
pay them another visit, and again the little ones had to be re
moved, and again they fled from before the line of fire whose
progress no human power could arrest. The streets were crowded
with a multitude of people who were frantically hurrying toward
the West Division, endeavoring to carry some of their household
goods to a place of safety, disputing the right of way with teams
of every description, loaded with every conceivable variety of
household goods. Amid this thronging multitude, and under a
heavy rain which had set in, the poor little children had to en
deavor to pick their way along. At Clybourne avenue bridge,
foot passengers and wagons had to mingle in one common road
way, and nothing but an overruling Providence could have
brought these little children in safety through such a hurrying
and dangerous crowd. They- crossed tho bridge in safety and
were now out of immediate danger, and by two o'clock Tuesday'
morning a church building was reached, tho key found, and again
the tired little crowd were in a place of shelter, but wet, hungry,
and tired. Tho neighboring people kindly assisted in hunting
up bread and milk for tho children, and sleep once more kindly
took possession of their weary frames.
But Mrs. Ilobson's task was not yet done. As soon as herv
charge was iu safety she returned to tho Halstcd street building,
only to find that the bedding, clothing, and provisions which she

&

IN CHICAGO AND TOE WEST. 327
and others had saved with so much labor during the day had been
stolen during her absence. Disheartened, but not discouraged,
she sat down on the steps, wrapped in a blanket, intending to
keep guard over the building the balance of the night. And weL
it was she did so, for soon after a couple of fellows entered the
inclosurc and came toward the rear entrance of the building, ex
pecting probably to have matters their own way. But Mrs. Hob
son was equal to the emergency. She called out to them to stop,
as they had no business there. This did not intimidate them but
for a moment, and they again advanced toward the building,
when Mrs. Hobson raised her arm toward them and told them
if they came any further she would blow their brains out. This
frightened the scoundrels, and turning about they hastily ran
away. Thus was the Asylum building probably saved, and the
orphans placed in security through the efforts of the noble matron,
Mrs. E. L. Hobson, and a few devoted friends.
Some people had a less noble mission than this, so nobly per
formed. Says one :—
It was almost as ridiculous as melancholy to watch the long
6trcam of people who poured out of the tenements on Adams street,
Van Buren street, and the alleys near the river, both on the West
and South Sides, and to notice what each bore. On Adams street
the perambulators outnumbered every other article saved. About
every third person wheeled one, and about every seventh perambu
lator contained a baby. One man in his shirt sleeves, and with but
one boot, wheeled a child's carriage, in which was a baby, perhaps
eighteen months old, astonished at its sudden awakening and the
crowd, and sucking lustily at a green paper lamp-shade. These
alone evidently remained of all his Lares and Penates. Another,
perfectly frenzied with excitement, rushed along Harrison street,
waving over his head the handle of an earthenware pitcher, and
shouting at the top of his voice. The women, with hardly an excep
tion, carried a bundle in one arm and a baby in the other, and had

32S HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
their shawls thrown over their heads. Perhaps a couple of older
children clung, frightened and crying, to their skirts. When the
hotels were menaced, out poured from each a long string of guests,
each with a valise iu one hand and dragging behind him a trunk.
The fate of these amateur baggage-smashers is wrapped in mystery,
as hardly a travelling trunk was anywhere to be seen on Tuesday.
If all our citizens, as Marshal Williams suggests, had been
as fertile in expedients as the one below, much more might have
been spared.
" One building on the West Side, which was saved after des
perate exertions, owes its preservation to an agent, rarely if ever
used before for such a purpose, and which in efficacy was a
formidable rival to the Babcock. The roof was covered with
wetted blankets, and when water for this purpose failed, two
barrels of cider were employed with success. The flames retired,
and the proprietor on the roof caroled a joyous pean, 'A little
more cider, too.' "
A good story is told of Mr. Milligan's trotter, a splendid animal,
worthy the industrious and successful owner, who had but recently
rebuilt his magnificent store after a fire had consumed it to the
ground. Peoria sent a steam fire-engine to the relief of Chicago, and in
one of the narrow streets it was so nearly surrounded by the flames
that the men had given up hope of saving it, and were about being
forced to seek their own safety in flight. At this juncture Mr.
Milligan, of the firm of Heath & Milligan, came along with his
roadster. Perceiving their peril, in a moment he had hitched the
fast trotter to one side of the pole, the men caught the tongue,
pole, and wheel, and with a cheery shout, out they whirled
through the smoke and cinders at a four-minute gait. The Peo-
rians saved their steamer, and vow that they will get up a sub--
scription and purchase Milligan's sorrel if the city has to issue
more bonds.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 32£
An Eastern man, who felt somewhat incredulous about the re
porters' marvellous tales of the fire and its merciless devastation,
thus describes THE SCENE OF DESOLATION.
As I have said before, I had a sneaking idea, while I was yet in
the suburbs, that the extent of the fire had been exaggerated in the
Eastern papers, and that I would be certain to find a very differ
ent state of affairs from that which I had anticipated before I got
out of the cars. But how mournfully was I disappointed ! We
entered the burned district by parsing 'through State street. It
was dusk as we got near where the Court-House once stood, and
the feeling that came over me as I stopped my horse at this point
and looked about me, was one of positive 'awe and dismay. As
far as the eye could reach was a waste, a desert, with here and
there a standing wall of some great building, through whose open
windows the lurid glare of the coal fires beyond and around could
be seen falling and rising with the wind as regularly as if worked
by machinery. I shall never forget the scene. On, on we went,
turning here and there from one street to another, picking our
way carefully over the well-tried and yet perfect wooden pave
ment, lest by a misstep we should be plunged headlong into some
cellarway or vault screened from view by a pile of brick or stone
that had once been a building. After making all sorts of wind
ings, with the same interminable view of gaunt walls and burning
coal piles surrounding us whichever way we went, we reached a
bridge which was solid enough to admit of our crossing to the
North Side. Indeed, when I had got to the bridge I was under
the impression that I had reached the full limit of the fire track ;
but how wonderfully mistaken did I find myself when, on getting
to the other side, I saw before me a plain two or three miles
ahead, as clear of anything like a house as the wild prairie itself !
I noticed, as we passed along the deserted streets south of, the

330 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
river, which were lined with the debris of hundreds of buildings,
that here and there the walls of some stanch old pile had resisted
the .-.hock of the flames and yet stood — though mere skeletons —
monuments of the handiwork of the men who had put them
together. JJti. once we got to the North Side, how changed was
everything! It is true that here and there a wall of some
church yet reared itself above the level of the street. Yet for
miles about the perspective was that of a desert waste, with
nothing to break the clear view of the horizon on every side but
the tall blackened telegraph poles, and the innumerable trees
which still stood charred and dead, with their despoiled branches
stretching out over the streets, like skeleton hands pointing to the
graves of the many who were lost and buried beneath the ruins.
Way out to the north, way to the south, to the east, and to the
west, the view was the same — nothing but a level plain, broken
slightly here and there by a pile of marble, crumbling to dust, or
a great mound of brick, once red, but now white as snow, and yet
so hot that not even the sentinels stationed near the safes dared to
stand within a yard of them. I don't think a New Yorker can
have any idea of this awful scene unless he brings it home to
his own city. Let him imagine a tire to have broken out on
Tenth avenue, near Twenty-eighth street, to have crossed in a
straight line to Third avenue, and then to have made a clean
sweep between these two lines clear down to the Battery, not
leaving over a hundred walls standing, every house being levelled
to the gutter, and he can then have some idea of the ravages of
the awful Chicago Fire. Then let him try to do as I did, travel
through the awful waste on horseback and try to find out where
this and that building stood, and I guarantee he would find the
task no child's play.
You would no doubt laugh if I should tell you that, if New
York was ravaged as I have supposed it to have been, you could
not drive down Broadway in the waste and point out where once

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 331
stood the St. Nicholas. Yet I assure you my guide had been a
resident of Chicago for twenty years, and, when we were about
crossing to the North Side, so great was the desolation, so level
the track the fire had made of wall and cellar, that he could
not tell me where once stood the Sherman House. Can any bet
ter idea than this be given of what a desert the great business dis
trict of Chicago was in ? But to continue my narrative. During
our exploration of the North Side for an hour or so we came across
— will you believe it ? — a frame house amid all the ruins intact
and without a singe I There it stood, with the crumbling remains
of a great granite building all around it, and a few blocks off, sur
rounded by tho blackened iron beams of a fire-proof brick build
ing that fell a prey to the raging flames, was a neat little green
house, with not a pane of glass broken, not a whitened sash
blackened by the smoke. What a freak of the conflagration was
this ! But when we rode over to the South Side again what was
our surprise to find intact a frame building that stood just in front
of the barn where the great fire first was started, and which it
had to leap over in order to devour the city beyond. Before
we had reached the North Side I was very much amused with
many of the notices I caught a glimpse of as I galloped past
among the ruins. There was one of a real estate man, who had
been burned out, and who with wonderful enterprise had already
erected a small wooden shanty as an office, upon the ruins of his
former place of business. And this was his sign-board : " All lost,
except my wife, my baby, and my energy." Who dare assert that
that man will ever fail in the struggle of business life ? Another
extraordinary scene I witnessed with no small amount of interest.
The safes of a safe-depository company had the day before been
dug out and opened, and their contents found uninjured ; and, in
answer to an advertisement in the morning papers, there were
right in the ruins before my very eyes, crowds of merchants
hauling ovei' their valuables to be put into the safes amid the

332 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
general wreck. Just think of it — placing your treasure in a safe,
surrounded by a thousand fires, and with the very stones about
cracking from the yet unintensified heat. Still, the guarantee of
a guard of " blue coats " appeared to make the safe investment
all the safer to the merchants. What a confidence in military
authority was there ! But here let me pause, for just at this point
myself and my guide took it into our heads to go back to the
North Side, and go we did! Before we had well left the river ten
blocks to the south the darkness o£ night was upon us. The
wind at the same time began to blow at a fearful rate, and in a
second a dense volume of smoke from the fires to the rear drove
across the river and separated us ; and thus it was that I lost my
way, and had to wander out to the prairies, where I witnessed the
encampment of the refugees.
I lost ray way while taking a horseback ride through the ruins
on Tuesday night. I was on the North Side. It was growing
very late, and I knew not what to do. To turn back would have
exposed me to dangers that I was unwilling to face, even with
Sheridan's guards within a few hundred feet of every street, or
rather roadway, one might traverse; so I chose the less of two
evils, aud made up my mind to keep straight ahead. I knew that
straight ahead meant due north, and that by keeping on I would
be certain to come into "open land" sooner or later; and not
tumble headlong into cellar-ways made bristling with glass and
broken iron by the falling-in of buildings that once sheltered
them. So on I went. It was a long route still, although I thought
that I was at the end of the city7, or what I suppose most people
call the North Side, when I first hesitated about my course ; for I
must have ridden fully twenty blocks afterwards, as I could tell
by the resounding of the horse's feet on the pavemeut that the
so-called prairie was still far out of reach. But this was not all.
I could almost feel the darkness that surrounded me, rather which
confronted me, for behind me wers thousands of coal fires that

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 333
lit up the sky for miles to the south and made the darkness ahead
all the more dense by contrast — and, under the circumstances, my
situation was not very pleasant. How long I continued to ride
at a slow pace — for it was a funeral pace — from the moment I
found the blue fires getting to the rear, I know not ; but this I
do know, it was an age to me. The low rumble of the wind
through the ruins to the south, and the distant hum as of a bustling
city, far, far off to the westward, broken now and then by what I
imagined to be a piercing cry of distress, but which proved to be
the sudden rushing of the wind through the yet standing open
walls of the city that was, made me, it is needless to state, very
anxious to get out of the wilderness of the dead city to the wilder
ness of the prairie itself. Suddenly the horse stumbled under me,
and his hoofs made no longer an echo. At last I knew the un-
worked sod of the prairie had been struck. Cautiously I urged
the beast to go a gentle trot, and in a few seconds came to a very
abrupt halt by running plump against a sort of fence, which some
worthy farmer, as I supposed, had erected to mark off his legiti
mate domain from outside limits. Almost at the same moment
the darkness ahead of us began to clear away as the wind increased
in strength (for it was the smoke from the smouldering fire to the
rear that made the darkness ahead), and there right ahead of me,
within a stone's throw, flashed over the plain a thousand twinkling
lights. What I had not heard before I now heard plainly — the
commingling of many voices, some low and some boisterous, the
clinking of ware, the hallooing in the distance of men to other
men nearer by, and here and there the thud of a hammer or the
creaking of a cart-wheel. Dismounting, I tied the horse to the
fence and jumped to the other side, and began slowly to pick my
way over the field. An instant' afterwards I heard a rustling in
the dead grass a few feet to the right, and then came a clang as of
steel against steel, followed by a loud gruff voice crying out,
"Who goas there?"

33'i HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
I knew by this time that I was among the lots and near the
park where thousands of the refugees had fled for shelter, and a
feeling of relief came over inc. A pass signed by the chivalrous
Forsyth, and endorsed by "Little Phil," made the gruff " Who
goes there?" answer himself a friend of mine, and bid me go where
I listeth. Now that I had got out of the wilderness of a city,
where a silence of the desert reigned supreme, to the wilderness
of the open plains, where everything was bnstle and confusion, I
was at a loss to know how to act, glad as I was to escape from one
to the other. Owing to the darkness I was at firet unable to see
what kind of company I had fallen in with; but as I made a slow
and cautions approach to the nearest light which glimmered dimly
through the chinks of what seemed to be a few planks carelessly
nailed together, my ears were greeted with the cheering sounds
of a woman's voice. It was a low and plaintive voice, broken by
sobs that made my blood grow chill in that out-of-the-way place;
but for all that it made me feel safe. From that moment my ap
prehensions of being attacked in the dark by the night-prowlers
whose numbers the scared citizens had been for twenty-four hours
increasing by hundreds, or falling into a den of encamped fire-
fiends, vanished. I felt that the voice belonged to a woman who
was a sufferer from the great sorrow of the great city, and the
sobbings that came clearer and clearer to my ear as I felt my way
nearer towards the light, were, I felt, my strongest guarantees of
safety. I had got within a few feet of the light when in the dim
distance I e-pied hundreds of forms moving about quietly and
hundreds of others sitting upon the grass, and yet hundreds of
others rolled up like mummies in blankets close to a fence, or
half covered with such tilings as tables and chairs, and, in fact
every kind of household furniture which could be turned into a
temporary roof. .'here were here and there lights, but they were
not many, and as I went up to the first one that I had seen and
exclaimed quite loudly: "Is there anybody here? " Ifclt a cold

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 335
chill creep over me, so still did everything for a second seem about,
although through the misty smoke, driven into the plain by the ever-
changing wind, I could still see the forms of many moving, moving,
moving, never seeming to stand still for a single second, yet no one
saying a word. Need I say that it was quite a relief to me when a
quiet, gentle voice greeted me with "What is wanted?" and the
light of a candle fell upon my face. She was a little girl, not
over twelve years of age, that held the candle, pale as marble,
with large black eyes and a wealth of black hair, all tangled and
neglected, that hung and swung in drifts over her face as the
wind ruthlessly threw it about her shoulders. - She had a blanket
wound about her and was barefooted, and the little feet were
covered with blood. This scene I took in at a glance, and for a
moment I hardly knew what to say to the shivering little crea
ture who stood before me, her teeth chattering with the cold and
her pale face wearing such a pitiful, oh, such a pitiful look!
Presently came from out of the "shelter" — for shelter it was —
composed of a high top buggy with several planks resting against
it and the ground, having to. stoop low as he came, a man about
tliirty years of age, with a lantern in his hand. He was the very
picture of despair. His eyres were swollen ; dark lines under them
gave to them an unnatural, haggard expression, half wdld, half
pleading, and wrinkles that one would expect to find traced on
the face of a very old man alone furrowed the otherwise youthful
face. What passed between us I need not now repeat. Sufficient
it is that m}' horse was secured to the buggy with a halter and
I was permitted to occupy a corner beneath the shelter, after the
man, trying to be humorous in his sorrow, had excused himself for
" not having any blankets in the house."
When I lay down the lantern was still burning, and before it
was extinguished I saw that on the other side of the "house"
were huddled together, under one blanket and an old dress, a
woman and two small children. I thought as I was falling into

330 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
a gentle sleep, with all I had seen during the day passing like
a panorama before my eyes, that I heard the same sobbing that
had attracted my attention a few minutes before, and every now
and then a manly voice soothingly saying, "It will not last
forever." But it may have been a delusion. It was bright
daylight when I awoke, feeling rather stiff and cold, but, after
all, considerably refreshed. The sun had not yet risen, and a
keen, cutting wind swept over the lots, and what I discovered. on
getting up to be a large park adjoining. My kind host and his
little family had risen before me, and had taken the precaution
on going out to throw over me the only blanket visible in the
shelter. It took me quite a while to collect my thoughts at first,
and try to remember where I was and how I had got just where
1 was; but if I had not known anything about my where
abouts before, I certainly was not long left iu ignorance once
I had got outside the " shelter," where I had slept so soundly
all night The sight that met my eyes fairly took my heart
away. If I should live a thousand years I do not think I could
ever efface it from my memory ; and even now as I write, the im
pression it made upon me at the time comes back so strong that
I seem to see staring at me from every quarter of my room the
same pale, haggard, woe-begone faces, the same huddling crowds,
the same weeping women and crying babes, that I beheld on
emerging into the full light of the early morn. Words cannot
describe the scene ; and no one who did not behold it, without
expecting to behold it, as was the case with me, can imagine
anything that could approach the reality. For a moment I stood
rooted to the ground, as it were. My good friend, who had acted
so gracious a part toward me the night before, met me at the
very threshold ; but as I grasped him by the hand in greeting, I
stood speechless before him, the scene that met my gaze beyond
where we both were, striking me with an awe that was unspeak
able. And how could it have been otherwise ? As far as the

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 337
eye could reach was a vast concourse of men, women, and chil
dren, all huddled together over the Park and in the lots, amid
wagons, horses, and carts innumerable. Hundreds were still
lying sound asleep; some with a sort of wooden shelter over
them ; some under tents ; and yet others, and by far the greater
number, with no shelter at all but the canopy of dark smoke that
came wafting along overhead in thick rolling masses, that oue
could almost imagine to hear moving in the air. I fancied, even,
in the midst of all the confusion that I witnessed among those
' who were already up and going about like ghosts from place
to place, seeking apparently for some articles they had mislaid the
night before, that I could tell one family from another, so distinct
in the hustling, bustling crowds that moved here, there, and
everywhere, was each little group from the other. There must
have been on all sides fully 30,000 persons ; and yet one of the
most striking features about the wonderful scene was the absence
of that very thing which, under almost all circumstances, is sup
posed to be inseparable from a large and mixed gathering of men,
women, and children — boisterous noise. There was confusion,
there was pushing and there was crowding in places, there was
talking and there was a moving of wagons and carts from one
place to another; but otherwise over the whole scene reigned
a sad quietness chat reminded me of the quiet crowds I have often
seen at a funeral in a large church. There was not a joyous face
about me. It was in vain that I tried to imagine I heard a laugh
from some group which looked less disconsolate than another;
but in every case the laughter I thought I heard, turned out to
be a wail of anguish. My pen almost refuses to write further of
this terrible evidence of what the disaster had done in one of its
phases — of how it seemed to have stabbed to the heart, without
actually putting out of life, each one of the hundreds that were
within calling distance of my voice, yet every one of whom
seemed as full of physical health as could be. I wandered about

333 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
among the crowds that were walking in little groups and talk
ing in low tones together, feeling as though I were the only
person with life and thought in me, and that all who passed me,
heodli'.-s how I knocked against them or got in their way, were
so many automatons, with power of sorrowful speech only. It
would l>e a futile task for me to attempt to describe the many lit
tle scenes that were so intimately interwoven with the main scene
of the encampment, and which made it the mournful gathering it
was. To the right and left — no matter what way I turned or'
how anxiously I tried to peer beyond the groups for a vacant
space — my searching eyes were met with little knots of men,
women, and children, some sitting, some standing, some lying on
the ground, and all, even to the little prattling ones, wearing a
lock of such supreme sadness that my heart bled as I gazed and
continued to gaze, fascinated in a strange way by the sorrow and
anguish depicted upon every countenance. Did you ever look
upon the face of a man who escapes from a shipwreck and gets to
the shore, knowing that his wife and little ones had gone down,
down nuclei' the pitiless waves, never to rise? Did you ever
notice how, if he be a man of will, he says not a word ; how his
face, pale as the whitest marble, seems to you paler every time
his eye meets the pitiful glare of his neighbor; how the lips
tighten and the hands clench, and he thinks all the while he is
concealing his great sorrow within his own breast? Such was
the look of about every man I came across in this field of woe, for
they had every one of them, it is true, escaped a danger that was
past; but how many — oh, how many, as they wandered about
with that agonizing look upon their faces and turned their eyes
toward the black clouds that hovered over where their homes
were once, were thinking of those loved and dear ones who had
tried to escape when they did, and who are now — God knows
where? What if a child was missing, a wife not found, a sister
t heard from since the roof of the little home fell in, was it not

no

FINS Or- TRIBUNE BUILDING.
Jl-i.ii.tC!U'L^rsifS

GENERAL VIEW OF

J&'M

RUINS OF RUSH 1

SILENT KORI:

CHICAGO WILL RISE AGAIN.

NEW CHICAGO.

RUINS OF FIELD. LEITER Sc CO, '3 STORE.

lEDIf'AL COLLEGE.

,y;yp:,/'

7--- ^aa-y'i

RELIC FOUND IN THE RUINS OF THE CHURCH OF THE HOLY NAME.

TN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 341
almost the same as actual death to them in their great desolation ?
They knew not where those they sought for were ; and the mere
thought that the smouldering ruins which lined the distant road
ways for miles around had hid the missing ones forever from their
sight, was of itself as harrowing as the dread certainty itself.
When I now recall the low, suppressed cries of anguish that
greeted my ears from one shelter after another, as I passed my
mournful way along through crowd after crowd of these victims
of the great disaster ; when the scenes that I beheld come now
vividly back to my mind as I write; of the mothers that I met,
with their babes closely pressed to their bosoms, and refusing,
with a half cry, half shriek, the relief of food that kind hands prof
fered ; of the little children I found lying sleeping sweetly amid
the whole confusion, as though their mothers had not been lost to
them, and other mothers who had lost their own were caring for
them in their stead ; of the men who sat with their heads bowed
on their hands, and swayed to and fro, and looked up at you when
you spoke to them as though they heard you but saw you not ;
of the girls of a tender age who hid behind one another in their
shelter as you passed, lest you would notice that they had reached
the prairies with scarce enough covering to hide their nakedness ;
of the hundreds upon hundreds, that were about me in the
park and out of it, all so sad, all so silent in their sadness, yet
so many crying, strong men, too, crying in a stifling way for
fear wife or child would see them so weak — when I recall all
these things now, is it a wonder that I find difficulty to portray
that terrible scene on the prairie, which probably, after all, had
less of real agony, real suffering about it in itself than any other
sorrow that befell the unfortunate people of Chicago during the
fatal days of last week. Yet in it we saw reflected all the suffer
ing, all the losses, all the heart-breakings, all the trials endured
elsewhere and still to be endured ; and that was what made it
seem to me, and what would have made it seem to any one who
20

342 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
beheld it, the saddest scene of all the sad scenes witnessed during
the wreck of desolation. I had scarcely- the heart, as I went about
among the people, to say a word to any one I met. It was no
place for words of pity, and expressions of sympathy would have
been horrid mockery ; yet occasionally I plucked up courage
enough to speak to a few of the men and women, careful all the
while to speak feelingly of the great misfortune that had befallen
the people, without for a moment making my sympathy look like
pity for their own particular desolations ; for, strange as it may
seem, the more I wandered among these unfortunate, brave-
hearted refugees, the more did I become impressed that they felt
their own sorrow so deeply, that a third person who dared to
express sorrow for them in particular would have been treated to
a quick rebuff. I sat down beside one young man and his wife in
the park, and partook with them of the food which the young
man had procured, I believe, from the place where the Relief
Committee had sent food for distribution. I could not but pity
the poor young wife as she sat with her head upon her hus
band's knees, and her face covered with her hands, while she
cried, oh so bitterly ! And clinging to her were three little chil
dren — one a girl of about seven and another about five, and a
chubby faced boy about two years of age. They were all three
beautiful children, and they seemed to know something awful had
happened, without exactly knowing what, to make "mamma" cry
so. And they toyed with her hair- with their tiny hands, and the
little boy would every now and then put his little arms round the
mother's neck, place his lips against her cheek, and murmur :
" Don't ki, mamma, don't Id."
Do you wonder that the man gulped down his food chokingly
when ho beheld this? I more than once saw him turn his head
from me and wipe his eyes with his sleeve. I got into conversa-^
tion with him after awhile, and he said to me, as I rose to go:
" Well, sir, it can't be helped. I had a home and was worth

IN CHICAGO AND TOE WEST. 343
$10,000 a day or two ago, and now here's all I've got between me
and the grave ;" and he put his hands in his pockets and showed
me a two-dollar bill ; and then pointing to his wife and children,
and smiling through his tears, he exclaimed, as he laid his hand
softly on his wife's covered head: "Thank God, I have not lost
these. I am better off than many."
Thi3 was but one of many instances of the same kind I came
across in the camp ; but now let me draw a veil over the picture.
It is too sad even to think about. Thank God, most of the
" campers" are now housed, and, let us hope, the time is not far
distant when they will one and all have their own homes again.
But what, oh what of those whose now missing ones are destined
never to return ?
" Sorrow never comes single spies, but in battalions," is Shak-
speare's observation on human life, which many men find true to
the last letter. And often a city attacked, as ours has been, be
comes the field where those battalions deploy and assault success
fully what remains of human joy and pride. Among several
instances of the accumulation of disasters, we read the follow
ing: —
Dr. Henrotin, who lived on the North Side a little more than a
fortnight ago, was among the thousands who were compelled to
pull up stakes and fly before the fiery breath of the great confla
gration. He succeeded in accomplishing no less than six different
moves, leaving some goods at every fancied place of security,
until at last he found he had nothing left him but his family
and a horse and buggy. He had congratulated himself on saving
the horse and buggy, for the reason that both were of a superior
quality. His horse he had refused to part with for a large sum of
money, and he put a high valuation on the vehicle. On Saturday
he was driving along Ashland avenue, and, when about to cross
the railroad track, found a locomotive almost upon him. The
signalman's hat and a long line of fence had intercepted the view,

344 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
nor did the signalman think proper to show himself until the
locomotive was close up. The horse was frightened, leaped across
the track; threw the Doctor out of his buggy, smashed the vehi
cle to sticks and shreds, ran like a streak to Western avenue,
plunged his head against a curbstone, and broke his neck.. The
Doctor had, on the previous day, invested in a pair of cheap shoes,
which saved him from injury, as the lines caught round his heel.
He would doubtless have been dragged some distance had not the
cheap heel come oft'. .. it ,
A New York paper describes a Fire-wedding : — . • . ,, -; -,-
Chicago (October 18). — Among all the pictures of " Chicago
as it is " which have been photographed with the pen, I wonder
whether any one has seen the chronicle of a " Fire-Wedding " —
a wedding whose whole aspect and circumstances were so altered
by the fire as to be inextricably connected with it forever after
in the minds of the lookers-on. There was such a wedding in
our poor desolated North Side the other day. The first house
outside of the burned district on the north contained a most
motley crowd for several days after the fire, for the owner had
received everybody, high and low, till the house would have
furnished excellent material for a new "Decameron" or "Can
terbury Ttd.es,'' if the fire had only unearthed a modern Boccac
cio or Chaucer. As it was, wonderful stories flew about, rather
monotonous as to tone, but evidently diversified as to incident :
" Have you seen the three-days'-old baby in the barn : they
picked it up with the mother in the park." " That German,
covered up with greatcoats, on the corner, was found almost dead
with cold and exposure." " Three men have just come in who
have had but four soda-crackers between them since Sunday, and
this is Wednesday morning." And so on, till one of our couriers
brought in a story before which the others' paled their ineffectual
fires. A friend had just told him of meeting a woman, duripw
the fire on Monday, who was struggling along under a heary

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 345
bundle wrapped in a sheet. Offering to help her, she said :
" Do you know what is in here ? God help me ! the bodies of
my two children, who were suffocated in the fire ; but I could
not leave them to burn." The atmosphere was full of startling
and blood-curdling rumors, and every hour brought a new excite
ment. Incendiarism was said to be rampant ; frightful and
summary vengeance was reported as meted out to even supposed
evil-doers. The house had twelve revolvers, loaded and capped,'
arranged on the parlor windows every night, and no one thought >
of sleeping in a house not guarded by a patroL'i^}.t'~ '? v;»'-> /W- '
" So, when it was whispered about -that sweet Minnie T ' '] a
relative of our host, and who was to have been married according
to the strictest sect of the fashionables, if Superior street had not
been burned, would really carry out her intention and take the
holy vows on the twelfth, the house was in the wildest excite
ment. How could they get a license? how find a clergyman?
The trousseau was burned ; the intended guests were burned out ;
the caterers and florists had neither flowers nor food. How
could a fashionable young lady make up her mind to be married
without these things ? But she did ! And what was more,
being a girl of exceeding sweetness and womanliness, she did
not seem to care a whit about her lost splendors. Thursday
came, and with it a tremendous sweeping and dusting of the
house of refuge ; for, let me tell you that a running fire of run
ning guests does not leave a house swept and garnished, but
quite the contrary. A license had been obtained, and Minnie's
own burnt-out clergyman had come to marry her, but what
should be done for decorations ? The large house-parlor had
never been furnished, and there was not even a mantelpiece in
the room. But it seemed as if the fire had developed as much
feminine ingenuity as it had destroyed feminine property. Theo
dore Winthrop said that if the order had been given in the
Seventh New York Kegiment, " Poets to the front," a goodly

346 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
company would have answered to the call ; and so now a call for
decorators of burned property brought a perfect rush of talent to
the- rescue In the unsightly chimney-hole was placed an inverted
soap-box, covered with a crimson cloth. On this sat a tall slop-
jar, cribbed from a bedroom, filled with lovely crimson and green
autumn leaves. To be sure, a slop-jar is not per se a handsome
ornament; but then some refugee had left a magnificent stag's
head and antlers, wliich, set up in front of the objectionable
crockery, left nothing to be desired. A white cravat, lost by
some city exquisite, who probably found it was impossible to
save both that and his neck, tied more autumn leaves into a true-
lover's knot of colossal size, and hung high in the pier. Branches
of richest color filled all sorts of niches and corners, and the
room was declared magnificent. Some one, however, suggested
that there was no sort of table or altar for the minister's use.
But fortune favors the brave ; a pair of library steps was pro
duced from somewhere, and a sheet pinned around them.
Another treasure-trove was a scarlet cloth in illuminated work,
with the motto, " Cast thy care upon Him, for He careth .for
thee." Our little white altar, with this pinned to the front face,
and surmounted by a big Bible and prayer-book, made a very
canonical appearance indeed.
Then the room was ready and we had a rehearsal. But, alas !
what bride and groom of the present day could kneel on a bare
floor and get up again gracefully ? In vain blocks of wood, box
es, and books were tried — one was too high, another too low. At
last a bright thought came — carriage cushions ! For it must be
said that in burned Chicago now there are forty carriages and
pairs of horses to one house, as these first were mostly saved ; so
that beggars ride where beggars never rode before. Four cush
ions were brought from the barn, and an Afghan converted them
into a lovely hassock. As it is (or was) impossible in these days
to have a wedding without showing " the presents," a vine-wrea ;h-

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 347
ed table in one corner held a most elaborate display. A beautiful
jewel-case contained what was set forth as the bridegroom's gift —
a set of exquisite pearls, wliich you had to look at very nearly to
discover that they were moulded from the fine white ravellingsof
cotton cloth. Other cases contained sets of pickle-forks, preserve-
spoons, and so forth, cut out in pasteboard, with mouldings and
monograms in lead-pencil. Valuable jewelry was plenty, only
unfortunately the lava earrings had been dug out once too often, r
and the cameos looked very black and queer round the edges.' rA '•
pewter table-spoon, a german-silver fork,-and some valuable aids ¦¦-
to housekeeping in the broom and dust-pat line^ Completed the '
array, which certainly was unique, and interested the spectators
much more than the usual show. But when it came to dressing ;
the bride, serious difficulties occurred. Her wedding-dress and
veil had never come from Field & Leiter's. Never mind, she had
a white cambric morning-dress, which, looped over a nice petti
coat, would make her slender figure look lovely, and her married
sister had saved her own wedding veil. Some simple white flow
ers from a neighbor's yard took the place of orange blossoms, and
a set of pearls was borrowed from a friend who had brought them
out of the fire in her hands. As for stockings, handkerchiefs, etc.,
the various guests provided these from among them. So the pret
ty bride looked, after all, as sweet as a rose, and the long-laid-
awaj' tulle veil became her soft, fair locks to a charm. The
groom was dressed in borrowed clothes from head to foot, as was
the first bridesmaid, while the brother who gave away the bride
complained that he, being five feet nine, was obliged to borrow
the dress suit of a man who stood six feet six in his stockings, and
that consequently, when he stepped forward to perform his broth
erly duty, he was obliged to take a reef in bis habiliments to
prevent falling over on his nose. At last all was ready. I wonder
if just such an assemblage ever met together at a wedding before.
There were about forty guests, all but one of whom had been

343 HISTORY OF TOE GREAT FIRES
driven from their houses by the actual presence of fire— the bride
and groom had hastened their wedding so as to go away together
amonir friends who could shelter and help them. The minister
who married them had promised his congregation that he would
stay among them, and work with his hands if necessary, being
bereft of all lie had in the world. And this was all that was left
of one of the richest congregations in the richest city of the West.
But never have I seen among rich or poor a sweeter and more
holy-seeming wedding ; and when, after the solemn words were
said, the congregation, at a sign from the minister, dropped on
their knees and offered a solemn thanksgiving to the Almighty for
their preservation through the horrors of the last few dreadful days,
broken voices and tender heartfelt tones attested the reality of the
service. And so the warm biscuit and cold water that stood for
wedding-cake and wine were partaken of with a plentiful season
ing of cheerful words and even jests, and all felt that to be poor
in such good company robbed ruin of half its sting.
Before closing this chapter of incidents and individual experi
ences, we must allow the Fire Marshal, Mr. Williams, to give his
vindication of himself, which was addressed to the Editor of the
Tribune : —
Sm: You. as well as the readers of your paper perhaps, have
wondered somewhat at the non-appearance of a card from me, as
Fire Marshal, relative to the late conflagration. I deemed it best
to wait until the excitement and bustle had quieted a little, and
the community had time to settle again. I have noticed and
read the suggestions and articles in regard to the '"" man Williams."
The authors of those extracts being so modest as not to sign their
names, I cannot hope to see them individually, but take this
method of extending to them my heartfelt thanks for the " praise
and honor" they so kindly and profusely bestowed" upon me in
the high and noble manner in which they have done.
They should have considered well the difficulties that the Fire

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 349
Department had to encounter on that dreadful night before try
ing to "comment" upon it. They had just passed through a
severe fire twenty-four Hours previous, and part of the companies
had left the scene of the old fire but a few hours when they were
called again, tired and worn out from hours of hard labor, to
another still more fearful than the one they had just dealt with.
While we were working on the original fire, which was sur
rounded and under our control, the fearful gale which was raging
at the time, carried not only sparks but brands and pieces of
boards on fire, the distance of two to- four squares. "To our sur
prise we were informed that a church pver* two .blocks to the
north was on fire. We were then obliged to form a new base of
operations to protect the property around the burning church.
While thus engaged in staying the fiery elemeht, which we also
conquered and had under our control, we were again informed that
the fire had taken another leap, and had broken out in the match
factory, lumber yard, and shingle mills of W. B. Bateham.
People living in the vicinity had carried out bedding, furniture,
etc., into the street for safety, which was soon all ablaze. The
strong wind carried the burning material to the east side of
Canal street, communicating the fire to the wooden structures
on that side of the street ; these buildings being elevated to the
height of five to seven feet above the ground, together with the
sidewalk, formed a complete tunnel, and the draught carried the
flames for a whole square without meeting even the resistance of
a common board partition. In the mean time the intense heat
drove us, and we were compelled to remove some of our appara
tus, which occupied quite a length of time ; also losing consider
able hose. During this time the fire made fearful progress, and
while trying to rescue one of the steamers from its dangerous
situation, it was discovered that the fire had crossed to the South
Division, into the second street east of the river. I immediately
ordered part of tho Department, and went myself to the new field

350 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FUtES
of action. On my arrival there, I found not only a few buildings
on fire, but the largest portion of two squares. So rapid did the
fire spread, that the wooden buildings on Qnincy street, the Ar
mory building, the square known as " Conley's Patch" (all com
posed of wooden shells), the Gas Works, and the roofing material
yard of Barrett, Arnold & Powell, were one sheet of flame in a
short space of time. This yard being composed of combustible
material, together with the Gas Works, threw out a terrific heat,
more especially after the gas was allowed to escape to prevent an
explosion and the destruction of the works. Through the agency
of the burning of this yard, large fire-brands, composed of tar
and pitch felting some two or three feet in length, were whirled
through the air for a number of blocks, and would alight on some
building, and hardly a minute would elapse before the whole
structure would be involved in one mass of fire, thus starting in
different parts of the city what you might call different fires, and
all burning at the same time.
I rallied the greater part of my force to the South Side, but it
was of no avail. The wind blew so hard at this period as to cut
a solid stream of water into spray before it had gone the dis
tance of twenty feet from the pipe. The fire made such rapid
headway that we were constantly compelled to move some of
our steamers to save them from destruction, and by so doing lost
large quantities of our hose, so much so that we were soon short
of a supply.
When at work at Monroe street, I was informed that the flames
were in our rear as far as Madison street. I immediately repaired
to that street, and found that a large building, known as the Ori
ental Block, was on fire in the rear, and in a few minutes the
entire block was enwrapped in a sea of burning matter. The
next to be seized in the embrace of the fire-fiend was the Court-
House and Chamber of Commerce buildings, which burned very
wickedlv.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 351
Shortly after this I received intelligence that the Water Works
were on fire. I then had no hope whatever of staying the flames.
Nearly four years ago, when I was appointed Fire Marshal, in
my estimate of wants for the Fire Department I recommended
to the Board of Police the necessity of having one or more " Float
ing Fire Engines," for the protection of the property along the
river. They acquiesced in my recommendation, and asked foi
an appropriation to purchase the -same, but without success.
They have made several attempts since to obtain the necessary
appropriation. This floating engine, lor, engines, would have
done much in stopping our late great fire,, as there could be two
powerful pumps on board of each, throwing two or three streams
of water, which would have been sufficient to keep wet the build
ings on the sides of the river for a number of squares, and in pro
tecting the elevators.
The public are probably aware of the fact that the foot of our
streets are leased from time to time for dock purposes, which has
always interfered with the Fire Department in obtaining a sup
ply of water from the river. We have been deprived of the use of
these docks, and also of the floating engines, which we have had
occasion to regret in this as in many other instances, as either
would have rendered great aid to the department.
One other circumstance that has greatly crippled our Fire De
partment, is the scanty supply of hose purchases from year to
year ; also an insufficient number of flre engines. I have always
failed to obtain the amount of hose I have asked for from time
to time, as in the case of the present year I requested 15,000 feet,
which was small enough an amount for the number of fires we
are having in Chicago (amounting to nearly 700 during the last
year) Instead of allowing me the full amount, I was cut down
one- third, and allowed 10,000 feet. I was also cut short of one
additional steamer.
After all this, it has been stated by one of your correspondents

352 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
that, had there been some engines placed upon flat-boats, canal-
boats, or scows, and propelled in the river by the aid of tugs,
it would have prevented the flre from crossing. Allow me to
ask, where were those scows ? We tried to obtain one to enable
us to extinguish the coal fires; none were to be found this side
of Bridgeport, and it took from four to five hours to obtain it.
What time did the Fire Marshal have to hunt scows and flat-
boats at that stage of the fire ?
Correspondents in different papers have asked why the Fire
Department did not do thus and so ? Why did not the people
try to protect their buildings from sparks and embers as did
the watchman at the crib in the Lake ? Instead of standing in
the way, and finding fault with the Fire Department, the drought
of the season, the state of the atmosphere, and the high gale,
thev should have turned their attention to the roofs of buildings.
How could the firemen be battling the fire and watching build
ings squares in their rear ?
To a careful reader of the Marshal's letter it becomes evident
that discontent exists in the public mind ; and, accordingly, as
after a great battle, the vanquished frequently' fall into disagree
ments, bickerings, and mutual criticism, so also now every one is
ready- to justify himself, if his neighbor suffers in the result, and
many seek to cast blame upon parties who did the best they could
in the peculiar and trying circumstances. The Fire Department
suffered a great defeat ; but their enemies were peculiarly power
ful, and they were wearied out by a previous day and night's
struggle. Instead of ill-natured invective or attempts to shirk
responsibility, there should be a calm determination to learn from
experience how to avoid the recurrence of similar disasters.
Such is the end the practical Chicagoans will reach.
And now must close this long chapter of personals, which have
served to reveal the breadth and characteristics of that suffering
which was experienced by the multitudes, who went forth home-

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 353
less and impoverished on the evening of the 8th and the morning
of the 9th of October, 1871.

CHAPTER XXV.
" This kingly Wallenstein, whene'er he falls,
Will drag a world to ruin down with him ;
And as a ship that in the midst of ocean
Catches fixe, and shivering springs into the air,
And in a moment scatters between sea and sky
The crew it bore, so will he hurry to destruction
Ev'ry one whose fate was joined with his." >
' - - - ¦ — Schiller.
It is now in place to mention, more definitely and comprehen
sively, the losses, by this calamity, of property and life.
This city and its interests are intimately bound up with those
of the whole world. The losses by the fire were not local but
well-nigh universal. The representatives of all nations were here,
and of all States and communities in North America — the busi
ness world were here by their money or agencies, and the fall of
Chicago sent a tremor throughout the whole fabric of society.
This may account, in part, for the uprising of all Christendom to
assist in the terrific exigency, and roll away the burden that was
crushing us into the dust.
It is scarcely possible to visit a city or enterprising village in
our own country, or certain parts of Europe, without meeting per
sons, many or few, who say we have friends who suffered, or we
ourselves have lost, by the great conflagration. Our population
was not native to the soil, and our capital was largely from abroad.
As a place for investment of funds none was deemed preferable ;
and this drew heavily upon the resources of men who had money
to spare in all parts of the country. Insurance companies had
sought this field in great numbers, and their losses have been

3.J-i HISTORY OF TOE GREAT FIRES
very widely felt. The home companies, having their assets very
considerably, or perhaps entirely, in property burned, and the
stockholders themselves being comparatively helpless from their
private losses, are unable to pay their policy-holders, and have
lost their own capital and business.
The following tables furnish an exhibit of all the companies
doiii" business in Chicairo There is a larsre number which have
O w o
no connection witli this city, and do not require to be named here.
The latest data enable us to furnish a very full and accurate
statement of the capital, gross assets, and losses of such as have
offices and representatives in this city : —
NEW TORE COMPANIES. Gross Assets,
Name. Capital. Jan. 1, 1871. Losses.
.Etna, City  $300,000 $442,709 $660,000*
Adriatic, City  200,000 246,120 8,500
Albany City Albany  200,000 397,646 800,000*
American, City    200,000 741,405 25,000
American Exchange, City  200,000 277,350 58,000
Astor, City  250,000 405,571 400,000*
Atlantic, City  300,000 556,179 600,000*
Beokman, City  200,000 261,851 350,000*
Buffalo City, Buffalo  200,000 370,934 600,000*
Buffalo Fire and Marine, Buffalo  304,222 473,577 625,000"
Buffalo German, Buffalo  200,000 270,081 5,000
Capital City, Albany  200,000 293,766 270,000*
Citizens, City  300,000 6S4,798 35,000
Columbia. City  300,000 451,332 3,000
Commerce, Albany   400,000 692,877 400,000
Commerce Fire, City  200,000 249,372 25,000
Commercial, City  200,000 306,002 5,000
Continental. City  500,000 2,538,038 1,000,000
Corn Exchange. City  300,000 398,986 55,000
Excelsior, City  200,000 335,724 600,000*
Exchange, City  150,000 183,959 3,500
Firemen's, City  204,000 359,961 15,000
Firemen's Fund, City  150,000 173,477 25,000
• Suspended.

IN CHICAGO AHD THE WEST.

355

Name. Capital
Firemen's Trust, City  $150,000
Fulton, City  200,000
Germania, City  500,000
Glens Falls, Glens Falls  200,000
Guardian, City  200,000
Hanover, City  400,000
Hoffman, City  200,000
Home, City  ...2,500,000.
Howard, City  500,000
Humboldt, City  200,000
Importers and Traders', City  200,000
International, City  500,000 7.
Irving, City  200,000
Jefferson, City  '  200,010
Kings County, City  150,000
Lafayette, L. 1, City  150,000
Lamar, City  300,000 ¦
Lenox, City  150,000
Lorfllard, City  1,000,000
Manhattan, City  500,000
Market, City  200,000
Mechanics', L. I., City  150,000
Mechanics and Traders', City  200,000
Mercantile, City  200,000
Merchants', City  200,000
National, City  200,000
New Amsterdam, City  300,000
New York Fire, City  200,000
Niagara, City  1,000,000
North American, City  500,000
Pacific, City  200,000
Phenix, L. I., City  1,000,000
Relief, City  200,000
Republic, City  300,000
Resolute, City  200,000
Security, City  1,000,000
Sterling, City.  200,000
* Suspended.

Gfross Assets,
Jan. 1, 1871.

Losses.

$226,269 363,002

$5,000
900,000*

1,077,849 571,123

226,500 13,000

279,688

40.000

700,335

225,000

235,242

80,000

 •.,4,578.008
....,.,783,851 ,:¦
i...,, 351,186 ;>
'.':. ,;::.'802,589

2,000,000
; 275,000
,,, .24,000
: 22,500

>.'.''j'.i-,829,476 .

.600,000

... .821,745

550,000*

......411,155  262,573214,751
551,402

„ 42,500 31,000 7,500
450,000*

240,801
1,715,909

32,000
1,500,000*

1,407,788 704,684

1,250,000*
1,000,000*

218,047

22,500

460,002

41,500

273,399

100,000

442,690

10,000

282,071

37,500

432,638

200,000

392,278

15,000

1,304,567

225,000

770,305

720,000*

443,557

12,500

1,890,010

350,000

310,908

40,000

683,478

225,000

252,452

75,000

1,880,333 247,027

l,fi00,000* 7,500

356 niSTOKY OF THE GEEAT FIEES Gross Assets,
Name. Capital. Jan. 1, 1871. Losses.
Tradesmen's, City  §150,000 $423,181 $25,000
Washington, City  400,000 774,411 900,000*
Western of Buffalo, Buffalo  300,000 582,547 750,000*
Williamsburg City. City  250,000 539,692 60,000
Yonkers and New York, City  500,000 868,933 700,000*
MISSOURI CO_t_PA_SIE_L
American Central. St. Louis  $231,370 $254,875 $275,000
Anchor, St. Louis  105,225 121,974 27,000
Boatmen's, St. Louis  106,530 51,786 20,000
Citizens', St. Louis.  175,000 271,373 25,000
Commercial, St. Louis  40,660 43,896 20,000
Excelsior, St. Louis  73,087 19,815 15,000
Globe Mutual, St. Louis  125,000 ' 150,793 65,000*
Jefferson, St. Louis  101,272 121,842 10,000
Marine, St. Louis  150,000 210,925 10,000
Merchants', St. Joseph  60,636 79,682 10,000
National, Hannibal  111,201 147,738 10,000
North Missouri, Macon  134,050 154,166 21,500
Pacific. St. Louis  25,000 36,835 10,000
Phoenix, St. Louis  108,950 126,654 10,000
St. Joseph, St. Joseph  64,000 105,729 10,000
St. Louis, St. Louis  240,000 307,342 15,000
State, Hannibal  109,820 162,099 21,500
MASSACHUSETTS COMPANIES.
Bay State, Worcester  $104,800 $196,275 $5,000
Boylston, Boston  300,000 933,256 13,000
City. Boston  200,000 399,427 15,000
Eliot, Boston  300,000 672,212 12,500
Firemen's, Boston  300,000 1,038,330 35,000
First National, Worcester  100,000 157,356 2,500
Franklin, Boston  300,000 541,908 50,000
Hide and Leather, Boston.  300,000 419,211 720 000*
Howard. Boston  200,000 358,642 27,500
Independent. Boston  300.000 040,648 1,100,000*
Lawrence, Boston  250,000 202,502 10,000
* Suspended.

£t E-t
C o:
K t=E-%O

« taHPa O B,-t 6..5M
O

EM CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 359
Cash Cross Assets,
Name. Capital. Jan. 1, 1871. Losses.
Manufacturers', Boston  $400,000 $1,480,464 $120,000
Merchant's, Boston. ...  500,000 958,559 10,000
National, Boston  300,000 821,840 400,000
Neptune, Boston  300,000 852,195 60,000
New England Mutual M, Boston. .. . 200,000 1,080,973 1,000,000*
North American. Boston  200.000 601,747 10,000
People's, Worcester  400,000 887,756 300,000
Shoe and Leather Dealers', Boston. . . 200,000 549,806 25,000
Springfield, Springfield  600,000  930,101 450,000
Suffolk, Boston  150,000  ,283,288 ;.,.>. 23,000
Tremont, Boston  200,000, ...,.,, 294,543 .y 70,000
Washington, Boston  800,000.,.,,'. 985,975 25,000
HHODE ISLAKD COMPAHIBfl
American, Providence  $200,000 $374,969 $600,000*
Atlantic, Providence  200,000 326,014 325,000*
City, Providence  50,000 72,150 7,500
Hope, Providence  150,000 211,673 325,000*
Merchants', Providence  200,000 372,199 15,000
Narragansett, Providence  500,000 792,947 25,000
Providence Washington, Providence.. 200,000 415,149 550,000*
Roger Williams, Providence  200,000 278,966 225,000*
OHIO COMPANIES.
Alemannia. Cleveland  $250,000 $285,555 $175,000
American, Cincinnati  100,000 125,513 12,500
Andes, Cincinnati  1,000,000 1,203,425 850,000
Burnett, Cincinnati  60,000 75,369 2,500
Butler, Hamilton  14,000 22,322 
Capital City, Columbus  60,000 78,000 
Central, Columbus  40,000 55,541 
Central, Dayton  20,833 29,896 
Cincinnati, Cincinnati  150,000 209,223 60,000
Citizens', Cincinnati  52,500 67,690 25,000
Cleveland, Cleveland  414,400 530,208 700,000*
Commercial, Cincinnati  100,000 158,937 13,000
Commercial Mutual, Cleveland  210,210 349,624 400,000*
_ , * Suspended.

3G0 HISTORY OF THE GEEAT FIEES
Casli Gross Assets,
Name. Capital. Jan. 1, 1871. Losses.
Cooper, Dayton  $23,800 $32,527 
Eelip.e, Cincinnati  27,350 4G,067 $2,500
Farmers'. Cincinnati  23,360 24,142 10,000
Farmers'. .Tcllov.-ay  100.000 131,626 
Farmers & Merchants', Dayton  32.000 55,770 
Farmers, Mer. it Mfctrs.', Hamilton. 100,000 123,366 
Firemen's, Cincinnati  100, 000 225,600 29,500
Firemen's, Dayton  100,000 126,893 
Franklin, Cincinnati  100,000 132,465 65,000
Franklin, Columbus  70,000 88,071  ..'
German, Cleveland  200,000 281,260 436,657*
German, Dayton  22,500 28,347 
Germania, Cincinnati  100,000 127,858 3,500
Gcrmania, Toledo  45,000 54,500 7,000
Globe. Cincinnati  100,000 178,143 40,000
Hamilton. Hamilton  17,500 41,620 
Hibemia, Cleveland  200.000 225,000 360,000*
Home, Columbus  500,000 637,947 300,000
Homo, Toledo  09,000 76,335 
Jefferson, Steubenville  43,392 60,032 
Merchants & Manufrs.', Cincinnati... 150,000 206,780 14,500
Miami Valley, Cincinnati  100,000 141,094 15,000
Miami Valley. Dayton  26,100 51,133 
Mutual, Toledo  90,000 90,249 3,000
National, Cincinnati  100,000 120,514 3,000
Ohio, ChiUicothc  40,000 49,092 
Ohio, Dayton  35,282 54,818 
Ohio Valley. Cincinnati  50,TG0 79,921 32,000
People's, Cincinnati  20,000 48,928 5,000
Sun, Cleveland  200,000 301,340 175,000
Teutonia, Cleveland  200,000 237,016 1,000,000*
Teutonia, Dayton  25,000 46,572 
Toledo, Toledo  75,000 105,837 
Union, Cincinnati  100,000 130,845 27,500
Washington, Cincinnati  129,100 148,747 21,000
Western, Cincinnati  100,000 178 550 31,000
* Suspended.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 361
Cash Gross Assets,
Name. Capital. Jan. 1, 1871. Losses.
CALIFORNIA COMTANIE3.
Firemen's Fund, San Francisco  $500,000 $799,027 $300,000
Occidental, San Francisco  300,000 474,095 300,000
Pacific, San Francisco  1,000,000 1,777.267 1,500,000
People's, San Francisco  300,000 500,000 400,000
Union, San Francisco  750,000 1,115,574 450,000
MICHIGAN COMPASIEa
Detroit Fire & Marine, Detroit  $150,000 _v -,,$273,063 "•" $175,000
.«.„,.-. ... '-",'• -,'," ¦'" '• *: ; ¦¦-"¦'¦ >*<¦¦. \
Illinois companies.  •._!•>, ¦).;•. y. ... ~,i,;i,,-':
American, Chicago  $150,000 $548,875 $1,000
Aurora, Aurora.  200,000 220,471 ......*
Chicago Fire, Chicago  101,800 131,566 3,000,000*
Chicago Firemen's, Chicago  200,000 372,544 3,000,000*
Commercial, Chicago  180,000 266,535 3,000,000*
Equitable, Chicago  100,000 120,191 3,000,000*
Fanners', Freeport  100,000 191,303 
Garden City, Chicago  150,000 181,489 2,000,000*
German, Freeport  101,000 119,824 
German Ins. & Sav's Co., Quincy  132,900 158,951 
Gcrmania, Chicago  200,000 257,821 1,500,000*
Great Western, Chicago  222,831 274,125 227,000
Home, Chicago  200,000 245,338 2,000,000*
Illinois Mutual, Alton. . .  113,000 350,010 1,100,000*
Knickerbocker, Chicago  160,000 170,129 750,000*
Merchants', Chicago  500,000 878,252 G,000,000*
Mutual Security, Chicago  118,325 145,584 1,800,000*
Republic, Chicago  998,200 1,132,812 3,500,000*
Rockford, Rockford  100,000 235,442 
State, Chicago  425,000 4G0,000 3,000,000*
MARYLAND COMPANTE&
Maryland, Baltimore. . . . :  $200,000 $251,157 $12,000
Merchants & Mechanics', Baltimore.. 250,000 324,208 290,000*
National, Baltimore  100,000 224,000 33,165
* Suspended.

362 HISTORY OF THE GEEAT FIRES
Cash Gross Assets,
Name. Capital. Jan. 1, 1871. Losses.
Peabody, Baltimore  $125,000 $190,388 $10,000
People's, Baltimore  100,000 113,094 17,000
Potomac. Baltimore  75.651 97,209 10,000
Union, Baltimore  100,000 164,986 25,000
Washington. Baltimore  100,000 121,804 
CONNECTICUT COMPANIES.
iEtna, Hartford  $3,000,000
City, Hartford  250,000
Charter Oak, Hartford  150,000
Connecticut, Hartford  200,000
Fairfield County, Norwalk  200,000
Hartford, Hartford  1,000,000
Merchants', Hartford  200,000
North American, Hartford  300,000
Norwich, Norwich  300,000
Phcenix, H_Crtford  600,000
Putnam, Hartford  500,000
MAINE COMPANIES.
Eastern, Bangor  $150,000 $237,648 $7,500
National. Bangor  200,000 241,308 17,500
Union, Bangor  200,000 421,205 5,000
PENNSYLVANIA COMPANIES.
Alleghany, Pittsburg  $50,000 
Allemania, Pittsburg  50,000 
Alps. Erie  250,000 $265,524 $185,000
Artisan's, Pittsburg  64,000  
Ben. Franklin, Allegheny  2,000  
Boatmen's, Pittsburg  125,000 
Cash. Pittsburg  100,000  
Citizens', Pittsburg  100,000  
Enterprise, Philadelphia  200,000 611,654 825,000*
Enterprise, Pittsburg  25,000   v.
Eureka, Pittsburg  175,000  ;
* Suspended,

$5,782,635

$2,500,000

554,287

650,000*

251,951

400,000*

405,069

600,000*

216,358

25,000

2,737,519

1,200,000

540,096

1,000,000*

456,503

800,000*

381,736

350,000*

1,717,947

800,000

785,783

1,000,000*

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 363
Cash Gross Assets,
Name. Capital. Jan. 1, 1871. Losses.
Federal, Alleghany  $20,000  
Franklin, Philadelphia  400,000 $3,087,452 $500,000
German, Pittsburg  50,000  
Girard, Philadelphia  200,000
Ins. Co. of N. America, Philadelphia. . 500,000
Ins. Co. State of Pa., Philadelphia. . . 200,000
Lancaster, Lancaster  200,000
Lycoming, Muncy  Mutual
Mnnnf ac'ra & Merchants', Pittsburg. . . ¦ 125,000
MonoDgahela, Pittsburg  140,000 , ,
National, Alleghany  50,000
Pennsylvania, Pittsburg  115,800 '.''
People's, Pittsburg  76,000
Pittsburg, Pittsburg  100,000
Western, Pittsburg  98,000

403,062

13,000

8,050,536

500,000

542,908

25,000

250,349

34,000
616,896
500,000
>;_.,•:•-.-:;
r» / '¦ 1 1 i
>t)'.',r-'"'i
<_.//
>"¦".- ,+i,|,7
l- -SM
'.-_./» ' r, , '-
WISCONSIN COMPANIEa
Brewers' Protective, Milwaukee  $164,175 .$183,681 $200,000
Northwestern National, Milwaukee... 150,000 191,202 90,000
MINNESOTA COMPANIES.
St. Paul Fire and Marine, St. Paul  $120,000 $280,593 $100,000
FOREIGN COMPANIES.
Commercial Union.  $1,250,000
Imperial  3,500,000
Liverpool it London and Globe  1,958,760
North British & Mercantile  1,350,000
Royal  1,444,475
It will be seen that the United States companies have lost
SS2.S2 1,122; the foreign, $5,813,000; and grand total of losses
by all companies is $S8,634r,122. Such a sum is almost incom
prehensible, or altogether beyond the adequate grasp of any
human mind. In this connection it is curious to observe how
the stable institutions at once received an increase of business
almost incredible, and hope to place themselves upon a more
$4,000,000
$65,000
5,438,065
150,000
20,136,420
3,500,000
4,104,598
2,000,000
9,274,776
98,000
oGi HISTORY OF TnE GREAT FIRES
solid foundation, which shall be practically immovable. Here is
another illustration of the old truth — " To him that hath shall
be given, and he shall have abundance ; but from him that'hath
not shall be taken even that which he seemeth to have." This
was also verified in the case of the elevators that survived.
Their grain belonged to merchants who held checks for it. In
many, perhaps most instances, these checks were destroyed, and
the grain belongs to the elevator companies. Thus they must
become immensely rich. In some instances, where the checks
were not wholly burned up, Professor "Wheeler, of the "University
of Chicago, took these charred and obliterated checks, and, by a
chemical process, restored the numbers to a momentary exist
ence, and enabled the owner to recover the property. Laying
the thin black slip of paper on a plate, he passed a liquid over it,
which burned all but the writing and printing, and gave the eye
a flying glimpse sufficient to indicate the contents. This fact
reminds us of the almost utter worthlessness of safes not pro
tected by vaults. It was sad to see these vaunted t: safes"
turn out so generally unsafe. " If my safe is all right," said
one man, " I am worth ten thousand dollars." He opened it,
and instantly, so intense was the heat, all the contents flamed up
under, the draft of fresh air, and consumed before his eyes, and
under his grasp. Probably there was no difference in the pow-
erlessness of safes to resist that burning. My attorney's safe,
containing my papers, fell into the coal bin, and lay there roast
ing like a chestnut, till everything was just in a condition to be
blown away by a breath. Some things from some safes in favor
able positions were preserved. The little lire box within, in a
few instances, appeared to attract heat, and left the contents in
A worse condition than those that were outside of it. Men
will hereafter trust to nothing less substantial than brick vaults,
built underground, or upon foundations that rest on the solid

IS CHICAGO A_ST) THE WEST. 3G5
earth. Iron columns twisted and fell, and ruined the vaults they
supported, and their contents.
A. curious paragraph is worth preserving, to show how the
government deals with the charred currency.
"I wandered into the Treasury Department a day or two ago
to ask General Spinner to let me see what was being done with
the charred money from Chicago. I was shown to the room
occupied by the ladies employed on the burned money ; shall I
call it cinder-cates ? This room is very large and pleasant, and
was selected because, having a southern 'exposure with nothing
near to intercept the light, it has special advantages for this kind
of work, which needs the strongest light .possible. The charred
packages of money which have been almost reduced to cinders,
and which crumble at the slightest touch, are brought to the
ladies skilled in dealing with such cases. The contents of a safe
which was iu Adams Express Company's building, in Chicago,
were being counted when I went in. There were National Bank
notes, United States Treasury bonds, nickels, railroad bonds, and
postage-stamps upon the tables. All these must be sorted and
arranged, counted, and the value estimated. Such work as this,
as may easily be believed, is no light task. The notes are baked
to a crisp, and are perfectly black, and the idea of separating
them, and deciphering the engraving oh their faces, seems at first
utterly absurd. Some of the packages are in tolerable order, in
other cases three or four hundred notes which have been care
lessly thrown into a box, are so melted together that it seems
impossible to separate them ; in others, bonds have been tied up
in a roll for convenience' sake, and are in the worst condition
possible to be separated. And here I would give a word of
warning. Anybody is liable to be burnt out; any fire- proof
safe is subject to being brought under the test of extreme heat,
and its contents roasted, so that all persons having notes, bonds,
or postage-stamps put away for safe keeping, should take the

COO IIISTOEY OF THE GEEAT FIEES
precaution to keep them spread out their full size, one placed
neatly over the other, and, in case of an accident or calamity
such as that at Chicago, very little will be lost in the process of
redemption. All notes, whose value can be made out, are re
deemed at full value. There is no discount on burnt money.
The safes or the boxes containing the money are sent at once
from the Treasurer's office to the ladies, whom long experience
has proved qualified for the delicate and difficult task of handling
it and deciphering its value. They take it carefully from its
receptacles, and proceed to separate the notes with the utmost
skill. Those notes which are so far gone that they crumble at
the slightest touch, have their cinders carefully pasted together
on sheets of tissue-paper. Great care is taken to prevent the loss
of a single note. The ladies are supplied with various aids in
their work. Each has a masniifvinsr-orlass and several small,
thin, sharp, steel instruments with flat blades, which last are indis
pensable in separating the notes. "With .National Bank notes the
name of the State, the bank, and the denomination of the note
must be deciphered, that the money may be returned to the
banks which issued it for redemption. The counter certifies to
the number of packages, of pieces, denomination, and the total
amount. In the case of the Treasury notes, the counter furnishes
a schedule for the office of the Secretary of the Treasury, another
for the Treasurer, and a third for the Register. These schedules
are carefully looked over in these bureaus, signed, and afterward
the notes are burned in the presence of representatives of the
three officers above named. This work is not only complicated,
•but imposes great responsibility upon those having it to do ;
nevertheless, it is proper to state that the ladies receive but $900
per annum for their labor.
The postage stamps found in the express safes are arranged,
counted, and returned to the General Post Office; the railroad
bonds are returned to the railroad companies who issued them

D? CHICAGO AXD THE WEST. 307
The National Bank notes, after being returned to the banks
which issued them, are sent to the agents of the banks in "Wash-
ington, and by them sent to the office of the Comptroller of the
Currency, in the Treasury Department. In the redemption
division of this office they are counted by ladies, one a representa
tive of the Secretary, a second a representative of the Comp
troller, and a third a representative of the Treasurer, and lastly
by the agent of the bank, making ~ four coantings in alL
Accuracy is thus secured, and each counter is a check upon the
rest. Afterward the certificates are signed by gentlemen repre
senting the officers above named, and the money is taken in strong
boxes, securely locked, to be burned. .There is a considerable
degree of ceremony attending upon the burning of the notes,
although they have already been cancelled and reduced to the
value of waste paper. The representatives of the offices named
and the agent of the bank whose notes are to be burned so down
into the cellar of the Treasury building into a small room resem
bling a prison cell more than anything else. The furnace resem
bles an oven, and is set in the wall. It has an iron door which is
fastened with three padlocks. Each lock will open only to its
own key. The gentlemen acting as representatives of the three
officers before mentioned have each a key, and each in turn
unlocks the padlock which his key fits. The boxes containing
the money are opened by the Secretary's representative ; the
messenger in attendance sweeps back the ashes of yesterday's
bnrnin"-, piles shavings in the furnaces, throws in a package of
notes as a first offering, closes the furnace door, and the fire
begins to roar. The door is opened again, and package after
package of notes is thrown in ; mutilated notes, defaced and-time-
worn notes, and the charred relics of the Chicago disaster are
tossed in. There is a species of excitement in throwing money
into the fire. There is a dash of recklessness in it wliich is fasci
nating to sober-minded persons accustomed to economy. I know

u\> i IHSTOEY OF THE GEEAT FERES
of no better way to ease one;s_mind after being forced to look
twice at every penny belore spending it, than to be allowed to
participate in the incremation of that money-god winch has been
tormenting you. You have your revenge on yourself for your
enforced niggardliness, and on the dire necessity which has caused
your straits. It is almost exhilarating to toss §20,000 that doesn't
belong to you into the flames. Nothing equals it, except perhaps
Artcmus "Ward's self-sacrifice in sending his wife's relatives into
the army.
After all the money is thrown in, the door of the furnace is
locked with the same ceremony with which it was unlocked, and
the money is left to burn alone.
Once upon a time this draught in the furnaces used to burn
Treasury notes and fractional currency, and was so strong as to
carry notes up the chimney, whence they would fly a short dis
tance in the air and fall in the court-yard. It was discovered
that these were picked up and used again as money, so measures
have been taken to prevent any such occurrence in the future.
This writer has not told us how the gold and silver coin that was
melted into masses was separated by the experts, but it was in
geniously counted, and as far as possible restored without remint-
ing. Vast sums of money perished of which no record can be made.
There were iu tho vault of the Sub-Treasury, at the time of the
fire, 61,500,000 in greenbacks, §300,000 in National Bank notes,
§223.000 in gold, and §.3,000 iu silver; making a total of §2,030,-
000. of which §230,000 was in specie.
In an old iron safe which was left outside the vault was deposited
$35,000 consisting of mutilated bills and fractional currency.
When the l.uiilding caught fire, and blazed with fervent heat, the
immense vault, with its fabulous treasures, fell to the basement,
burying the insignificant safe and its mutilated contents. The
contents of the latter were saved, while $1,S00,000 in currency
was burned to ashes and hopelessly lost.

nsr cmcAao a_nt> the west. 369
The specie was scattered oyer the basement floor and fused
with the heat. There were lumps of fused eagles valued at from
$300 to §1,000, blackened and burned, but nevertheless good as
refined gold. The employes raked the ruins of the whole building,
and recovered altogether about five-sixths of the whole amount.
It was a fortunate circumstance that only a week before
$500,000 in gold, and §25,000 in silver, had been shipped from
the city. ,. , •
Not a single indictment was left pn record by the fire against
any rogue in Chicago; no/ a paper to Bhow. that there is a suit
pending in any of the six courts of the. county; not a judgment,
not a petition in bankruptcy in the federal courts. , And worse
yet, so far as is known, all the records of deeds and mortgages
are destroyed. The loss of deeds must entail immense trouble
upon the owners of lands, and require special legislative enact
ments to secure proprietors of real estate in their titles. The
wisest men are maturing plans to provide against losses and liti
gations, and make investments in real estate as safe as ever.
INDIRECT LOSSES.
A naked estimate of the value of property actually destroyed
cannot contain any adequate conception of the immense damage
sustained by the city in its industries and in near and remote
business prospects. If we say that 1,100 squares, or more than
2,200 acres, were swept by the remorseless flames in the space of
twenty-four hours ; that from 20,000 to 26,000 buildings were
utterly devoured or left in heaps of unsightly ruins ; that the
value of the buildings alone was fully §75,000,000, and of their
contents at least as much more, we are oppressed by the magni
tude of our statements and really comprehend nothing. Regard
ing the §150,000,000 of property consumed as productive capital
— and most of it was that or its equivalent — the income therefrom,
reckoned at the moderate rate of six per cent., was no less than

370 niSTORY OF THE GEEAT FIEES
§9,000,000 a year , a sum sufficient to pay perpetually the wages
of 7,000 workmen at two dollars a day each, and 3,000 salaried
men with salaries of §1,500 a year each; in other words, a sum
sufficient for the comfortable support of no less than 40,000 souls.
In saving that the direct losses, regarded as capital, represented
the wages fund of 10,000 men, and that the arrest of business
represents for the time being a wages fund even greater, it is not
by any means meant that more than 20,000 men are thrown out
of employment, and 100,000 human beings deprived of the means
of support. Thanks to the modern system of insurance, to the
modern spirit of enterprise, and to the energy and large-hearted-
ness of our own people, but very few willing hands will long re
main idle. Common laborers and such mechanics as are willing
to rough it for a season, will find plenty to do in clearing away
the rubbish and erecting either permanent or temporary struc
tures. The Chicago Law Institute reports that, on the 8th day of
October, 1S71, it had acquired about 7,000 volumes of law books,
valued at about §30,000. In October, 1S67, it owned, by actual
count, 4,081 volumes, which number has since rapidly and steadily
increased, and embraced a nearly perfect series of American
reports ; all the reports of the English courts, and many of the
most valuable Irish and Scotch reports ; all the law journals of
the United States and England ; most, if not all, the modern
text-books published in this country and England, and also the
old English digests, together with a large collection of rare and
valuable works on the civil law. "While the institute had been
aided by many generous gifts from personal and professional
friends, yet most of the library had been procured with its own
funds, derived from the sale of its stoek and assessments upon its
members. The library was the property of the shareholders, and
freely used by them and all subscribers to the stock who were not
in default in the payment of their dues, and was free to all judges

JS CHICAGO ASD THE WEST 371
and lawyers living outside of Cook county, either in this or any
other State. It had always been kept in rooms in the court-house
furnished by the county of Cook ; convenient to all the State
courts, and freely used by all the judges holding courts in this city ;
and was in charge of a librarian and assistant, one of whom was
always in attendance, and was insured for §20,000, divided among
.different companies, as follows : — Five thousand each in the Lum
berman's, Merchants', Firemen's, and Equitable Insurance Com
panies, all established in the city of Chicago, and organized under
charters granted by the State of Illinois. '* ' :){,,-}. uVf ,* ^ ,y..- /
Besides its library, the Institute had, on the 8th day of Octo
ber, 1871, $1,318.58 in the hands of its treasurer, and owed only
about $350 for all purposes. .•-,,.•' ,,;, ,.,,.,,
On the night of the 8th of October, 1871, a memorable fire
destroyed all the books, records, vouchers, and papers of the
Institute, with every record of deeds and wills, and all the files
and records of all the State and Federal courts established and
held in the city of Chicago. The Law Institute thus lost every
thing it possessed, except its name and legal organization, the
balance of $1,31S.58 in the hands of its treasurer, and what may
be realized upon its insurance, which will not, in the present
judgment of this committee, exceed §1,500. In addition to their
loss as members of the Institute, the lawyers of this city, with, so
far as now known, but one or two exceptions, lost at the same
time all their private libraries and papers, although some of them
saved a very few sets of reports — mostly those of the State of
Illinois and the Supreme Court of the United States.
The following is a complete list of the breweries destroyed by
the late fire. The insurance on the property was generally light,
and much of it uncertain pay : —
Lill's Brewing Company  $500,000
J". A. Iluck  400,000
Sand's Brewing Company  335,000

nro

HISTORY OF THE GEEAT FIEES

Bush & Crand  •  §250,000
Buffalo Brewery  150,000
Schmidt, TCatz & Co  , ,  60,000
Metz & Stage  80,000
Doyle Bros. & Co  45,000
Mloeler Bros  20,000
Iv. G.Schmidt  ;  90,000
George Hiller  35,000
Schmidt & Bender  25,000
Mitinet & Puopfel  12,000
John Behringer  15,000
J. Miller  8,000
William Bowman  5,000
George "Wagner  5,000
$2,025,000
The loss of Mr. Lill has been estimated at §240,000. Mr.
Liil's residence alone was filled with furniture valued at over
§10,000, much of the furniture being made in imitation of old
English furniture, and constructed of the finest materials.
There were eighty-nine newspaper establishments burned, em
bracing dailies and monthlies.
Thus eloquently has Townsend, " Gath," described the resist
ance of the fire-proof Tribune building, which long withstood,
but finally siicL-unibed with everything around it.
Oh ! thou, my master, champion of the people,
Ti-iistWE august, -who e'er kept righteous court,
Long alter fire had toppled church and steeple,
Thou stoodst amidst the ruins like a fort.
High and serene thy cornices extended,
Though scorched by smoke, and of the flame the prey,
Above thu vault where, grim, and calm, and splendid
The sleeping lions of thy presses lay ;

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 373
Till looking round on the -wondrous pity.
Thyself alone erect, intact, upreared, *
Disdaining to outlive the glorious city,
With innate heat transfigured, disappeared
The following estimate of losses of city property under the ju
risdiction of the Board of Public "Works, is given by Commissioner
Redmond Prindiville, who has devoted considerable attention to
the subject. This estimate does not include the school-houses,
engine-houses and apparatus, police stations, sidewalks, etc. The
item of sidewalks only refers to those in, front of city, property,
together with all street and alley crossings, which are constructed
by the Board of Public "Works. The item of the City Hall embra
ces only the west half of the Court-House, the remainder being
owned by the County. The list is as follows : —
City Hall, including furniture  ,  $470,000
"Water "Works, engines  15,000
"Water "Works, buildings and tools  20,000
Rush street bridge  15,000
State street bridge  15,000
Clark street bridge  13,800
"Wells street bridge  lojfWO
Chicago avenue bridge  26,700
Adams street bridge  37,860
Van Buren street bridge  13,470
Polk street bridge  29,450
"Washington street tunnel  2.000
La Salle street tunnel  1,800
Lamp-posts  25,000
Fire hydrants  15,000
Street pavements  250,000
Sidewalks and crossings  70,000
Reservoirs  15,000
Docks  .. 10,000

374 history of the great fires
Sewers  $10,000
Water service  15,000
Total  81,085,080
It is safe to estimate that the aggregate losses of the several
religious denominations by the Great Fire, by the destruction of
churches, schools, and other property, approximate $4,000,000.
The Roman Catholics alone lose $1,500,000, and the Methodists
§000.000. The Presbyterians lose probably about $250,000. The
other denominations do not lose so heavily, but the Congregation-
alists, Baptists, Unitarians, Swedenborgians, Universalists, and
Israelites all lost valuable church buildings. In several instances
not only the churches were destroyed, but all their members lost
their homes.
The Rev. Dr. Bolles writes from Chicago, under date of Octo
ber 11, as follows: — "Our church (Episcopal), on the North Side,
with its 70,000 or 80,000 inhabitants, is completely burned out of
existence. jSTot only has every church edifice been destroyed, but
there is not a single parishioner whose private dwelling has not
been annihilated in the great conflagration, except that of Mr.
Ogden. Among the sufferers are the clergy, and especially the
Ruv. Mr. Street, the Rev. Mr. Dorset, and the Rev. Mr. Bredburg
the Danish missionary; all of whom are reduced to the lowest
depths of poverty and destitution."
The Interior thus summarizes the Presbyterian losses by the
firj : — "Our three oldest, largest, and wealthiest churches are
ut .crly destroyed ; a number of our mission schools are burned up ;
the homes of nearly 1,500 members of our congregations are in
ashes ; almost every prominent business man in any one of the
ch .irches — whether of those destroyed or of those saved — is crippled
if not ruined, by losses sustained by the fire; our Seminary is
ph.ced in straitened circumstances because of the failure of its in
vested funds to yield a revenue sufficient to meet its expenses."

HON. ISAAC N. ARNOLD

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST, 377
'"Out of two hundred and fifty families on my list," said Rev. Mr.
Parkhurst, of the Grace M. E. Church, "not one has a roof left.
Church, parsonage, homes, all were gone, literally annihilated."
Some idea of the proportion of losses may be gained from the
following estimates : —
Dry Goods  $6,045,000
Groceries  2,452,500
Clothing houses  1,911,000
Stationers, blank books, etc  1,1^.0,000
Jewellers, watches and clocks. . . J.. ....... 1,335,000
Hardware  .¦' . . , .'. :......... 1,2S0,000
Millinery  1 .'.. ........ 1,100,000 .
Hotels  1,210,000
Church societies and corporations  4,240,000
City property  1,005,000
Railroads  2,000,000
Boots and shoes  975,000
Drugs, paints, and oils  621,000
Books  864,000
Hides and leather  428,000
Restaurants, saloons, etc  528,000
Furniture  510,000
Music dealers  775,000
Hats, caps, and furs  423,000
Glassware, crockery, etc  133,000
Auctioneers  306,000
Tailors and outfitters  17S.000
Commissions, etc  128,000
Nothing gives a clearer idea of the magnitude of the great fire
than the fact that no one man or body of men can, of themselves,
give any idea of the damage done. Every man doing business in
the city has it in his power to contribute a valuable chapter to
the history which will some time be written of tho conflagration.

99

373 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
An untold amount of literary and art treasures have gone down
into ashes. In addition to the hundreds of private libraries and
collections of works of art, all our public libraries,, and an im
mense number of law libraries, are among the lost.
The collection of the Historical Society, which was among the
largest in the country, cannot be replaced. It was the work of
years to getit together, but a few hours served to destroy it. The
Young Men's Association Library, and the Farwell Hall Library,
and several other lesser ones, have passed away. Many gentlemen
had extensive private collections of rare and valuable works. A
large portion of the members of the bar were sufferers, in this
respect, to the aggregate extent of tens of thousands of volumes
of costly law books. And then many of the more wealthy of the
citizens, were liberal patrons of the fine arts, and had brought
from Europe valuable paintings with which to adorn their resi
dences. These were left behind in their flight for life before the
great sea of flame, which, with the irresistible tread of fate, was
sweeping towards them. And last, there are the Sunday-school
Libraries of at least half a hundred churches — all gone. And libra
ries of clergymen, and the great and the small bookstores, scores
of them. There is scarcely any end to the loss of the literary and
art treasures of the city. It will be long years before our people
will be in a condition to restore these adjuncts of our civilization.
Says a correspondent : —
" I walked down the avenue with Robert T. Lincoln, son of the
lite President. He entered his law-office about daylight on Monday
morning, after the flames had attacked the building, opened the
vault, and piled upon a table-cloth the most valuable papers, then
slung the pack over his shoulder, and escaped amid a shower of
falling firebrands. He walked up Michigan avenue, with this
load on his back, and stopped at tho mansion of John Young
Scammon, where they breakfasted with a feeling of perfect se
curity. Lincoln went home with his papers, and before noon the

FN CHICAGO AND THE -WEST. 379
ht'-asc of Scammon was in ruins, the last which was sacrificed by
the Lake side."
Mr. Benjamin F. Taylor, the poet and lecturer, who was for
merly the literary editor of the Journal, and one of the pioneer
citizens of Chicago, was in Buflalo when he learned of the great
jalamity, and thus, in a note to a Buffalo editor, tells in a few
words the feelings and the spirit of Chicago : —
" What time but this," he says, " ever showed tho world an ex
tinguished city and an extinguished press? ' It seems to me as
terrible as the day of doom. I cannot realize it. To me it is as
if a best-known, best-loved part of the- planet* had been stricken
6ff with a hammer and lost in space. To speak of small things,
but things very near home : here am I, a roll of paper I can carry
in my pocket is all I have to show for twenty-one yeara of daily
writing, such as it was. Not a paragraph but these few left to
prove I ever penned a line. I feel as if somebody had set me
adrift in a boat with a biscuit, and nobody in all the world to
make a signal to. But for those who have lost their all — whose
magnificent, tangible monuments of wealth, money, and skill,
have perished like a wisp of smoke — those who are homeless on
the footstool, there is no rhetoric to meet their case. They stand
literally disastered in the world. And how much grander than
eloquent words was the action of the city of Buffalo that sent aid
and hope and good cheer to them that stand desolate on the shore
of Lake Michigan. God bless Buffalo ! And yet I cannot think
that the soul of the West is scorched at all — that there is so much
as the " smell of fire " on the garments of the enterprise that
found Chicago like little Moses in the bulrushes, and reared it
into a mighty leader, and set the star of the West upon its brow;
for I believe the spirit of the little Scot, when 'whelmed beneath
the falling house in the Canongate of Edinburgh, is not extinct —
the lad who cried out from his living tomb, and so lent mus
cle and heart to the rescuers, ' Heave away, chaps ; I'm not dead

3bO HISTORY OF THE GREAT FERES
yet ! ' I can hear that voice this morning from away there on
Michigan, and even here rises the shout of a rescuer where she
sits on the shore of Lake Erie."
The following paragraph is deeply interesting and painfully
true : —
Xo calculation can begin to tell the tale of ruin. Banks, ho
tels, wholesale houses, all gone — this is indeed fearfully signifi
cant ; but of the amount and multiplicity of losses no estimate
can be brought home to the mind. A volume needs to be written
to portray all that Burnt Chicago means. I sat at a railway sta
tion the other day by a gentleman who told me his story. He had
had nothing burned up. But nearly all that he possessed was in
the keeping of the banks. Twenty years ago he went into business
with a dentist who has been of late among the first in the city.
He prospered greatly, but worked too hard, and for three years he
has been wandering into all lands and all climes where possibly
he might find relief from intense pain. He looks a young man
still, but is broken down, and Will the Ranks Pay? is his prob
lem of existence. His case is a typical one in this respect, the
illustration which he is of prosperity gained here by too great
strain upon body and mind. There is no more terrible feature of
this calamity than the condition, from excessive overwork, of
many of the minds on which it falls most heavily. Can they look
into the gulf of madness which this ruin opens at their very feet,
sobered instead of crazed, or will they plunge over the brink,
cither into instant insanity or into utter madness of new excess
of exertion ? The rage of speculation which has run such a course
here vastly complicates all the perplexities of our present situa
tion. All these speculative values — boulevards, suburbs, South
Side, etc., etc. — are gone for the present. What might have been
available resources in the hands of active business men have been
risked and lost. One move of fate has blocked the whole game.
Here is my neighbor who was considered worth a million and a

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 3S1
half over his debts, yet was under sc many mortgages that
he must be penniless now; and he is away looking for the
power tc siecp. 1 might enumerate many typical instances of
enterprise overwhelmed by the descent of this storm while carry
ing too much sail. The men that had great liabilities on account
of real estate speculations, and those who had been taxed in brain
and nerve already to the breaking point, were far too many in our
city, even compared with the average downward tendency of
civilization, in this respect, at the present time.. Then there ware
very many, including many widows and heirs, who had obtained
very comfortable means by the rise in value of cheap houses and
lots, and whose property had behind it no habit or capacity .of
self-help. A great deal of the property of this class was in small
loans on property. Now all is gone. Time may give some value
to the titles or the claims, but all income is cut off. Even the
metes and bounds are blotted out.
A description like this below, which some friend of the family
has written, enables us to look into the inner circle of losses,
and apprehend their exceeding greatness.
Among the many beautiful homes destroyed by the great fire
which laid Chicago in ruins, few, if any, were more attractive
and home-like than that of Hon. I. _M. Arnold. The house was
a large, plain, double house, situated nearly in the centre of the
block bounded by Erie, Huron, Pine, and Rush streets. Tho
grounds were filled with the most beautiful shrubbery and trees,
and entirely secluded by a very luxuriant lilac hedge. Perhaps
the most noticeable feature was the vines of wild grapes, "Virginia
creeper, and bitter-sweet, which hung in graceful festoons from
every tree, and covered with a mass of foliage piazzas and sum
mer-houses. There was a simple but quaint fountain playing in
front — beneath a perfect bower of overhanging vines — a great
rock, upon whose front had been rudely carved the features of an
Indian chief, which had been pierced, and a way made for water,

332 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
and through the head of the old chief the water of Lake Michigan
was always throwing its spray. On one side of the entrance was
a little green-house, always gay with flowers. Two vineries of
choice varieties of foreign grapes, a large green-house and barn,
constituted the out-houses. On the lawn was a sun-dial, with the
inscription, "Iloras non numcro nisi serenas."
("I number none but sunny hours.")
Alas, its tablet was broken with the destruction of the house it
seemed to guard — but a brighter day may come, and "sunny
hours " be again numbered.
But pleasant as was the outside, it was the interior where its
great attractions lay — and chief of these was the library.
Here were the collections of a life — a law library, and a miscel
laneous library of about seven or eight thousand volumes. Many
of the books were specialties and the objects of pride and affec
tion. The speeches of Burke, Sheridan, Fox, Pitt, Erskine,
Curran, Brougham, Webster, Wirt, Seward, Sumner, etc., all
superbly bound ; a pretty full collection of English literature,
poetry and history. Among the notable books were the Abbots-
ford edition of Scott's novels in full russia binding, Pickering's
Bacon in tree calf, six copies of Shakespeare, Knight's illustrated
edition, a full set of the British poets, all of Bohn's Libraries,
Milton, Bolingbroke, Hume, etc., etc. In American literature
and history the library was rich. Beautiful editions of the works
of Irving, Cooper, Paulding, Willis, Bryant, Longfellow, Pres-
cott, Hoimcs, tiie writings of Washington, Madison, Jefferson,
Hamilton, Marshall, Story, Bancroft, etc.
The pictures were not numerous, but of very decided merit.
Landscapes by Ivcnsett, Brown, and Mignot, family portraits by
Healy, the original study of Webster's reply to Hayne, now in
Fanenil Hall. Boston, in which were some forty portraits of dis
tinguished Americans, many of them from life a portrait of Wel>

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 363
ster by Chester Harding, etc. Mr. A. had a very complete col
lection of the proceeding? of Congress, and the debates, from the
organization of the Federal government down. In this library
was perhaps- as full a collection of the books and pamphlets in re
lation to slavery, the rebellion, the war, and President Lincoln,.
as existed in any private hands.
There were ten large volumes of manuscript letters written by
distinguished military and civil characters, during and since the
war of the rebellion, including many from Lincoln, McClellan,
Grant, Farragut, Sherman, Halleck, Seward, Sumner, Chase, Col
fax, and others, of great personal and historic interest. ¦ " ..
-¦ ...v.. *.. . - • . .
For the last ten years Mr. Arnold has been collecting the
speeches, writings, and letters of Lincoln, for publication, and
had many volumes of manuscripts and letters, the material for a
strictly biographical work upon Mr. Lincoln, several chapters of
which were ready for publication. These, with many rare and
curious relics, prints, and engravings, have all perished.
The failure of Mr. Arnold to save anything was the result of a
most determined effort to save his house, and a confident belief
that he could succeed. This confidence did not seem to be un
reasonable. The house standing in the centre of an open block,
with a wide street, and Newberry block with only one house in
front, the Ogden block with only one house directly in the path
way of the flames, it is not surprising that he believed he could
save his home. Besides he had connections by hose with the
hydrants both in the front and rear. Mrs. Arnold had a better
appreciation of the danger, and calling up the family and dress
ing little Alice, a chiid of eight years old, she left the house, and
went to her daughter's, Mrs. Scudder's, leaving Mr. A. and the
remainder of the family, consisting of a daughter, a lad of thir
teen, a school-girl of fifteen, and the servants, to fight the battle
with the flames. There was a 6ea of fire to the south and south
west ; the wind blew a gale, carrying smoke and sparks, shingles,

,"84 rnsTORT of the great fires
pieces of lumber and roof directly over the house. Everything
was parched, and dry as tinder. The leaves from the trees and
shrubbery covered the ground. The first thing was to turn on
the water to the fountains in front and on the east side of the
house to wet the ground and grass, and attach the hose. He sta
tioned the servants on each side of the house, and others on the
piazzas, and for an hour and a half, perhaps two hours, was able
by the utmost vigilance and exertion to extinguish the flames as
often as they caught. During all this time the fire fell in tor
rents; there was literally a rain of fire. It caught in the dry
leaves; it caught in the grass, in the barn, in the piazzas, and as
often as it caught it was put out, before it got any headway.
When the barn first caught, the horses and cow were removed to-
the lawn. The fight was continued, and with success, until three
o'clock in the morning. Every moment flakes of fire falling,
touching dry wood, with the high wind, would kindle into a
blaze, and the next instant would be extinguished. The contest
after three o'clock grew warmer and more fierce, and those who
fought the devouring element were becoming exhausted. The
contest had been going on from half-past one until after three,
when young Arthur Arnold, a lad of thirteen, called to his father,.
'" The barn and hay are on fire." " The leaves are on fire
'..ii the east side," said the gardener. " The front piazza is
in a blaze," cried another. " The front green-house is in flames,
and the roof on fire." "The water has stopped!" was the
last apalling announcement. "Now, for the first time," said
Mr. A., " I gave up hope of saving my home, and considered
whether we could save any of the contents. My pictures, papers,
and books, can I save any of them ? " An effort was made to cut
clown some portraits, a landscape of Kcnsett, Otsego Lake, by
Mignot — it was too late ! Seizing a bundle of papers, gathering-
the children and servants together, and loading forth the animals,
they started. But where to go? They were surrounded by fire

IN CHICAGO AND ITlE WEST. 385
on three sides ; to the south, west, and north raged the flames,
making a wall of fire and smoke from the ground to the sky ;
their only escape was east to the Lake shore. Leading the horses
and cow, they went to the beach. Here were thousands of fugi
tives hemmed in and imprisoned by the raging element. The
sands, from the Government pier north to Lill's pier, a distance
of three-quarters of a mile, were covered with men, women, and
children, some half-clad, in every variety of dress, with the mot
ley collection of things which they sought to save. Some had
silver, some valuable papers, some pictures, Borne old carpets,
beds, etc. One little child had her doll tenderly pressed in her
arms, an old woman a grunting pig, a fat woman had two large
pillowB, as portly as herself, which 6he had apparently snatched
from her bed when she left. There was a singular mingling of
the awful, the ludicrous, and the pathetic.
Reaching the water's edge Mr. A. says he paused to examine
tho situation, and determine where was the least danger. South
west toward the river were millions of feet of lumber, and many
shanties and wooden structures yet unburned, but which must be
consumed before there could be any abatement of the fires. The
air was full of cinders and smoke, the gale blew the heated sand
worse than any sirocco. Where was a place of refuge ? W. B.
Ogden had lately constructed a long pier north of and parallel to
the United States pier, and it had been filled with stone, but had
not been planked over, and it would not readily burn. It was
" a hard road to travel," but it seemed the safest place, and Mr.
Arnold and his three children worked their way far out on this
pier, but it became so uncomfortable that he at length deter
mined to cross the Ogden slip to the light-house, situated well out
on the United States pier. With much difficulty the party
crossed the Ogden slip in a small row-boat, and entered the light
house, and here they and all others met the kindest reception and
hospitality.

33'3 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
The party remained prisoners in the light-house and on the pier
in which it stood, for several hours. The shipping above in tho
river was burning : the immense grain elevators of the Illinois
Central and the Galena railroads were a mass of flames, and the
pier itself some distance up the river was slowly burning towards
the light-house. A largo propeller fastened to the dock a short
distance up the river caught fire, and the danger was that as soon
as the ropes by which it was fastened burned off it would float
down stream and set fire to the dock in the immediate vicinity of
the light-house. Several propellers moved down near the mouth
of the river and took on board several hundred fugitives, and
steamed out into the Lake. If the burning propeller came down
it would set fire to the pier, the light-house and vast piles of lum
ber, wliich had as yet escaped in consequence of being directly
on the shore and detached from the burning mass. Afire company
was organized of those on the pier, and with water dipped in pails
from the river the fire kept at bay, but all felt relieved when the
propeller went to the bottom. The party were still prisoners on
an angle of sand, and the fire running along the north shore of the
river. The river and the fire prevented an escape to the south,
west and north. The fire was still raging with unabated fury.
The party waited for hours, hoping the fire would subside. The
day wore on, noon passed and one and two o'clock, and still it
seemed difficult if not dangerous to escape to the north. Mr.
Arnold, leaving his children in the light-house, went north
towards Lill's, and thought it was pi.-ctieable to got through, but
was not willing to expose the females to the great discomfort and
possible danger of the experiment. On this occasion Mr. A. saw
his gardener with the horses and cow, which could not approach
the light-house on account of Ogden's slip. The faithful fellow
had ridden the horses far out in the Lake, and he sat on thchoree's
back several rods from the shore, holding the pony by the halter
and the cow bv the horn. He saved the animals.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 3S7
THE GAUNTLET OF FIRE.
Between three and four in the afternoon the tugboat Clifford
came down the river and tied up near the light-house. Could she
return — taking the party up the river — through and beyond the
fire to the West Side, or was it better and safer to spend the
night at the light-house ? If it and the pier, the lumber and shan
ties around should burn during the night, as seemed not unlikely,
the position would not be tenable, and might be extremely peril
ous ; besides Mr. A. was very anxious to know that Mrs. A. and
little Alice were safe. The officer of the tug said the return pas
sage was practicable. Rush, Clark, State, and Wells street bridg
es had all burned and their fragments' had fallen into the river:
The great warehouses, elevators, storehouses,' docks on the banks
of the river, were still . burning, but the fury of the fire had ex
hausted itself. The party resolved to go through this narrow
canal or river to the south bank, outside the burned district.
This was the most dangerous experience of the day. The tug
might take fire itself, the woodwork of which had been blistered
with heat as she came down ; the engine might get out of order
and the boat become unmanageable after she got inside the line
of fire, or she might get entangled in the floating timber and de
bris of the fallen bridges. However, the party determined to go.
A full head of steam was gotten up, the hose was attached to the
engine so that if the boat or clothes caught it could be put out.
The children and ladies were placed in the pilot house, and the
windows shut and the boat started. The men crouched clear to
the deck behind the butt works, and with a full head of steam the
tug darted past the abutments of Rush street bridge, and as they
passed State street bridge the pilot had to pick his way carefully
among fallen and floating timber. The extent of the danger now
became obvious, but it was too late to retreat. As the boat pass
ed State street the pump supplying cold water ceased to work,
and the exposed wood in some parts was blistering. "Snatching

388 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
a handkerchief," says Mr. Arnold, " I dipped it in water, and
covering the face and head of Arthur, whose hat the wind had
blown awav, 1 made him lie flat on the deck, as we plunged for
ward thfiuirlt i be fiery furnace. On we sped past Clark and
Wells .-.ret.ts. '' Ts not the worst over? " he asked of the Captain,
as the boat dashed on and on. "We are through, sir," answered
the Ctiptain. " We are safe." " Thank God ! " came from
hearts and lips as the boat emerged from the smoke into the
clear, cool air outside the fire lines.
Going ashore near West Lake street, Mr. A obtained a hack at
the depot of the Northwestern Railroad, and drove to Mr. Geo.
Davis', and leaving his children there he borrowed a horse and
rode north on the West Side of the North Branch to get around
and above the fire, which was still raging, to try and find Mrs.
Arnold and Alice. He crossed at North avenue and went to
Lincoln Park, but could get no intelligence of them until he
reached General Stockton's, at the end of the Lake shore drive,
whose house was filled with North Side fugitives. Here, on the
Lake shore, a mile north of the park, he was relieved to learn of
Mrs. A.'s safety, and he was advised that she had gone with some
friends and neighbors to Lake View or Evanston. It was now
dark, and Mr. A. returned to the house of Mr. Davis for the
night. Early Tuesday morning he started to renew the search. Pass
ing through Lincoln Park and the Lake shore drive, he went
north, inquiring at every house until reaching Mrs. Snow's, where
he learned that Mrs. A. had gone to the West Side. Returning,
on his way he met friends who gave him the cheering words that
Mrs. A. and Alice, with many neighbors and friends, had on tho
evening before taken the cars for Winfield, and were all well at
tho house of Judge Drummond, and there, Tuesday evening,
the family all met, and returned thanks to God for each other's
safety.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 389
The Tribune's account of Allan Pinkcrton's loss reveals a
curious feature of our modern city life : —
Thousands of thieves, and hundreds of thousands of respect
able people, were as fully acquainted with the name of Allan
Pinkerton as of Thomas Jefferson, or Jack the Giant-KHlcr, and
his detective agency was as famous an institution as Boston Com
mon. The system over which he presided was the result of years
©f patient toil and persevering energy, and tho reputation enjoyed
by him was tho fruit of that toil and -energy and perseverance,
With a huge central office in Chicago,"' and branches in New
York and Philadelphia, the champioii thief-catcher had his prey
so uncomfortably situated as to be all the time in the toils, only
they didn't know it. .¦;>" '¦••• ;J<
The system was not destroyed, but a portion of its foundation
has given way, and the savings of twenty years — not in dollars
and ocnts, but in records which dollars and cents can never
replace — vanished in about half an hour. Mr. Pinkerton started
his famous detective agency in Chicago in 1852, and two years
later, when it began to assume largo proportions, the records
were commenced. The most minute details of every case were
all faithfully recorded ; the statement of every applicant foi
assistance in receiving property; the detectives to whom th«
" job " was intrusted ; his orders ; his report of the operations ;
the disposition by the thief of the property stolen ; the amount
recovered, and indeed every detail of the case. Then, when the
thief was brought to trial, the whole of the testimony in the case
was taken down, and the final disposition of the prisoners duly
recorded, so that from the tune a complaint was made at Pinker-
ton's headquarters that money or property hnd been missing, a
complete history of tho thief and his pursuers until the disappear
ance of the former in the Penitentiary or his acquittal, was
recorded. The amount of matter thus created was astonishing.
For the mere clerical work upon it more than $50,000 had been

3;)0 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
paid. Of such curious record? there were no less than 400 gigan
tic volumes of great value. These were nearly all stowed away
in six of Harris' largest safes, while the remainder were placed in
wooden cases. It is needless to state that every one of them was
destroyed. That in itself would have been a public calamity.
Mr. Pinkerton also possessed complete records of the secret ser
vice of the Army of the Potomac. They were of immense value,
being not only the complete, but the only set in existence. Mr.
Pinkerton, whose facilities for obtaining correct information
during those days were, of course, very much greater than those
of any one else, valued them at $50,000. The government
had already offered $30,000 for them — 59 volumes altogether — ,-
and negotiations were, still going on. The whole set perished.
That was also a public calamity.
Pinkerton had in his employ a large number of preventive
policemen, whose occupation was "to watch while all the city's
sleeping, to chase the rogues that prowl by night," as the two
gendarmes were wont to sing. These men had orders eveiy
night to make out a report when they came in. They had to give
an account of their proceedings on their beat, the condition of the
weather, what unusual circumstances they witnessed, who they
saw, and what they said or did to him or her. These reports were
all copied into the records. There were forty of these ponderous
volumes, which were obtained at a cost of $40 each. Their value
may be imagined. They were frequently consulted in court pro
ceedings for the purpose of gaining information as regards the
weather, the condition of the streets, the presence or absence of
the moon, and other policemen. There were in all forty-eight
patrolmen, who gave each an account of these particulars, and it
is presumable that their accounts generally coincided so far as at
mospheric conditions were concerned. Of course the records wcro^
all destroyed. In the first-made rush, when the men seized every
thing on which they could lay hands, they carried two of these

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 391
volumes down-stairs and threw them on a wagon, into which much
other miscellaneous matter was thrown also. The remainder
shared the fiery fate common to everything in the burnt district.
In a small room adjoining Mr. Pinkerton's private office were a
number of plain wooden cases in which were stored the files of
the daily papers since 1S54. There was not a copy of a daily or
weekly paper issued since 1854 of which Mr. Pinkerton had not a
duplicate. Many were bound together, and 105 volumes covered
them all There were printed instructions posted all round the
wall, giving directions to the men, in case'of .fire, fto mpye.these
perishable goods first, trusting the safes'to'proiect the records, fwlt
was supposed that the Harris safes, which cost $370 each, and a
Herring safe which cost $600, would be worth something as a pro
tection against fire, but the result proved them valueless. Only
one safe preserved its contents uninjured, and "that one by a for
tunate accident. Owing to some misconstruction in the building
one safe, containing some of the account books and receipts from
express companies of money restored, fell into the 6trcet, and es
caped being melted. The contents were valuable in their way, but
to Mr. Pinkerton only. The other records were completely wiped
out, and" with them was wiped out the foundation for a complete
and exhaustive history of the Northwest, besides matter enough
for thrilling stories without end; groundwork for sensational
stories innumerable. It was Mr. Pinkerton's intention to have
some of them published in due time, when the parties were dead
or forgotten. Indeed, many of them were already written, and
were waiting but a favorable opportunity for introduction to the
world. The recent heated term has interfered materially with hi3
designs, and crumbled plans and papers into one common ruin.
WTicn the fire firet broke out a rush was immediately made to save
the most valuable property. All that could be moved in Mr.
Pinkerton's room was transferred to a wagon, and the newspaper
files were m-ide ready for removing. But before the lowering

392 HISTORY OF TUE GREAT FIRK3
tackle could be put into satisfactory operation the flames were dart
ing through the hatchway, and the wagon containing the trifling
proportion of salvage drove quickly off to Mr. Pinkerton's home
on West Monroe street. Besides these losses there were others. The
storcrouin where the disguises and other paraphernalia of a detec
tive were stored; the dormitory and the extensive household ar
rangements necessary for the accommodation of the small army of
men in constant emplov in the building also were burned. The
greedy fire here did all the damage it could. In half an hour the
best regulated office in the country, and the most accurate ana
probably minutely detailed records, lay in the basement — a rea|
hot, indescribable heap of rubbish, the only recognizable article
whereof, a fortnight later, was a heap of bricks, surmounted by
the remains of a pen-holder. ||
The damage to the telegraph system was such that eveiy wire,
in the city was disarranged, all the instruments misplaced, dam ¦>
aged and removed, and, to crown all, a half-dozen wires between,
Chicago and New York were completely broken down. To re-1
establish connection, the whole post of operators moved before
the fire three or four times, and the bridgeless stream has been '
crossed by the reconstructed wire. «
Mr. Mullett, supervising architect of government buildings,
after inspecting the Post-Office and Custom-House of Chicago,
says he is satisfied, from the appearance of the building, that if it'
had been provided with fire-proof shutters and a safe roof, its
contents would have been preserved. He also says that if there
had been a whole street of such buildings -with fire-proof shutters,
it would have stopped the fire and saved the rest of the city. He
says the city should be divided into fire districts, so that the fire
men should have some rallying point, and that there should bo a
law requiring every building on certain streets to be built of mate
rials to resist flames, and thus prevent the annihilation of tho city
at a single conflagration. The government will not entertain any

IN CHICAGO AN'D THE WEST. 395
proposition for the removal of the public buildings in Chicago,
but will probably purchase the entire block if it can be obtained
at a reasonable price. One of the owners agreed to sell his lot at
the same price asked for it before the fire, while the owner of a
small shop, learning that the government wanted to purchase, has
raised his price two or three times higher than it was before the
fire. The Secretary of the Treasury will probably ask Congress to
condemn the property, when it will be taken and the regular price
paid for it. Mr. Mullett will at once begin the plans for a new
building, which will be submitted, with the estimates, to Congress.
It is thought the buildings will cost from $2,000,000 to $3,000,-
000, and the land $1,000,000. y 5> '
The Chicago Library possessed many costly works, among
which were the records of the English Patent Office, in 3,000
volumes. The destruction of the files of the Tribune is an
immense loss to Chicago, and an irreparable one to the Tribune.
There was a duplicate copy presented to the Historical Society. .
They contained a complete and exhaustive history of Chicago
from its first settlement.
The following is a list of the principal edifices destroyed :
Great Central Depot, St. James Hotel,
Palmer House, Matteson House,
Tribune Building, Sherman House,
Post-Office, Repxiblican Building,
Bigelow House, Chamber of Commerce,
Evening Post Building, Nevada Hotel,
Tremont House, Gas Works,
Court-House, Rriggs House,
Lombard Block, Crosby's Opera House,
Times Building, Staats-Zeitung Building,
Terrace Block, McVicker's Theat re,
Armour Block, Wood's Museum,
Journal Building, Dearborn Theatre,
'23

89«

HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES

Adams House,
Massasoit House,
City Hotel.
Metropulitan Hotel,
Union IJuilding,
Post-Ofiiuc Dlock,
McCormick's Block,
Western News Co.'s Block,

Hooley's Opera House,
Mail Building,
Shepard Block,
Honore Block,
Reynolds' Block,
National Bank of Commerce,
Illinois National Bank,
Cook County National Bank,

Manufacturers' National Bank, iEtna Building,
S. C. Griggs & Co.'s Book House, Armory,

German National Bank,
Mechanics' National Bank,
Commercial National Bank,
Metropolitan Hall,
Arcade Building,
Merchants' National Bank,
Loan ei Trust Co.'s Building,

Brunswick's Billiard Factory,
Farwell Hall,
Union National Bank,
Mei-. and Farm.'s Savings Bank,
Badger's Bank,
Blinois Saving Institution,
City National Bank,
W. D. Telegraph Co. Building, Adams Express Co.,
Oriental Block,
St. Mary's Church (Catholic),
Palmer House,
First National Bank,
Trinity Church,
Third National Bank,
Jewish Synagogue,
Mayo Block,
Fifth National Bank,
Buj-ch Block.
Lake Shore Depot,
Second Presbyterian Church,
Merchants' Ins. Building,
Academy of Design,
Water Works.

W. Fire and Marine Building,
Firet M. E. Church,
Sturges Block,
Second National Bank,
Phoenix Club,
Morrison Block,
Fourth National Bank,
Catholic Cathedral,
McCormick's Factory,
Galena Elevator,
Galena Depot,
German Theatre,
Unity, N. E., and Westminster
Churches,
Sisters of Mercv Convent.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 397
Clarendon Hotel, Hiram Wheeler's Elevator,
Diversey Block, Elm st., Catholic Hospital, and
Lill's Brewery, the Dearborn, Franklin, Mose-
First Presbyterian Church, ly, Lincoln, Pierson street,
Hubbard Block, Elm street, and other Schools,
Chittenden Building, Sand's Brewery,
Bryant's Commercial College, Church of the Holy Name,
Otis Block, Alexian Hospital,
St. Paul's Church, , , Armour & Dole's "Elevator,
Academy of Music, ., ."- Hatch House,
Drake-Farwell Block, . v Illinois street Church,
Stone's Block, , , Jewish Hospital,
North Baptist Church, North Star Mission,
Historical Society Building.
The best authorities concur in estimating the total loss at from
$198,000,000 to $215,000,000, taking the total insurance to repre
sent one-third of the total loss. This may be divided as follows,
on a rude approximate :
Loss on buildings and property  $106,590,000
Loss on stock and plant  74,560,000
Loss on furniture and personal property. . 24,S50,000
Total  $206,000,000
Such statements can only be relative and proximate. Actual
losses have in some instances been made up by unexpected gains.
Interruption to business cannot be valued and may extend over
years of the future. By such a view as is here given persons may
obtain impressions of great value as to the immense destruction
wrought. H first reports were exaggerated in aomo respects they
have never fully comprehended the situation, and only as we
travel over the desolated region of nearly three thousand acres,
can we fitly conceive what awful damage was consummated.
Before speaking of the dead who lost their lives by the fire, we

398 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
give room to an appropriate paragraph from the i.V. Y. Tribune's
correspondence :—
There was more spared of the remote Northwest of this North
Side of Chicago than the reports had any of them admitted — an
explanation of which fact I shall presently mention. In 1868,
the citv limits were at Fullerton avenue, the length of which, from
the Lake to the north branch of the river, is two miles. North
avenue, a mile back in the city, is but a mile and a half in length
from lake to river. As far as North avenue there was little left,
and clear up to Fullerton avenue, the more thickly occupied pan
was all swept away, but the limit of this part ran diagonally from
near the west end of North avenue, to near the east end of Ful
lerton avenue. On the left or west of this limit is a large district
mostly unoccupied, and yet sprinkled in various directions with
residences of city people, as well as with the cottages of gar
deners. Uupaved streets, deep with sand or with earth which ia
like ashes, are opened, and to a considerable extent sidewalks of
plank are laid ; and there are two or three small churches within
the district. Thus iu fact a territory, in shape an isosceles tri
angle, having the base nearly two miles long on Fullerton
avenue to the north, and the sides (1) the river on the west, run
ning there northwest and southeast, and (2) the limit of closer
building on the east, running northeast and southwest, was not
-wept by the fire, and is now the equivalent of a small, very
sparsely settled village. Oak openings covered with a young and
low growth of trees, squares bare even of fences and thickly
covered with thistles, gardens occupying four to eight acres, make
up a very large proportion of the district. The city limits were
not long ago removed half a mile north of Fullerton a%-enne, add
ing a district of more than a square mile, the whole of which is-
iis much " countrv " as if no citv had ever been thought of in the
vicinity. The fire actually crossed Fullerton avenue into this
district, and ran across its southeast corner, near the Lake on the

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 399
east, and above Lincoln Park on the north. But it was the least
possible snip of ground which was burned over here, and only one
small building which was reached. The residence and grounds
of Mr. Huck, one of the great North-side brewers, who losl
$500,000 lower down on the Lake shore by the destruction of his
brewery, occupies the Lake shore front on the north side of Ful
lerton avenue, his barn standing nearest the southeast corner of
the premises, and just beyond it to the southeast is the small house
which the fire reached. By great efforts, and aided by the police,
whom Mr. Huck stimulated by the promise of $1,000 reward, the
barn was saved, and the fire checked at, that point.. .On the Bite
of this one small house, therefore, just over Tullerton avenue, and
right at the edge of the wide sands beyond which is the Lake, one
stands at the finishing point of the conflagration. And here 1
may correct the common accounts even of persons resident at the
extreme north end, in regard to the distance run by the fire.
From Fullerton avenue south to Kinzie street is two and one-
half miles by the survey. Kinzie street is the second street north
of the main channel of the river. From Kinzie street south,
across the river, and as far as Harrison street, is exactly one mile.
Nearly all of one block was saved north of Harrison street, the
last block to the east, directly on the Lake. Excepting this block,.
the distance due north from one limit of the fire to the other, or
from Harrison street to Fullerton avenue, is precisely three-aud-
one-half miles. This, therefore, is the length of the broad sweep
of conflagration. The average breadth on the south side is three-
fourths of a mile, until one reaches Randolph street, going north,
which is the third street south of the river. Here the great Cen
tral Depot grounds, at the foot of Lake and Water streets, push
the line of breadth out to exactly one mile. Thus the conflagra
tion crossed the main trunk of Chicago River with one mile of
front. Over the river the line of breadth pushes still more into
the Lake, enough to give the fire a front of a mile and one-sixth,

400 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
and this front is fully kept for the first half-mile north, and
nearly or quite kept for the second half-mile; it did not lose
much of it for the third half-mile. But for the last mile uot
more than half of the square mile was run over, the burnt half
being a triangle, of which the base was about a mile in length,
and the upper point was the finishing point of the fire. This
whole region was not burned by a direct northward progress of
the fire, but in vast swaths from the river on the west, diagonally
across to the Lake. First one vast sweep was made of the triangle
the base of which is the main channel of the river, and the upper
point of which is the Water Works. After this there struck in a
dozen other sweeping scythes of flame, the fire first creeping a
block or two along the bank of the north branch, and then tearing
madly across in a northeast direction to the Lake. The swinging
terrors did not sweep evenly forward, but sometimes one behind
outran one which had the start, and they made horrible dashes
into each other. As each new start was made higher up on the
river bank, and the course was diagonally across, the effect was
to maintain a general line of advance directly north, until the
last start on the river was taken, when the front commenced
steadily narrowing until the fire ended in a point as I have de
scribed. The effect of thus moving corps after corps of fire-
terrors, their racing side by side, and their fierce mutual
interferences, was one of compounded horrors and of amazing
sublimity. It seemed as if the earth shook with the awful
breathing of the fire monsters, while their voices roared in horrid
unison or more horrid discord, as if earth and sky were rushing
to ruin. The trampling of the fire-chased throngs, vast whirls of
smoke and sparks constantly sweeping over them, frantic men
dragging bundles or trunks, women hurrying forward little chil
dren, teams dashing recklessly or choked by their own mad rush,
women's clothes con-tantly taking fire, and combustible bundles
bursting into flame, while sio-hs and groans and shrieks made an

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 401
undertone to the fire-teinpest— such was the scene at the moment
when the fullest and fiercest course of the manifold conflagration
was reached, after successive starts of the fire had been made
along the river bank, and when the full number of the reapers
of destruction were in mad career across the doomed plain.
A morgue, or dead-house, was early established, where all
corpses were gathered for recognition, previous to interment.
Here were enacted scenes of pathetic interest, as friends came
to seek their lost ones, and were disappointed ;• or, discovering the
objects of their affection, were overwhelmed with grief. Two
girls, looking for their father, recognized him as he lay upon his
face, by the hair and shape of his head. They were motherless
before the fire, and this robbed them of tbcir chief earthly pro
tector. It was a sad funeral, when we buried him, amid all the
excitement and tumult of the day succeeding the conflagration.
But, away in the green recesses of the cemetery, there was sweet
rest. Let us hope that the repose of Heaven is more sure and
satisfying, after the excitement and agony of life.
In the presence of death and woe will men forget the better
part ? How insignificant seemed man as we stood by the dead in
the morgue ! Mere pailfuls of charred bones and flesh indicated
the existence of those who but the day before were full of lusty
life. Oh ! helpless man, call upon God, the living God. Here
lay the body of a beautiful young girl, of perhaps two-and-twenty.
This poor victim has a wealth of rich brown hair, and brown
eyes ; she is four feet in height, and posesses a handsome figure.
She must in life have been exceedingly lovely. Not being burnt
at all, she suffocated in the smoke, as did many of the other
victims whose remains were afterwards consumed by the flames.
The fire, whose intensity melted all things, was able to so de
stroy human bodies that not a trace of them should remain. This
fact serves to account for the utter loss of many persons known to
have been in the vicinity where the fire appeared and wrought

402 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
most suddenly and rapidly. It will, therefore, never be known
who perished, and how many, until God finally reveals all secret
things. Besides the actually burned, many were so shocked as to
sink down into death. A lovely aged woman, Mrs. Wright, had
Ion:; been ill, and was convalescing finally, when her son came
home, and said, "Mother, everything is gone. " The old lady an
swered with a smile, "James, then you won't have enough to bury
me ; " and immediately she began to decline, and soon dropped
away into that blessed sleep, " from which none ever wakes to
weep." A little girl, dying, said to her mother, " I knew it would
rain, because I asked Jesus to send it;" and amidst the fsdling
drops, so grateful to a whole cityf ul, the trusting child went to her
Saviour. Many infants saw the light only to close their eyes upon
it forever. And while hundreds were gathered up out of the ruins
others have not been discovered, others survived the wreck for a
few hours or days, and others linger, who will owe their decease
to the terrors, and anxieties, and sorrows of this signal calamity.
Fair she rose,
Lifting high her stately head.
Victor-crowned,
Stretching strong and helpful hands
Far around ;
Full of lusty, throbbing life.
In the strife
Dealing quick and sturdy blows.
Sudden swept
Through her streets a sea ¦ if fire ;
Roaring came
Seething waves, cinders, brands.
All aflame ;
Blood-red glowed the brazen sky ;
Far and nigh
Smoke in wreaths and eddies crept.
Oh 1 the cries
Shrill, heiut-rendiug; ! Oh ! the hands

IS CHICAGO AND THE WEST
Frantic wrung !
Oh I the swaying buildings vase I
Pen or tongue
Ne'er the awful tale can tell,
How they fell
Underneath the dizzy skies.
Low she lies,
Bowed in dust her stately head,
Desolate ;
Yet, by all her glory past,
Let us wait, " '• '."' . '•
Stand beside her firm and true;
Built anew,
Watch her, help her upward riaa.

403

23

404

HISTORY OF THE OREAT FIREB

V.— MINISTERED TO BY OHRISTIAN CHARITY.

CHAPTER XXVI.
The greatest human ills have their compensations. Every
picture, however dark, has its bright side. Pain and sorrow save
from evils deeper and more enduring. Misery and sin develop
pity, compassion, patience, and enterprises of recovery and salva
tion, which, bring out the grandest heroes of history, and call forth
the- most beautiful and sublime qualities of our nature. The war
of Revolution and the war against Secession, alike, had their
compensations, so vast and real as to cover all the woe and loss
they occasioned and entailed.
A? great exigencies develop great men, and peculiar sorrows
call forth the best elements of human nature, thus compensating
for labors and loss in some measure, glorifying mankind, and
bringing down God's richest blessings, so on the bosom of this
mighty sea of trouble rose a light that brightened into perfect
day. and the people of this and other countries put forth their
enemies to relieve distress and provide for the army of sufferers.
Severe and terrible though our sufferings were, and immense our
losses, and. the world's losses, yet the spontaneous and magnificent
uprising of our countrymen and of people across the ocean, to aid
the poor, to help the fallen, to relieve suffering, and prevent
despair, was a spectacle unprecedented in history, and may be
productive of results that shall be an abundant recompense for so
painful a catastrophe. Persons abroad seemed to comprehend
our case more perfectly even than we who were almost paralyzed
by the shock. The telegraph made our situation known at once
to all parts of the world ; and while the grounds were red with the.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 405
embers of the conflagration, men and women began to take
measures for the relief of the one hundred thousand sufferers in
Chicago. Nor did they prepare a moment too soon. It will be seen that
such a destruction, so sudden, speedy, and complete, must have
left a great army utterly destitute of the commonest necessities
of existence. Those who were able and accustomed to provide
for the needy were many of them as poor as the poorest they had
ever assisted. This was our extremity. AD. were alike in.- a con
dition of partial demoralization, and the rush of needy ones from
the flames was now turned towards the immediate supplying trf
their pressing wants. And they were destitute of everything but
life and the little they carried away in their hands and saved from
plunder. On Monday and Monday night the farmers and inhabi
tants of the towns close at hand began to gather np clothing, to
cook provisions, to empty their cellars, and pour their bounty
upon us by means of the railroads.
" An old man from Iowa no sooner heard of the conflagration
than he took instant passage for the city to succor his son's family.
It was his first visit to Chicago, and it is to be presumed he was
ignorant of our geographical position. Still he meant well, ao
well indeed that on being informed at a way-station that the
people were suffering from a scarcity of water, he alighted from
the train, purchased a cask, filled it with water, and brought it to
the city in triumph. It did not transpire, but is likely to have
ieen the case, that a philanthropic expressman charged him $100
to convey it from the railroad station."
" A cleroyman in Athol (Mass.), whose home, we are sorry to
say is not given, was so enthusiastic in packing clothing for the
Chicago sufferers that he put his own hat by mistake into the
box and it has gone on with the rest of the donations. This
was a truly charitable gift, for it is evident that the left hand of
the reverend "-entleman didn't know what his right hand was

40*! HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRE8
doing; and can there be a more unconditional kind of self-sur
render than that which is implied in the formula, ' Take my hat'? ';
The papers told a good story of Mr. Ed. Hudson, Superintend
ent of the P., P. & J. Railroad, and a gentleman well known to
railroad men. Upon hearing of the burning of Chicago, his first
act was to telegraph to all agents to transport free all provisions
for Chicago, and to receive such articles to the exclusion of
freight. He then purchased a number of good hams and sent
them home with a request to his wife to cook them as soon as
possible, so that they might be sent to Chicago. He then ordered
the baker to put up fifty loaves of bread. He was kept b^sy during
the day until five o'clock. Just as he was starting for home the
baker informed him the hundred loaves of bread were ready.
" But I only ordered fifty," said Ed.
" Mrs. Hudson also ordered fifty," said the baker.
" All right/' said Ed., and he inwardly blessed his wife for the
generous deed.
Arriving at home he found his little boy, dressed in a fine cloth
suit, carrying in wood. He told him that would not do; he
must change his clothes.
" But mother sent all my clothes to Chicago," replied the boy.
Entering the house he found his wife, clad in a fine silk dress,
superintending the cooking. A remark in regard to the matter
elicited the information that she had sent her other dresses to
Chicago. The matter was getting serious. He sat down to a supper with
out butter, because all that could be purchased had been sent to
Chicago. There were no pickles — the poor souls in Chicago
would relish them so much.
A. little " put out," but not a bit angry or disgusted, Ed. went
to the wardrobe to get his overcoat, but it was not there. An in-^
terrogatory revealed the fact that it fitted in the box real well,
and he needed a new overcoat anyway, although he had paid $5C

IN CHICAGO AND TOE WEST. 407
for the one in question only a few days before. An examination
revealed the fact that all the rest of his clothes fitted the box real
nicely, for not a " dud " did he possess except those he had on.
While he admitted the generosity of his wife, he thought the
matter was getting entirely too personal, and turned to her with
the characteristic inquiry:
" Do you think we can stand an encore on that Chicago fire? "
Rival cities forgot all the hard words uttered by Chicago, and
rallied to our aid with a magnanimity unparalleled, and never to
be forgotten. Milwaukee, Cincinnati, and St. Louis were princely
in their liberality, which has been eloquently celebrated in these
ringing lines : — I saw the city's terror,
I heard the city's cry,
As a flame leaped out of her bosom
Up, up to the brazen sky !
And wilder rose the tumult,
And thicker the tidings came —
Chicago, queen of the cities,
Was a rolling sea of flame !
Yet higher rose the fury,
And louder the surges raved
(Thousands were saved but to suffer,
And hundreds never were saved),
Till out of tl.e awful burning
A flash of lightning went,
As across to brave St. Louis
The prayer for succor was sent
God bless thee, 0 true St. Louis 1
So worthy thy royal name —
Back, back on the wing of the lightning
Thy answer of rescue came.
But alas ! it could not enter
Through the horrible flame and heat.
For the fire had conquered the lightning
And sat in the Thunderer's seat !

408 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
God bless thee again. St. Louis !
For resting never then.
Thou calledst to all the cities
. By lightning and steam and pen.
" Ho, ho, ye hundred sisters.
Stand forth in your bravest might I
Our sister in flame is falling
Her children are dying to-night I "
And through the mighty republic
Thy summons west rolling on,
Till it rippled the seas of the Tropica
And ruffled the Oregon.
The distant Golden City
Called through her golden gates,
And quickly rung the answer
From .he City of the Straits.
Aid tho cir.es that sit m splendor
Along tne Atlantic Sea,
Replying, called to the dwellers
Where the proud magnolias be.
From slumber the army started
At the far-resounding call,
" Food for a hundred thousand.'*
They shouted. " and tents for all."
I neard tnrough next night's darkness
The trains go thundering by,
Till they stood where the fated city
Shone red in the brazen sky.
The rich gave their abundance,
The poor their willing hands ;
There was wine from all the vineyards,
There was corn from all the lands.
At daybreak over the prairies
Re-echoed the gladsome cry —
" Ho, look unto us, ye thousands,
Ye shall not hunger nor die ! "

TN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 409
Their weeping was all the answer
That the famishing throng could give
To the million voices calling
" Look unto us, and live ! "
Destruction wasted the city,
But the burning curse that came
Enkindled in all the people
Sweet Charity's holy flame.
Then still to our God be glory 1
, . . I bless Him, through my tears,
That I live in the grandest nation
That hath stood in all the years.
¦: - :y.y^ ¦'• • •"--:.•>. v.'..'. .•
New York crowned her record of benevolence by gifts that
were positively enormous. The Old "World, thrilled to the heart,
by the flash of the telegraph that showed our city burning and
our people roofless, responded with promptness and munificence.
Indeed, from one end of the land to the other there was a gen
erosity, such as declared that He who " went about doing good ""
had not lived in vain. Even the " Heathen Chinee " has a heart
in hiB bosom to feel for others' woes.
The San Francisco Alta says that when the Committee in
that city to solicit contributions from the Chinese merchants for
the relief of the Chicago sufferers made known the object of
their visit, the response was a credit to the representatives of that
race who have been treated with indignity on so many occasions,
and are liable at any time to be assaulted when passing through
tho streets. In one case an intelligent merchant said to the
collectors : " Me leadee in Alta, Melican man town all same hap
gone — bnrnee up. Melican man wantee dollas ; some time poor
Melican man strikee Chinaman with blicks ; Chinaman no care.
Alice people Chicago losee everything — wifee and childlen burn
out. Chinaman say allee same my countree peoplee — wantee
help. How muchee dollas you wantee ? Hundled dollas ? Alee
light : you not find enough monee comee me again, give another

410 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
hundled." The contributions thus given by the merchants
reached §1,290.
From the South responses were slow and feeble. Yet Balti
more. Louisville, and some other towns gave nobly, and their
representatives labored personally with efficient energy and wis
dom in the distribution of relief. From Falkland, North Caro
lina, Annie Jones wrote this letter —
Dr. E. J. Goodspeed, Chicago, 111. :
Having just read in the Religious Herald of the great
suffering of the Baptists of Chicago, by. the late fire there, and
wishing to give a little aid, you will please accept one dollar from
a poor Baptist. Give it to some poor sufferer, and may the Lord
open the hearts of many\ others to aid them, is the sincere prayer
of Annie Jones.
This may offset some of those bitter words written upon our
fallen city, and printed in Southern papers, to
" Show how Hs sins mvoked the Sovereign's frown."
This seemed to have been a time for sympathy, and the
cementing of ties, and not for malediction and savage triumph.
So dire a misfortune gave men opportunities to wipe out a dark
past ; for charity Hides a multitude of sins.
And who, hence looking backward o'er his years,
Feois not his eyelids wet with grateful tears,
If he hath been
Permitted, weak and sinful as he was,
To cheer and aid in some ennobling cause,
His fellow-man ?
If he bath hidden the outcast, or let in
A ray of sunshine to the cell of sin —
If he hath lent
Strength to the weak, and in an hour of need,
Over the suffering, mindless of his creed
Or home, hath jent —

THE RELIEF COilillTTEE IN SESSION.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 413
He has not lived in vain. And while he gives
The praise to Him, in whom he moves and lives,
With thankful heart
He gazes backward, and with hope before,
Knowing that from his works he nevermore
Can henceforth part.
Among cities east of us, Cleveland was first to arrive with
bread and raiment; among cities south, Springfield perhaps took
the lead on that memorable morning ; among cities north, Mil
waukee ; and, indeed,' from eveiy point of compass, and grade of
life, help came, and the one aim seemed to be, to do the utmost,
in the speediest possible way, for the miserable sufferers. Phila
delphia, city of brotherly love, showed its fraternal spirit in
ample gifts. Pittsburg, city of iron, rained gold upon us. Bos
ton, seat of all noble charities and beautiful accomplishments,
lavished her thousands, and gave her heartiest toil. Montreal,
the American city of Canada, was glorious in her liberality.
And so, all around the galaxy, every star seemed to excel in
brilliancy to light our darkness ; and when we begin to enumer
ate each bright particular star, they multiply, till we are dazzled
and confounded.

CHAPTER XXVU.

The following official communication sheds clear light upon
the first steps of the citizens' course, and the initiatory acts of
relief, which heralded the incoming of the river-like beneficence
of mankind. It was addressed by the president, Hon. Charles C.
P. Holden, one of our best citizens:
To the Mayor and Aldermen of the City of Chicago, in Common
Council assembled :
Gentlemen : On the Sth and 9th of October last past the-
heart of our city was destroyed by fire. The territory covered
24

4] 4 HISTORY of the great fires
by this terrible conflagration, and the municip.al, commercial, and
private losses sustained by this fire are all familiar; many of you,
having been embraced in its territory, know full well the effect
of thi.-. great calamity by sad experience.
The undersigned desires to call your attention to the manner in
which preliminary measures were taken and arrangements made
for succor and relief.
On Monday morning I tried to get the city government together,
or portions of it, for the purpose of taking some action to meet
the great emergency ; in this we failed. The North Division
was at the time being burned to ruins; its officers were
busily engaged in trying to save their families and the lives
of its inhabitants. The Mayor was in the South Divi&jon, using
every available means to stay the further spread of the fire : in
deed, at this particular time, all seemed to be in a state of chaos,
and all who had thus far escaped the terrible calamity, expected
hourly to be numbered among its victims. At noon of that ever-
memorable day, the undersigned called upon Orrin E. Moore,
and after a few moments' conference with this gentleman, a eene-
nil plan of action was fixed upon. In company with Mr. Moore,
we at once drove to the Police Station, corner of Union and
Madison streets, and after leaving word with Capt. Miller to
have certain parties sent for, and to meet us at the Congrega
tional Church, corner of Ann and Washington streets, at the
earliest possible moment, we repaired to that church, and at a
quarter to one o'clock, in the name of the Citj' of Chicago, we
took possession of tho same. Capt. S. M. Miller, Deputy Super
intendent Wells Sherman, of the Police Department, reported
at once for duty. The Mayor was sent for, and before three
o'clock tho Mayor, Police Commissioner Brown, Hon. S. S. Hayes,
Aid. Wilce, Aid. Witbeek, Aid. Bateham, H. Z. Culver, Dn
Goodwin, and very many other citizens had assembled.
Mr. Hayes drew up a proclamation for general distribution,

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 415
pledging the credit of the City of Chicago for the necessary ex
penses for the relief of the sufferers; calling upon the entire
police force, the Fire Department, and the Health Department
to maintain the peace and good order of the city ; establishing
the head-quarters of the city government at the Congregational
Church, corner Ann and Washington streets. This proclamation
was signed by the Mayor, Comptroller, the President of the Com
mon Council, and President of the Board of Police. An organiza-.
tion was immediately effected for the great work in hand, and-
consisting of the following gentlemen: Orrin E. «TMobre,'Ald_.
Buehler, Aid. Devine, John Herting, Aid. McAvoy, and N.H..
Fairbanks. Orrin E. Moore was chosen President, C. T.Hotchr.
kiss was made Secretary, and C. C- P. Holden, Treasurer. - ".
All the churches and school-houses were thrown open to the
distressed. Delegations were sent out to relieve such as they
could. Scouts were sent to all parts of the city to watch for in
cendiarism, and also to watch and report the progress of the fire*
where it was then raging, and before midnight of Monday many
thousands of special patrolmen had been sworn into the service,
and were doing patrol duty. Major Phelps had been detailed to
get together a corps to aid him in looking after the sufferers in
the South Division. As daylight came on Tuesday, also came
E. B. Harlan, the Private Secretary of Gov. Palmer, tendering
money, troops, and arms ; in fact, John M. Palmer saw at onco
our situation, and took immediate steps to meet the trying emer
gency. Committees from the nation commenced arriving— at the
head of them was the St. Louis delegation — headed by the Hon.
II. T. Blow. Vast quantities of supplies commenced arriving.
Aid. Gill, Aid. McCotter, and Supervisor Pierce took charge of
the work to receive and distribute supplies from that point;
Gen. Mann and Col. Ray took charge of receiving supplies from
the railroads in the West Division, and Gen. Hardin had charge
of all supplies arriving on the railroads in the South Division.

41 G HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
Various parties were placed in charge of the various churches,
school-houses, depots for supplies, etc., etc., to the end that all
tho sufferers by the fire should be cared for at the earliest possi
ble moment. Aid. Wilce was requested to cause to be erected at
once from 100 to 2,000 houses, to be occupied by families then
homeless. He was to take possession of any land suitable for
this purpose. Most energetically did he perform his duty, in
company with Aid. Bateham. The Water Works had been
destroyed, and not only was there great suffering by those who
had been burned out for this most important commodity, but the
suffering was being felt by all classes. Water carts in various
numbers, trucks, drays, express wagons, carriages, buggies, in
fact every vehicle which would not volunteer to aid in the noble
work was pressed into the service — water from the parks and
artesian wells was distributed throughout the city.
The sufferers were brought from the streets and other places to
those where shelter was provided, and before eight p.m. of Tuesday
it was reported by a well-known city officer that every homeless soul
had shelter, food, and water, and when we recollected that 100,000
or more of our citizens had been rendered homeless by the fire, the
result of this day's work must be satisfactory to you. At a meet
ing of the Committee early Wednesday morning, the Treasurer
made a statement to the effect that all moneys should be paid into
the City Treasury, where the safety guard of our municipal gov
ernment would be thrown around it ; and further, that this would
meet the approval of the country at large, whose moneys were
then en route here for our succor. David A. Gage was therefore
appointed Treasurer.
Mr. Moore and his association had now the work well in hand,
considering that the undertaking was less than forty-eight hours
old. An arrangement had been made with the railroads, and a
Bureau established for the issuing of passes to all sufferers by the
fire, another for the lost and found, another for medical purposes.

IN CIHCAGO AND THE WEST. 417
and so on, till there were some eight or ten heads of departments
working for the common good in that church, corner of Ann and
Washington streets. During this day (Wednesday) numerous
quantities of supplies were arriving by every train and on every
road— committees from every principal city in the Union and
Canadas kept pouring in, bringing words of cheer as they came.
Governors of States, too, came — particularly do we remember the
deep interest for the sufferers manifested by Gov. Hayes, of Ohio.
The committee from the nation held their meetings in the church,
arid gave us such advice and information"' as' was calculated to
inspire us with courage. '' :'''iV^ »"':| <«•"•. '. w."'i *.:.iV.[
The Cincinnati committee commenced at once the erection of
a mammoth soup-house, indeed it seemed 'that these committees1
from abroad comprehended the situation even better than our
selves. Everything that could be done in that hour of great dis
tress, by them was done. At their meeting held in the evening
of Wednesday, they had more than one hundred present; the
result of the meeting was the issuing of an address to the nation.
The effect of this address has had a wide-spread influence in mak
ing known to the country our real wants and needs. Thursday,
the 12th, the Chicago Itelief and Aid Society took charge of the
great work then fairly commenced. On Friday evening the com
mittees from abroad held theirfinal meeting. At this meeting tliey
issued an address to the citizens of Chicago. In it they said : " We
are perfectly satisfied to recommend to the country that all moneys
intended for your relief be sent to the City Treasurer, because we
believe they will not only be safe, but will be expended in accord
ance with the wishes of the contributors. It was signed : H. T.
Blow, Chairman Western Committee; A. J. Goshoon, Chairman
Cincinnati Committee ; W. M. Morris, Chairman Louisville Com
mittee. The undersigned remained at the head-quarters first established
until Thursday evening, Oct. 24, doing all that he could do in behalf

418 HISTORY OF THE GEEAT FIRES
of the citv to carrv aid and relief to all the sufferers. In this great
work there had been voluntarily engaged during the first week an
arm v uf our citizens, both male and female, and very many of them
are still in the traces and at work. During this time great
cxpen.-e-i were incurred in the procuring of lumber, nails, etc., for
the building of temporary houses; the providing of all classes of
vehicles for the moving of families and their supplies ; during the
same time the undersigned received numerous advices of the send
ing forward for the relief of the sufferers vast sums of money ; he
also received in person the sum of §42.50 in cash, to wit: Com
mittee from Valparaiso, Indiana, the sum of $40, and from twe
ladies §2.50, all of which was immediately turned over to D. A.,
Gage, treasurer. Before closing this report I desire to call the
attention of the Council to the great good performed by the Board
of Iletdth, who were at the head-quarters night and day till the
24th, doing all that could be done in the line of their profession to
relieve the distressed. To all the members of your honorable
Board I bear witness to the aid and efficiency rendered by you.
Many of you lost your homes and places of business by the fire;
even this did not deter or keep you from rendering aid and assist
ance to others, as well became those occupying the positions you
do. To the ladies, who rendered great assistance on this most
trying occasion, no words can express the encomiums they have
earned — their names are legion.
Gentlemen, I have deemed it my duty to make this statement
to you of matters pertaining to the great fire and subsequent
thereto, and would ask your kind consideration of the same.
In connection with this important contribution to the history
of relief, we publish tho following address to the citizens of Chi
cago, written October 13th, which was referred to above:
The undersigned respectfully call your attention to the follow
ing i'acts : The committees from the principal cities of the West,
with food and supplies of all kinds, have been in your city since

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. ' 419
last Monday night; they assembled at the head-quarters of the
Mayor and City Council, corner of Ann and Washington streets,
and have since co-operated with Alderman Holden and other
members of the Council. Mr. Moore and his associates beins the
only organization known to tliein in the city for the relief of the
sufferers by the great fire, the St. Louis supplies, with large
quantities intrusted to the delegation from Indiana and Illinois,
were distributed by General Hardie, who in person, under orders
of General Sheridan, placed them, as we believe, most judiciously.
We attest most heartily to the unselfish and arduous services, ren
dered by Alderman Holden, Mr. Moore and his associate, mem-
l)ers, the Mayor, and many of the Common Council, Mr. Preston,
of the Board of Trade, and especially General Sheridan and his
aids, and yet deem it a duty to say to you that it is now
absolutely essential that the work be systematically and econom
ically extended, that ample arrangements should at once be made
for the reception and careful distribution of coming supplies, by
an organization which will satisfy yourselves and encourage your
friends to continued action. We are perfectly satisfied to recom
mend to the country that all moneys intended for your relief be
sent to the City Treasurer, because we believe that they will not
only be safe, but will be expended in accordance with the wish
of the contributors; but from the facts presented we trust you
will see the actual necessity for the systematic arrangement
alluded to ; and now that your best men can calmly survey the
condition without fear of the future, we again most earnestly beg
that you will take immediate steps for a thorough and permanent
organization, that will be entirely equal to the great work before
them. Henry P. Blow,
Ch. of the Western Committees
A. T. Gosiiorn,
Ch. of Cincinnati Committee.
Wm. M. Morris,
Ch. of Louisville Committee.

420 niSTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
And herewith is presented the Mayor's order, which gave univer
sal satisfaction :
" I have deemed it best for the interests of this city to tnrn over
to the Chicago Belief and Aid Society all contributions for suf-
foi-imr people in this city. This Society is an incorporated, old-
establir-hed organization, and has possessed for many years the
entire confidence of our community, and is familiar with the
work to be done. The regular force of this Society is inadequate
to this immense work, but they will rapidly enlarge and extend.
the same by adding prominent citizens to the respective commit
tees ; and I call upon all citizens to aid this organization in every
possible way. I also confer upon them the power, heretofore
exercised by the Citizens' Committee, to impress teams and labor,
and to procure quarters so far as may be necessary for the trans
portation, distribution, and care of the sick and disabled.
" General Sheridan desires this arrangement, arid has promised
to co-operate with this association. It will be seen from the plan
of work detailed below, that every precaution has been taken
in regard to the distribution of the contributions."
Up to the time of this step towards a more thorough and ju
dicious management of supplies for relief, there had been various
points selected in the unburnt district, especially churches, where
the hon.-eless found shelter and food.
The rush to these depositories of food, and places of rest for the
outcast multitude, was in many cases overwhelming and fearful.
In my own church, every lower room was occupied by the sick as
a hospital, by mothers as a nursery, by the committee on
distribution, and for storage of goods and provisions. Orders
from our committee were honored at the Rink, where the supplies
were gathered for general distribution, and immense loads would
melt away like snow in the summer sun. There was no lack of
helpers to succor the unfortunate. We could not find work
enough for those who were anxious to assist in caring for their

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 421
more unfortunate fellow-citizens. Hundreds were comfortably
lodged on the benches, which were cushioned. There was a re
cord of missing, lost and found, kept in the church, and hundreds
daily searched it ; and in several instances the long-separated met
together in the sanctuary. A colored girl saved a charming
white baby, and the exigencies of flight drove her here, and the
mother found her beautiful child safely cared for by its nurse.
Death came also to some who were hospitably entertained, and
they gave up their lives in peace within the walls which often
echoed to the message of eternal life. ¦;,.,. lV^(, . j.ro1.Ii..t) ,. ,, .
When shelter, tents, and barracks had been, provided, one by
one the lodgers left the church, every one being presented with a
cushion and a blanket. The same scenes were enacted on every
hand in the churches, which were homes, where the beautiful
hand of charity gave cheer and aid, with kind words and tender
acts. One learned to love the Chicagoans more, when we saw
their self-sacrificing devotion to the welfare of their neighbors,
amidst their own desolation, losses, and forebodings of coming
want, or fears of present peril. Yet there were instances of des
picable thieving, pilfering, and hypocritical pretence, which out-
rivalled anything we ever read of in history. Some parties made
raids upon the public bounty, and supplied themselves with a
winter's stock. There was a woman in one of the churches who
got upon her person and in her bundle twenty-seven dresses.
Wherever these instances were found'they were speedily punished,
and imposition was checked. But in the first hurry an«I pressure
of want there was too little opportunity for discrimination ; and
people said, we must not let any one suffer, even though impos
tors share with the actually destitute. It was soon seen that there
must be careful, faithful discrimination, or the supply would bo
gone and the want unrelieved. At this juncture the entire matter
was committed to the organization called the Chicage Relief and
Aid Societv.

42:

HISTORY OF THE GEEAT FIRES

CHAPTER XXVIII.
While the boundless charity of the great-hearted American
public made it po.-.-iblu to feed, clothe, and comfort one hundred
thousand persons in an incredibly short period, so that the very
poor fared better than it was their wont to do, and all classes
were blest in some measure, the necessity of an efficient associa
tion for permanent and deeper work was instantly apparent, and
grew more urgent every hour. This was the crisis, too, for the
machinery of our Aid Society to be applied to the greatest prob
lem of the century ; and nobly has it met the emergency. Under
the superin tendency of a warm-hearted 'and large-minded Chris
tian gentleman, Mr. 0. C. Gibbs, it had been for years efficient
in providing for the large number of poor people always crowd
ing around its doors, and so investigating their claims that
imposition was well-nigh impossible. It was found all ready for
indefinite expansion, and assumed the control of all contributions
of every "kind, except those sent to individuals. Its visitors were
sent through districts to every house, and all applications were
investigated thoroughly, and when worthy sufferers applied, they
were at once provided with what they needed for the time, and
arrangements made to issue them rations till they could become
self-supporting. The accompanying directions aud information
were funii.shed by printed circulars :—
T<> all Siipi'r/nfriidt'nts, A.<sisfants and Visitors in the Service
of the (.'hit-ago J'</i,f and Aid Society :
In the distribution of supplies give uncooked instead of cooked
food to all families provided with stoves ; flour instead of bread,
etc. The Shelter Committee furnish all families for whom thev
provide houses and barracks, with stove, bedstead, and mattrass,
and no issue of those articles to such families will be necessary
on your part.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 423
Superintendents of Districts and Sub-Districts will so keep an
account of their disbursements as to give a correct report to me
at the end of each week, the number of families aided during the
week, and the amount, in gross, of supplies distributed.
Superintendents will also ascertain and report, as early as pos
sible, the amount of furniture, number of stoves, amount of
common crockery, etc., which will be needed in their respective
districts. 
Superintendents will also organize their working force as early
as possible, retaining upon their force those- who have proved
themselves the most efficient and capable in the discharge of their
duties, reducing the number of paid- employes to the sriiallest
number consistent with the efficient performance of the work of
their districts. '...... • .
A special organization charged with the relief of special cases
is being effected, to which all that class of persons whose previous
condition and circumstances in life were such as to make it
unsuitable that they should be relieved through the ordinary
channels of relief, can be referred.
Xo person in the employ of the Society will be allowed to
receive for his own use any supplies of any kind whatever,
except it be through the ordinary channels of relief, and recorded
on the books of the office in wliich he is employed.
In all cases of applicants moving into your district from
another, you will, before giving any relief, ascertain, by inquiry
at the office of the district from which they came, if they had
been aided in that district, and to what extent.
In the issue of supplies you will discriminate according to the
health and condition of the family, furnishing to the aged, infirm,
and delicate, supplies not ordinarily _ furnished to those in robust
health. The following has been adopted by the Society as the standard
daily ration for a family of five persons ; you will vary from the

424 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
amount according to the income of the family from labor or other
sources :
Bacon or pi >rk  2 pounds.
or beef  3 "
Beans  1 pint.
Potatoes  2 quarts.
Bread  3 pounds.
or flour  2 "
Tea  1 ounce.
or coffee  2£ "
Sugar  4 "
Rice  4 "
Soap  4 "
Soft coal  £ ton per month.
The Department of Sick and Hospitals have adopted the sys
tem of Districts and Sub-Districts established by this department.
and appointed a medical officer for each District. Visitors will
report all cases coming to their knowledge requiring medical
attendance, and the person in charge of each office will have
such reports at all times in readiness for the medical officer of the
District, when he calls. All possible aid must be given the med
ical officer of the District, and he is to be allowed free access to
the office and books of the Society at all times.
The bread now being furnished is contracted for by the pound.
You will be furnished with platform scales, and required to
weigh and receipt for all bread delivered to yon.
Superintendents and Visitors in those districts in which the
Shelter Committee have furnished houses to men who were
burned out, will inquire carefully into the condition and circum
stances of: till persons who have been furnished houses by the
Shelter Committee, and report to Mr. Avery, Chairman, all
cases in which parties have obtained lumber or building material
by fraudulent representations.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 425
The Chicago Relief and Aid Society will, for the coming winter,
have to provide for all of the poor of the city, as there will be no
distribution of the out-door relief by the County Agent as here
tofore. While your fii-st care should be for those who have lost
all by the fire, those that are not direct sufferers by it must be
aided according to their necessities. The loudest complaints
will come from those least deserving, who are always on hand for
their share when any distribution is to be made or relief given.
You will have to refuse the application of many worthy people,
who, having lost heavily by the fire, will think themselves entitled
to a share of the relief fund, although still possessed of the means
or ability to meet their present wants. .YouVill explain to such
as kindly as possible that the relief fund is not intended to make
good losses by the fire ; that it can be used only to prevent and re
lieve actual suffering. ¦:' :
We are not yet in a condition to be even liberal in disburse
ments. Three months hence we will be in better condition to
decide how far we can be liberal than now.
In the matter of fuel, soft coal only will be furnished to those
whose stoves will burn it; hard coal only to those who cannot
burn soft. ]N"o wood will be furnished, except for hospital use,
and in case of sickness in families where it is necessary.
Those having wood stoves will be furnished with grates to en
able them to burn soft coal. The Chicago & Wilmington Coal
Company, and the Chicago Relief Society's yard can furnish only
soft coal; until further orders hard coal will be furnished by
Ames & Co. and B. Holbrooke & Co.
As fast as your stores will permit, give out a week's supply of
food to those families whose cases have been thoroughly investi
gated — this can soon be increased to two weeks, which by so large
ly diminishing the number of daily applicants will enable you
to dispense with a large part of the working force in your offices

420

niSTORY OF THE GEEAT FIRES

and stores, and relieve the applicants of the humiliation of dailv
attendance upon your office to obtain their supplies.
You will instruct those families who have been visited and
found worthy, ami who will require aid during the winter, to
make their applications to you hereafter in writing, either
through the mail, or by the hand of a child, or some other
messenger. It is ti terrible trial to a sensitive woman or honor
able-minded man to be compelled to make a personal application
at a relief office, and we must so arrange our work to relieve such
as far as possible of this necessity. On receiving such application.
the necessary orders for supplies can he made, and the supplies
sent directly to the family. To fill these orders you will require,
the services of an experienced retail groceiy clerk, and one or
more express or grocery wagons for delivery.
I am informed that large numbers of servant girls are unem
ployed in the city, who refuse to go to employment at good
wages in the country or other cities. Be sure that none such
are fed by the Chicago Relief and Aid Society. H there was
ever a time when every person capable of earning his or her
own support should be made to do it, it is now. Help must
even be withheld from families who harbor persons able to work,
but who are unemployed. In all cases where help is discontinued
or refused to families, your books must show the reason for
such discontinuance or refusal.
There are several thousand men and bovs workine this week
whose families wc are feeding, who will be paid for their work on
Saturday night, sufficient to meet all the wants of the familv for
food or fuel next week. Be sure that every such family is known
in your district, and reported at the office, so that no more supplies
be given to it. Our supplies are going at a fearful rate. If any
liion, boys, or women are not working, apply St. Paul's rule:
"If any man among you will not. work, neither let him eat."
I think it will be conceded that the generous confidence be-

in cnicAGo Aim the west. 427
stowed upon us in the following paragraph from a New York
editorial, was justified by the manner in which these funds were
distributed, and the supplies continue to be dispensed : " To feed,
shelter, and clothe these suffering thousands, without waste or
misapplication, will require all that executive capacity which
the Chicago people eminently possess. But no one need fear
that the relief so generously poured out will not be judiciously
distributed. Difficult as must be the onranization of a force to
superintend and move the machinery to be called into operation,
we know enough of keen, practical ^ Chicago, t to .confide to Jthe
hands of its business men all the gifts .which .they are to receive^
in, trust for the whole suffering people." •.:,'ji.ij-'» >«{. .•?.-¦¦ .»<>:&-»;>«>•.¦
.There were cases where men, dressed in .a little brief author
ity, or impatient under the accumulation of petty annoyances
from the vast stream of applicants at the depots for distribution,
gave just cause of offence on the part of sufferers. There were
insults given and hardships endured. Wild rumors of extensive
peculations ran over the city. Fault-finding was as prevalent
then and there as might have been expected ; but the gentlemen
connected with the Society labored zealously and with extraordi
nary judgment and patience to satisfy the clamors of the eager
thousands who thronged them. In their instructions to employ
es the Society said : —
In all your intercourse with applicants for relief, your man
ners to and treatment of them should be kind and considerate.
You will have to render aid to many families whose condition is
one of chronic pauperism, resulting from their vices or improvi
dence. This class you can never satisfy ; like the daughters of the
horse-leech, their constant cry is "give," but the great majority of
your applicants will be people who have suddenly been reduced
from a condition of self-support, and in many cases of affluence,
to one of partial or entire dependence. Their case is a sufficiently
painful one without anything in your intercourse with them tc

428 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
remind them that they are now dependent upon charity. You
will give such persons the preference over the class first named,
so far as it is possible for you to do so, in receiving their applica
tion and supplying their wants, and let your intercourse with
them be such that they will ever after look upon you as a friend
in their time of need. While you may not be able to supply all
their wants, convince them, by the kindness of your manners arid
your interest in their behalf, that you are doing all that is in
vonr power to do for them.
In the press of business at your office, you will not be able to'
give much personal attention to a statement of their wants arid
necessities, but the visitors at their homes can do so ; hence it is
of the utmost importance that your visitors be persons fitted by
character and experience for these delicate duties. .
The Superintendents will be required to dismiss from their
further employ any person whose manner has been nncourteous
or unkind to applicants for relief.
The Bureau of Special Assistance is now in active operation,
with head-quarters at the Church of the Messiah, Wabash ave
nue, near Hubbard court. Applications to this Bureau can be
made either in person or by letter, addressed to its head-quar
ters, or through any pastor of the churches of the city, as may
best suit the inclination or convenience of the applicant.
Superintendents of districts and sub-districts will fill from their
stores all orders addressed to them by this Bureau without ques
tion, the necessary investigation having in all cases been made
by the Special Bureau.
This allusion to the Bureau of Special Assistance requires a
few words of explanation, since it grew out of the exigencies of
the situation and supplemented the regular society's work. There
was a vast* number of cases where families or individuals had
suffered the loss of all things, whose circumstances in life had
been above all need, and whose delicacy of feeling would not per-

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 431
mit them to stand in line with hundreds of the very poor, degra
ded, and foreign applicants who unblushingly pushed themselves
into the front ranks. Many had been educated to abhor depend
ence as something worse than death. I recollect one boy of sev
enteen, who said one morning after sermon, " I can't stand it any
longer, pastor ; we six are eating from a wash-stand, and sleeping
on the floor ; I must tell you about it. I thought to work and
get along, but we can barely get enough to eat. We were burnt
out and lost everything except what we had on, and I have my
three younger brothers to look after." " Of course," I replied,
"you 6hall be attended to at once," and before forty-eight hours
things were changed in that house, and no application was made
to the Society.. This boy has no father or mother, and I wrote of
the case, after we relieved it, to a friend, who writes " To the
boy who takes care of his helpless brothers " : —
" East Orange, K J., Nov. 27, 1871.
"My Young Friend : — I do not know your name, but Rev. Mr.
Goodspeed, in a letter to me, spoke of you as one of those worthy
ones who had suffered by the fire. He spoke of your corn-age and
brotherly care over some younger brothers.
" That letter I read to some of my friends, and one of them,
some days after, handed me these same bills, " for the boy who
took care of his younger brothers." Fidelity, my young friend,
will always be rewarded. " Very truly yours,
" Wm. D. Hedden,
" Pastor of E 0. B. Ch."
To meet the multiplying cases of this kind that were known
and suspected, a meeting of pastors and representatives of
benevolent organizations took place, at which a committee was
chosen, by consent of the Relief and Aid Society, to constitute a
25

432 niSTORY OF THE great fires
Bureau of Special Relief. This splendid measure of assistance
has proved of incalculable benefit to thousands, who otherwise
must have suffered alone, and unknown to any but God who seeth
all. At lirst there was a delay in securing men who could give
their time to this important service. When the Committee had
been filled, another meeting was held, at which these resolutions
were passed, and' the Xew Bureau was fully launched : —
Whereas, The great exigency of public relief demands immedi
ate, large, and constant service in special council and assistance,
and Whereas, We learn that a portion of the Executive Committee
originally appointed by this Bureau has been unable to meet the
demands of this great work, on account of their inability to serve
at all, and of others to give any considerable service ; therefore,
Resoleed, That the Bureau cordially endorse the action of the
Executive Committee in filling the vacancies in that body by add
ing to its members gentlemen widely known as wise, efficient, and
eminently fitted to carry on the work.
Resoh-ed, That the Church of the Messiah, the depot of special
supplies, be also the place of special meeting of the Committee,
and that said Committee be hereby instructed to make arrange
ments among themselves so as to have at least three of their mem
bers, two gentlemen and one lady, in attendance at the office dur
ing all theliours in which the depot is open for distribution.
Rexiili-rtJ. That all churches and beneficial societies should re
gard themselves as special bureaus for council and relief, and feel
responsible, not only for looking up and bringing to the relief sup
ply through the appointed channels those who have been overlooked
and arc deserving, but also especially to guard the munificent boun
ty of the nation from plundering waste and ravaging imposture.
And they are hereby earnestly exhorted to use their easy ap
proach to the masses, through necessary meetings and supervision, '
to prevent the Executive Committee of this Bureau and the Gen-

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 433
eral Board of Relief from being overwhelmed by a countless mul
titude of unworthy or doubtful applications.
This gave pastors and others great opportunities, and imposed
grave responsibilities. Their hands were soon full, and the reve
lations of need yet unprovided for, after three weeks had elapsed,
were truly startling. We had not realized the appalling magni
tude of the calamity, though in its very midst.
And we may ask, who will ever apprehend it, in all its gigantic
proportions ?
The "Special Relief" committee, charged with aiding cases
of peculiar delicacy, from the former respectabihty of the sufferers,
learned of a gentleman who, before that terrible night of- the
fire, was worth between $150,000 and $200,000. He boarded
with his family at one of our splendid marble palaces known as
hotels, where his elegantly furnished apartments and luxurious
table, indicated his wealth and ministered to his ease. The next
that was heard of him was some days after the fire, when he ap
plied to the committee, saying that the fire had literally burned
up even- dollar of his fortune, and he had no money, no home,
no clothes, no furniture, and no food ! His family were living
in a stable, sleeping on the hay, and eating the cold potatoes and
bread which the children bested from the neighbors !
The duties of applicants were thus set forth in a notice by this
Bureau, which shows the public what care was exercised with
their bounties.
All applications to this Committee for Special Relief, must be
certified by the pastor of a church, or proper officer of some or
ganized benevolent society, or by a member of the Executive
Committee of the Relief and Aid Society, or of this Committee,
who shall state in such certificate that the condition and needs
of the applicant have been duly investigated, to the satisfaction
of the persons so certifying, and stating what amount and kind
of relief should be afforded to such applicant.

434 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
In every application, the name, residence, and relief district in
which sin-h applicant lives, should be plainly written.
Such application should state whether the applicant is married
or -iti-lc, the number of persons in the applicant's family, the age
and -ex ut' each member, and should set forth in detail the articles
which arc wanted, and the number, amount, or quantity of such
articles. Iu applications for clothing, the kind of clothing, and
number of pieces needed of each kind, should be distinctly
stated, the proper sizes, where necessary (as of boots, shoes, and
other articles), given.
Applications for groceries should state specifically the articles
wanted, and amounts of each article, and wkere crockery, or
furniture, or bedding is needed, the specific articles wanted, and
the number of such articles should be stated.
The committee desire to call the attention of the applicant
specially to the following points, in regard to which information
will be desired, and which should be stated : —
The present and former occupation of the applicant, whether
burned out and what loss they suffered, amount of insurance and
in what company, what property applicant has, and what aid they
have received from any source, or expect to receive.
Careful attention to these requirements will save the applicant
delay and trouble, and insure prompt action in the case.
The railroads gave free transportation to seven or eight thou
sand persons, who left the city for refuge under friendly roofs
elsewhere, or to obtain employment, and brought in the stores
that were contributed without charge, thus conferring benefits of
immense value upon our people. On the eleventh of October,
two days after the fire, the Erie Railroad had its relief cars on
the way at ten in the morning. The train consisted of seven care
heavily laden with provisions. Mr. George Crouch went with
it as supercargo, and delivered the freight to the Mavor of
Chicago. The train averaged about fifty miles an hour to Port

IN CHICAGO AND 'THE 'WEST. 435
Jervis. It reached Susquehanna at 3.05 p.m., and was last
reported at Elinira, making unprecedented time to that point.
Dense crowds of enthusiastic people were assembled at the depots
in the principal towns, and many attempted to throw bundles on
the train as it flew past.
On the evening- of that day, Col. James Fisk, Jr., writes: —
We received to-day, since the departure of the lightning relief
train at 10 o'clock this morning, over 10,000 consignments for the
sufferere at Chicago, which were forwarded by the express train
at 7 o'clock this evening. It would be almost impossible to
enumerate the contents of the packages or their vidue ; but as far
as we can judge, taking the entire shipment,- nothing could be
more appropriate had a month been occupied in the selection. "' I
find that in a single consignment there were shipped 100 coats,
100 pairs of trousers, 100 vests, while another consignment
included 400 barrels of sugar and coffee, and still another con
sisted of 100 barrels of flour. A person competent to judge, who
inspected the goods forwarded to Chicago by this single train,
estimated their cash value at over $100,000.
We have, from appearance, as much, if not more, to receive
to-morrow, which we shall forward? by our express trains only at
9 a.m., 12 m., 5-J- p.m., and 7 p.m.
It were idle to attempt an enumeration of the kindly offices of
the railways, which made Chicago, which have ministered to it
in distress, and must recreate and secure the future.
AMOUNT OF MONEY RECEIVED.
From the appended circular it will be seen what had been
received in contributions from every source, down to November
7, 1871.
The Executive Committee of the Chicago Relief and Aid So
ciety are aware that the public desire to know the amount of the
subscriptions to the Relief Fund. It is impossible at present to

430 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
give a detailed account of the amounts, for the reason that pur
cha.scs made in some cities, invoices of which have not yet
reached us, are to be deducted from the gross amounts of the
.-.ub.-criptions. The previous report of our Treasurer stated the
titiv unit actually received at that date. We are now able to give
the amount received to this date, November 7th, and the probable
amount of the entire subscriptions, with approximate accuracy.
We have actually received two million fifty-one thousand twenty-
three dollars and fifty-five cents ($2,051,023.55). Arrangements
have been made by which the Society draws five per cent, on all
balances in bank. So far as our present information goes — and
we think we have advices of all sums subscribed — the entire fund
will vary but little from three million five hundred thousand dol
lars (8-3,500,000). This includes the funds in the hands of the
New York Chamber of Commerce, amounting to about $600,000,
and the balance of the Boston Fund, about $240,000, both
amounting to $840,000, not yet placed to the credit of this So
ciety, but which may undoubtedly be relied upon to meet the
needs of the future. As to our disbui-sements, we can only say
that we arc at present aiding 60,000 people at our regular dis
tributing points. Some of this vast number we relieve in part-
only, but the greater portion to the extent of their entire support.
This is in addition to the work of the Special Relief Committee
for people who ought not to be sent to the general distributing
points, and which is largely increasing upon our hands. It is
also in addition to tho expenditures of the Committee on Exist
ing Charitable Institutions.
The groat matter pressing upon the Committee is shelter for the
coming winter. We may feed people during the mild weather,
but where and how they are to be housed — permanently housed
— we regard sis the serious question. To this end we have been
aiding those burned out to replace small but comfortable houses
upon their own, or upon leased lots, where they can live, not

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 437
only this winter, but next summer, and be ready to work in re
building the city. Of these houses — which are really very com
fortable, being 16 by 20 feet, with two rooms, one 12 by 16 feet,
and one S by 16 feet, with a planed and matched floor, panel
doors, and good windows — we have already furnished over 4,000,
making permanent homes, allowing five for a family, for 20,000
people, and with the 7,000 houses which we expeot to build, shall
have homes for 35,000 people. These houses and some barracks,
in both of which there is a moderate outfit of furniture, such as
stoves, mattresses, and a little crockery, will consume, say $1,250-
000, leaving $2,250,000 with which to meet all the demands for
food, fuel, clothing, and general expenses, from the 13th of Octo
ber last — when we took the work — until the completion of the
same, which cannot possibly end with the present winter^ We
may say that particular attention has been paid to sanitary regu
lations. The entire work in this respect, as in others, is district
ed. Medical visitors, dispensaries, and hospitals are provided.
The Committee need hardly say, that if the demand should
continue as great as at present, the fund would be exhausted by
midwinter ; but we hope to cut this down very largely as soon as
we can get people into houses, so that they can leave their fami
lies and find work. Indeed this is being done already. Within
a few days we shall arrive at the exact daily expense of food and
fuel rations ; but the demand, as might be expected, is a fluctu
ating one. If the weather is good and men can work, it falls off :
if cold and stormy, it at once increases at a fearful rate.
The work has so pressed upon us, night and day, that we can
not present a detailed report to the public, but furnish this state
ment for the purpose of affording a general idea of what we have
clone and are trying to do, with an organization necessarily com
posed largely of unskilled forces, but the only one at hand for
the emergency. Within the next ten days we shall be able to
o-ive a detailed report of the work as well as all sums contributed.

438 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
December 1st, this sum had been swelled to $2,508,000, with
the current .-till flowing steadily into the treasury.
Of other i^if'ts, the value is known to One, who sees the wid
ow's mite as well as the millionaire's mightier help. But we
cannot estimate the worth of all that vast store which was made
upas rivers are — by ten thousand rivulets, brooks, and streams
incessantly emptying in their precious contents.

CHAPTER XXIX.
In addition to these organizations, there were movements
amonic the citizens, and the Touns Men's Christian Association
early entered the field, with their forces generalled by Rev.
Robert Patterson, D.D., who labored during the war in the
Christian Commission. Their head-quarters were at the Seventh
Presbyterian Church, and their charities were immense. Parties
from Bnston eaine on and superintended the distribution of the
supplies from that city. Their work was largely among those
who were not well served at the general relief depots, or who
were looked up and searched out, on account of pride, or sick
ness, or si mie inability, moral or physical, to make application in
person. There was also the Woman's Christian Union, a society par
ticularly concerned with the employment of women, who now
supplemented this service with a relief duty, always aiming at
securing means by which the poor women could become self-
sustaining. They rendered most valuable aid to the suffering.
Societies sprang into being on all sides, and made their appeals
to the churches and benevolent societies, and their acquaintances
throughout the land. They obtained clothing, made up gar
ments from new cloth, nursed the sick, and gave a helpful hand

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 439
to any whom they found neglected in the crowd of miserable
beings that overflowed into every street, alley, garret, and cellar
of the unburn t city.
Private citizens donated from their own houses all that they
could spare, in many instances, and vied with the outside public
in liberality. It was pitiful to see the burned-out parties, the
morning of Monday and of Tuesday, begrimed, soiled, scorched,
bearing a little truck, a trifling remnant of their possessions, to
the homes of their friends, and begging for temporary shelter.
But it was grand to observe the nobleness of the many, and their
perfect sympathy with the distressed, vf And rising to the height
of their obligation, our people are preparing for a campaign
against poverty and misery, by leaguing in societies for service
to the poor, that shall relax no effort during the long winter now
marching down upon us. Rich and prosperous communities
become greedy, selfish, covetous, and money-worshippers. It
remains for us to prove the benefit of adversity by opening our
hearts and hands to give and not to save. "Alms the salt of
riches," is an old proverb. I know a man ruined by this fire,
who was veiy rich, and refused to lend a poor woman fifty
dollars, in an extremity, to save her house and furniture from
the sheriff. He had known her for many years, and she had
claims upon him ; but no, he loved his money, and turned the
poor woman off with stern denial. The week before the fire, she
came to the gentleman who lent her the money — a poor man,
and a minister — and paid it with interest, thanks, and tears.
This gave the clergyman spending-money after the fire. And
Itow must the miser feel — yea, and many otliers like him — who
have been close-fisted, hard-hearted, niggardly, and avaricious ?
The worldling saves his money, yea, and the Christian too, for his
children. But how often does its possession curse them. An
eccentric D.D., in the course of a sermon in behalf of some
charitable object, once said, "There are twenty men in this con-

440 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
^re^ation who can give $20,000 each to this charity, and then
have money enough left to ruin their children." Now there is an
opportunity for the young men and women to show the quality
of their characters. We shall be a better people for this trial, it
we give with full-handed generosity^ and learn that
" To give is to live,
To deny is to die."
Among the impossibilities is any just acconnt of the aid re
ceived by the sufferers ; because large amounts of moneys and
supplies have been sent to private individuals, for personal use or
disbursement; and thousands have gone home to their friends,
who have proffered shelter and food for the winter. In time
a book will be written, acknowledging these grand charities in a
befitting manner.
From a New York paper we clip the story of the reception of
certain refugees from the fire.
A few evenings ago eight newsboys of Chicago arrived in this
city and sought shelter at the Newsboys' Lodging-House in Park
Place. On Saturday six more arrived and went to the same
home, and on Sunday four more. The ages of these youths were
from .-ixteen to nineteen years. One of them, a lad of eighteen,
had his face very much scorched by the fire, and some of the
others were disfigured to some extent from the same cause.
Those who arrived on Friday night left the next morning to
seek friends in this city or in Brooklyn, the six who came on
Saturday, wi:h the four who arrived on Sunday, remained in the
Lodging-II<nise until Monday afternoon, when they, too, left in
pursuit, ut' friend:.. The New York boys gave their brothers of
the West a very cordial reception, and as far as their little means
allowed, lavished upon them a generous welcome. The New
"\ ork boys, all so much younger than the Chicagoans, were
] profuse in their expressions of sympathy, albeit uttered in the
vernacular of the profession, and poured out volleys of inquiries

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 441
as to the state of trade in the ill-fated city. The usual sports of
the evening were stopped immediately on the arrival of the
immigrants, and each visitor, after a hearty meal, formed a
centre of attraction for a score of boys, each of whom had some
thing to learn of the great fire. Sunday was a great opportunity
for the exchanging of notes, it being comparatively a dull day, and
the new arrivals of the evening previous were escorted to favorite
haunts and lionized to an extraordinary degree. Those of the
boys who had belonged to the boot-blacking profession very
warmly discussed the depression of prices' in that line, and though
it was unanimously agreed upon that the profession should be on
all occasions retained by a "choker" fee, yet, all things con
sidered, it was deemed best just now not to enter upon that
dangerous experiment, a " strike." The Chicagoans were loud in
their admiration of Peter B. Sweeny, who, they said, deserved
the presentation of a set of complimentary resolutions on account
of his great services to the shine-em-up boys in beautifying the
City Hall Park. Regrets were expressed that all the fountains
were not in working order, as they are very inviting to custom
ers. The Chicagoans urged upon their New York brothers to
establish their headquarters around the fountain in front of the
City Hall when completed, and not under any circumstances to
yield their right on this point. It was also suggested that as
man}- portable chairs as possible be provided, with a view to
placing business on a footing more conformable to ordinary mer
cantile pursuits. It was said that the experience of a series
of years has demonstrated that " chairs are good." The news
boys learned with great satisfaction that the people of Chicago
were a newspaper reading community, and did not stick at
trifles. All that was necessary to do in case of small change was
to delay a few miuutes in procuring it, and the " gent" was sure
to " get." Harmony among members of the profession was also
an admirable feature in Chicago, everybody " working his own

442 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIEES
route" on the square and with no nonsense. The Chicago dele
gation was enlightened as to how trade stood in New York, and
a comparative estimate given as to the daily receipts afforded by
every evening paper in the city. Discussing these topics and
similar ones the boys passed the day, and after a hearty supper at
the Lodging-IIoiinC in the evening, again resumed the entertain
ment. Cordial invitations were extended to the Chicagoans to
join the honorable brotherhood of New York, and assurances
extended that a most friendly reception awaited them in the
arena of competition. No decisive answer was given to the New
Yorkers' offer; but evidently the Chicago boys were deeply im
pressed with the tone and boyish bearing of their new acquaint
ances, and promised that if ever they should again return to
" that line of business" New York City should be the theatre in
which their ambition should have a chance. When it was ap
proaching bedtime it was felt by New York that it was neces
sary to do something grand on an occasion like that then being
celebrated, and why should not the newsboys have a say of
sympathy as well as every other branch of business? This idea
became so impressed upon the mind of one of the boys — a sort of
leader of a set— that he summed up courage, and, rising, said : —
Gentlemen, — You know about the Chicago fire, and that
these gentlemen (pointing to the ten Chicagoans) are sufferers.
I now want to tell 'em that we're sorry for 'em. Our subscrip
tion list is making up, and I heard Mr. O'Connor say 'twill
amount to $8 . 25, which they will get, though ic's small and not
as much as we'd like to. That's all I have to say, except that if
these gentlemen stay here we'll post 'em.
Another Boy. — Billy, propose a resolution.
Billy. — I move that we're awful sorry for the sufferings of the
newsboys and black-a-boots of Chicago, and that if they stay we v
post 'em, and that anything we can do we'll do to help 'ein, and
that we're sorry it ain't more than $S,25.

TN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 443
Great applause followed from all the other boys.
One of the Chicago youths then rose, after some hesitation, and
said : —
" Thankee, gents, for what ye've done, an if it weren't that we
had to go and see some friends we'd like to stay. Maybe, though,
we'll come back."
At this moment the Superintendent appeared on the scene,
and this, was the signal for the adjournment of the meeting sine
die. • ¦¦•'"••tM> ¦¦¦ ¦
The boys then went to their " little beds " and to sound sleep,
New Yorkers to dream of Chicago, and the Chicagoans of the
great fire and their recent hardships. *'' '"- '"¦ *¦•'' • '-",
A little Irish boy, Tim, employed in a" bake-shop, sent five dol
lars from East Orange, N. J.
And here speaks a voice from Old England :
" CONYNGHAM-ROAD, VICTORIA PARK, )
'• Manchester, Oct. 16, 1871. f
" My Dear Mr. Mayor : As you have convened a meeting, to
be held to-morrow, of the inhabitants of Sheffield, to consider what
measure should be taken to relieve the sufferers at Chicago, in the
United States of America, under the calamity which has so sud
denly befallen them, I beg leave, as a native of the borough over
which you worthily preside as Chief Magistrate, to offer a contri
bution of two hundred guineas to the fund intended to be raised,
for which sum I inclose a check payable to your order. I am
gratified to learn that the people of America will accept the ex
pression of sympathy and sorrow in this country, in the kindly
sense in which it will be offered to them ; and I consider it to be
a privilege to have the opportunity of uniting in this undoubted
sentiment of affection and regard of the inhabitants of Great
Britain and Ireland towards the people of Ameri ;a.
" May we and they ever be one people under our respective

444 niSTORY OF THE great fires
governments; and be bound together as lovers of freedom to the
end of time. I have the honor to be your very obedient servant,
" George Hadfield.
" To the Mayor of Sheffield."
The good Queen has thought of us and given for our relief.
She reads every word of the tidings from our city with intense
interest. Her subjects have also responded, in a most creditable
manner, to the silent appeal of our distress. There is a very pro
found regard for our country in the old world, and the ties that
bind us together are strengthened by these expressions of active
charity. Scarcely a hamlet in the British Isles can be found
which has not its representative here, either among the humble
or the influential. We are essentially cosmopolitan, and the
world have taken us up, to nurse and cherish in our fall. It is
true as ever, that one touch of nature makes the whole world
kin. The natural feelings of all Christendom have been touched
bv the unvoiced woe of Chicago. The magnitude of this generous
work, and the spontaneity of the timely giving, fitly symbolize the
community of interest and feeling which now bind the human
family together.

CHAPTER XXX.

Besides the magnificent gifts for the body and for immediate
comfort, there have been systematic and general efforts in aid of
the churches and educational institutions, which must result in
placing them once more in a position of usefulness and stability.
It is impossible to chronicle these donations, as the tide is still
flowing in upon us. Orders and societies are rising in their mMit,
all over the land, to rebuild and re-establish the institutions lost
in Chicago. Christians, surely, will prove their profound iuterest

IN CHICAGO AND TOE WEST. 445
in their cherished cause, by responses that shall make the future of
our city worthy of the Lord Jehovah, and a centre of evangelical
power. Capitalists came forward instantly, with offers of money and
credit to any extent, for the reconstruction of what was their
pride as well as our own. Merchants and business men received
the heartiest assurances of sympathy from those to whom they
were indebted, from their creditors and customers ; and every
leniency was afforded and extended, compatible with safety and
creditable to the heart. • :_ v'K'fjr; ¦•:•¦ -'¦•-¦- ' C
Governors of States took up our cause, and commended us to
the philanthropy of their citizens.

BY THE GOVERNOR OF WISCONSIN.
To the People of Wisconsin :
Throughout the northern part of this State fires have been
raging in the woods for many days, spreading desolation on every
side. It is reported that hundreds of families have been rendered
homeless by this devouring element, and reduced to utter destitu
tion, their entire crops having been consumed. Their stock has
been destroyed, and their farms are but a blackened desert. Un
less they receive instant aid from portions not visited by this
dreadful calamity, they must perish.
The telegraph also brings the terrible news that a large portion
of the city of Chicago is destroyed by a conflagration, which is
still raging. Many thousands of people are thus reduced to
penury, stripped of their all, and are now destitute of shelter and
food. Their sufferings will be intense, and many may perish un
less provisions are at once sent to them from the surrounding
country. They must be assisted now.
In the awful presence of such calamities the people of Wis-

446 niSTORY OF THE great fires
cousin will not be backward in giving assistance to their afflicted
fcllow-mcn. I therefore recommend that immediate organized ' effort be
made in every locality to forward provisions and money to the
sufferers by this visitation, and suggest to mayors of cities,
presidents of villages, town supervisors, pastors of churches, and
to the various benevolent societies, that they devote themselves
immediately to the work of organizing effort, collecting contribu
tions, and sending forward supplies for distribution.
And I entreat all to give of their abundance to help those in
such sore distress.
Given under my hand, at the Capitol, at Madison, this 9th day
of October, a.d. 1871. Lucius Fairchild.

BY THE GOVERNOR OF MICHIGAN.
State of Michigan, Executive Office, )
Lansing, October 9. j
The city of Chicago, in the neighboring State of Illinois, has
been visited, in the providence of Almighty God, with a calamity
almost unequalled in the annals of history. A large portion of
that beautiful and most prosperous city has been reduced to ashes
and is now in ruins. Many millions of dollars in property, the
accumulation of years of industry and toil, have been swept away
in a moment. The rich have been reduced to penury, the poor
have lost the little they possessed, and many thousands of people
rendered homeless and houseless, and are now without the absolute
necessaries of life. I therefore earnestly call upon the citizens^
of every portion of Michigan to take immediate measures for
alleviating the pressing wants of that fearfully afflicted city, by
collecting and forwarding to the Mayor or proper authorities of
Chicago supplies of food, as well as liberal collections of money.

HT CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 449
Let this sore calamity of our neighbors remind us of the un
certainty of earthly possessions, and that when one member suffers
all the members should suffer with it. I cannot doubt that the
whole people of the State will most gladly and most promptly
and most liberally respond to this urgent demand upon their
sympathy; but no words of mine can plead so strongly as the
calamity itself.
Henry P. Baldwin,
Governor of Michigan.

BY THE GOVERNOR OF IOWA.
To the People of Iowa :
An appalling calamity has befallen our sister State. Her
metropolis — the great city of Chicago — is in ruins. Over 100,000
people are without shelter or food, except as supplied by others.
A helping hand let us now promptly give. Let the liberality of
our people, so lavishly displayed during the long period of national
peril, come again to the front, to lend succor in this hour of
distress. I would urge the appointment at once of relief com
mittees in every city, town, and township, and I respectfully ask
the local authorities to call meetings of the citizens to devise
ways and means to render efficient aid. I would also ask the
pastors of the various churches throughout the State to take up
collections on Sunday morning next, or at such other time as
they may deem proper, for the relief of the sufferers. Let us not
be satisfied with any spasmodic effort. There will be need of
relief of a substantial character to aid the many thousands to
prepare for the rigors of the coming winter. The magnificent
public charities of that city, now paralyzed, can do little to this
end. Those who live in homes of comfort and plenty must furnish
26

450 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
this help, or misery and suffering will be the fate of many thou
sands of our neighbors.
Samuel Merrill, Governor.
Dks Moines, Oct. 10, 1S71.

BY THE GOVERNOR OF OHIO. Chicago, Oct. 12.
To the People of Ohio : t
It is believed by the best informed citizens here that many
thousands of the sufferers must be provided with the necessaries
of life during the cold winter. Let the efforts to raise contribu
tions be energetically pushed. Money, fuel, flour, pork, clothing,
and other articles not perishable should be collected as rapidly as
possible — especially money, fuel, and flour. Mr. Joseph Medill,
of The Tribune, estimates the number of those who will need
assistance at about 70,000.
R. B. Hayes,
Governor of Ohio.

BY THE GOVERNOR OF ILLINOIS.
State of Illinois, )
Executive Department, j
John If. Palmer, Governor of Illinois, to the People of the State
of Rlinois:
A fire of unexampled magnitude has devastated the city of
Chicago, depriving thousands of our citizens of shelter and food
and clothing.
Under these painful circumstances, I call upon you to open

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 451
your hearts for the relief of the suffering. Contribute of your
abundance everything that you can — food, clothing, money; or
ganize committees and systematize your efforts.
Remember those, our fellow-citizens who have always responded
so nobly to every call.
In testimony whereof, I have hereunto set my hand
and caused the great seal of State to be affixed.
[seal.] Done at the city of Springfield, this 10th day of
October, a.d. 1871. 4 . > , ... - ...
John M. Palmer.
By the Governor,
r - Edward Rummell, Secretary of State.

State of Illinois, )
Executive Department, j
John M. Palmer, Governor of Rlinois, To all to whom these
presents shall come, greeting:
Whereas, in my judgment, the great calamity that has
overtaken Chicago, the largest city of the State; that has de
prived ratiny thousands of our citizens of homes and rendered
them destitute; that has destroyed many millions in value of
property, and thereby disturbing the business of the people and
deranging the finances of the State, and interrupting the execu
tion of the laws, is and constitutes " an extraordinary occasion "
within the true intent and meaning of the eighth section of the
fifth article of the Constitution.
Now, therefore, I, John M. Palmer, Governor of the State of
Illinois, do by this, my proclamation, convene and invite the two
Houses of the General Assembly in session in the city of Spring
field, on Friday, the 13th day of the month of October, in the
year of our Lord 1871, at 12 o'clock noon of said day, to take
into consideration the following subjects:—

452 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIEES
1. To appropriate such sum or sums of money, or adopt such
other legislative measures as may be thought judicious, necessary,
or proper, for the relief of the people of the city of Chicago.
2. To make provision, by amending the revenue laws or other
wise, for the proper and just assessment and collection of taxes
within the city of Chicago.
3. To enact such other laws and to adopt such other measures
as may be necessary for the relief of the city of Chicago and the
people of said city, and for the execution and enforcement of the
laws of the State.
4. To make appropriations for the expenses of the General
Assembly, and such other appropriations as may be necessary to
carry on the State Government.
In testimony whereof I have hereunto set my hand
and caused the great seal of State to be affixed.
[seal.] Done at the city of Springfield, this 10th day of
October, a.d. 1871.
John M. Palmer.
By the Governor,
Edward RusniELL, Secretary of Slate.

In response to the call of the Executive, the Legislature assem
bled, and received this further message from the Governor, whose
contents met the warmest approval of all our citizens : —
State of Illinois, Executive Department, )
Sfringfield, October 16, 1S71. )
Gentlemen of the Senate and House of Representatives : On
the Sth day of tho present month a fire broke out in the city of
Chicago, which, iu a few hours, destroyed a large portion of that
city. It is useless to attempt to describe the awful and saddening

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 453
spectacle of the destruction of the most wealthy and populous
parts of our great city. The destroyer came suddenly, and under
circumstances well calculated to impress us with a sense of our
littleness. Chicago is situated on the shore of a great lake ; it is inter
sected by rivers ; it was provided with all the means for protec
tion against fire that are the product of the united efforts of the
advanced science and skill of modern civilization; yet in the
presence of the destructive element men were powerless, and it
pursued its course until nothing was left for it to destroy. '•• . .•= ,
firJn the course of this remarkable conflagration, which has al
ready taken its place in history with the greatest calamities that
have afflicted mankind, the flames, with unexampled fury, swept
over the eastern half of the devoted city, destroying many lives,
consumed churches, hospitals, schools, dwellings, warehouses,
stores, bridges, and structures of every kind. Everything per
ished at their touch, and whole wards of the city were left without
a house or an inhabitant. No reliable estimate of the number of
lives lost can be made, but the amount of property destroyed is
estimated at three hundred millions of dollars.
In view of the circumstances, I felt it to be my duty to convene
a session of the General Assembly, and, accordingly, on the 10th
day of October, 1S71, issued the proclamation which I have the
honor to lay before you.
At the time of the meeting of the General Assembly, all were
still so far under the control of the feelings excited by this extra
ordinary calamity, that no scheme had been formed for the em
ployment of the powers and resources of the State to meet the
duties that are imposed upon it by this unexpected condition of
affairs. But before proceeding to invite your attention to the details of
the business of the session, I must be permitted, in the name of
the people of the State, to exDress their crateful tbankfulness for

454 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FTRES
the exhibition of outpouring sympathy and benevolence that this
great and sudden calamity has excited in all civilized lands. Not
only have our own people and the people of our sister States dis
tinguished themselves by an active liberality that is without a
parallel, but in foreign countries the hearts of men and women
have throbbed with pity for Chicago, and their hands, filled with
contributions, have opened to supply the wants of its suffering
people. Where all have aided, and all have done so much, it is
impossible to give even the names of our benefactors. Their ex
ample, so honorable to them and to human nature, is worthy- per
petual remembrance, and I trust that the General Assembly will
provide for the preparation and publication of a memorial volume,
in which their names shall be preserved. The people of the
State should be permitted to know the names of those who, when
their brethren were hungry, fed them, and when they were naked,
clothed them.
The first question to be decided by the General Assembly, after
a careful review of the situation, is, what can be done for the re
lief of the people, and for the discharge of the duties of the State?
In finding an answer to this question, there are some difficulties
and causes of embarrassment that are yet to be stated ; and these
are, the court-house, jail, and public offices, and records of Cook
county are destroyed. The tax-books are consumed, so that the
collection of unpaid taxes cannot, without great difficulty, be en
forced. The courts are powerless. The utmost confusion, as to
the titles of lands, must soon prevail. All the offices and most of
the records of tho city of Chicago are lost. Still the question,
What can be done by the State? presses for an answer — and all
the wisdom, experience, and patience of the General Assembly is
invoked to furnish a full, complete, and satisfactory response.
The general political proposition, that that government is to^
be regarded as the best that interferes with the people the least,
will remain forever true ; and experience has conclusively shown

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 455
that intelligent men and women are, under all ordinary circum
stances, more capable of providing for their own wants, managing
their own affairs, and regulating their own conduct, than any
government can be, however organized or administered. It
seems to me, then, that the people of Chicago and Cook county,
who have suffered losses, require nothing from the State but to be
left free to employ their unexampled and unbroken energies in
the great work of rebuilding their homes.
.a- They need no loans or gifts from the United States or the State
•-.of Illinois; and, unless I greatly mistake them, they will ask no
more than that the State shall assume the discharge of its own
, ' proper duties, and relieve them from burdens — that, from their
peculiar situation, were always heavy, but have been cheerfully
borne — so that they may be left to apply all their resources to their
own great task. It is primarily the duty of the State to provide
for the poor, the blind, the insane, and all other helpless classes,
and for the enforceihent of its laws everywhere within its limits.
It is also its duty to provide for the construction of its highways,
building bridges, and the support of schools. The State of E-
linois has always recognized the obligation of these duties, and
for the more convenient performance of many of them, counties,
townships, cities, towns, and other organizations have bfcen estab
lished by law. They are but parts of machinery employed in car
rying on the affairs of the State, and the authority and the duties
of each are confined to certain well-defined territorial as well as
legal boundaries, that may be modified or destroyed, as the ex
igencies of the public may demand. And whenever, from any
cause, any of these agencies become unequal to the discharge of
the duties assigned them, or the pubhc duties imposed upon them
become too burdensome or oppressive to the people embraced
within their limits, it is the duty of the State to provide othei
means for their performance. It is a fact that requires no proof,
that the county of Cook and the city of Chicago, two of the most

4-06 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
important of the classes of public agencies to which they respect
ively belong, arc, from causes that are well understood, unable tc
continue the full discharge of all the duties that were imposed
upon them. From an inevitable accident, their resources are
diminished and their local burdens vastly increased, so that they
are no longer available to the State as governmental agencies for
all the purposes for which they were created, and it follows from
that fact that to the extent that the requirements of such duties
are in excess of the legal resources of the county and city — snch
duties must be resumed by the State, and the General Assembly
must devise other methods for their performance.
It is a most remarkable illustration of the difficulty of pro
viding for every possible contingency by constitutional regula-
tions, that certain provisions of the constitution of 1870, that
were intended to restrict the powers of municipal corporations,
and were resisted upon that ground, will be found to operate to
relieve the county of Cook and city of Chicago of what would
otherwise be intolerable burdens. Every part of the constitution
abounds with proof that its framers regarded the municipal
organizations of the State as mere administrative agencies, and
that they intended to deprive them of all emergent or discre
tionary authority, except within very narrow limits.
By the twelfth section of the ninth article of the Constitution
it is provided that "No county, city, township, school district, or
other municipal corporation shall be allowed to become indebted,
in any manner or for any purpose, to an amount, including
existing indebtedness, in tho aggregate exceeding five per centum
of the value of the taxable property therein — to be ascertained by
the last assessment for State and county taxes." .... And
by the eighth section of the same article, county authorities are
prohibited from assessing taxes, the aggregate of which shall
exceed seventy-live cents on the hundred dollars valuation.
Then, whatever power to raise money for necessary public pur-

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 457
poses the State has denied its local or municipal organizations it
has reserved to itself, to be exercised by the General Assembly.
The financial resources of municipal and local organizations are
necessarily limited to their powera to contract debts and to im
pose taxes. When these powers have been exerted to the utmost
legal or possible limit, and are inadequate to the complete
performance of their duties to the State, they must be relieved ot
Buch duties altogether ; for the accepted construction of the con
stitution forbids the General Assembly to pay, assnme to pay,
or to become responsible for the debts or, liabilities of, or in any
manner give, loan, or extend its credit to or .in aid of any public
or other corporation or individual — (Sec. 20, Article 10, State
Constitution). This provision of the Constitution was adopted
for reasons well understood, and but few will doubt its policy or
wisdom, and no one will, I apprehend, be willing to relax its
stringency, or narrow its interpretation by constructions however
ingenious or plausible.
It has been proposed to give immediate aid to the city of Chi
cago, by discharging the lien of the city upon the Illinois and
Michigan canal, authorized to be created by the act approved
February 16, 1S65 ; and it is claimed that if the State should
now refund to the city the amount of money secured upon the
revenues of the canal, with the interest thereon (which would be,
in round numbers, about three millions of dollars), the city would
be enabled to rebuild its bridges and public structures, remove
the obstructions from and repair its streets, pay the expenses of
its government, and other expenses pertaining to its own organi
zation, and discharge its general duties to the State.
I am not prepared to express an opinion upon the question :
"whether even that sum of money would be sufficient to supply
all the essential wants of the city ; but my impressions incline
me to admit that it would ; and I am prepared to say that while,
under ordinary circumstances, influenced alone by my views of

458 HISTORY OF TOE GREAT FIRES
the proper policy to be pursued by the State, I would not advise
the acceptance of the option secured to the State in -the fifth
section of the act of 1S65, to refund to the city the sum of twc
millions and a half dollars, with interest thereon. Under present
circumstances, if the money can be raised by any satisfactory
means for tho purpose, it seems to me that it should be done.
The county of Cook, alone, ha3 heretofore contained nearly one-
sixth of the taxable property of the State, and a proportion of
this, which falls very little short of the whole, was situated in the
city of Chicago. Now, nearly one-half of the productive pro
perty of the city is detroyed, and its present resources are crip
pled ; but the day is not distant when its walls will be rebuilt, its
wealth and population, not only restored but increased, and instead
of requiring aid from the treasury of the State, it will be again its
chief resource, and money now appropriated to meet its necessities,
will be bread cast- upon the waters, to be gathered again after not
many days. But while policy as well as duty concur in sup
port of the propriety of an appropriation from the State treasury,
either to discharge the duties heretofore imposed upon the city,
and which unaided it can no longer perform, and for that reason
they now devolve directly upon the State — or to refund to the*
city the sum of money used bv it in deepening the canal, and for
which it lias a lien upon the property of the State — it remains
to be considered how the money is to be raised to meet such
appropriation. Two methods have been suggested for the accomplishment of
this object. I am informed that the amount of the taxable
property, as reported to the Auditor, for 1S71 is about, five hundred
millions of dollars, wliich is probably less than one-tenth of the
actual cash value of all the property in the State. From that
sum will probably be deducted fifty millions, on account of the
destruction of property in the county of Cook. Calculating,
then, upon the basis of an actual assessment of four hundred and

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 459
fifty millions, the rate of taxation required to raise three millions
of dollars is sixty-six and two-thirds cents upon the hundred dol
lars ; and when to this is added the probable rate of fifty-five
cents, that may be required for revenue and school purposes, the
rate of taxation for the year 1871 will be one dollar and twenty-
one and two-thirds cents upon the hundred dollars. And I
confess to a preference for this mode of raising all money required
for public purposes. It is simple, direct, and, of all modes of
raising money, it is the cheapest. -It proposes that each, genera
tion shall discharge its own duties, and it conforms to the golden
rule of business morality : " Pay as you go.",?' ?j> f> > a-: . •>. *,. «*< y-
But the demands of the city of Chicago, for whatever sum may
be appropriated for its use, are urgent and immediate, and months
may elapse before the proceeds of taxation can be realized, and
it may be the judgment of the representatives of the people, that
the rate of taxation that it will be necessary to impose is, under
present circumstances, too heavy to be conveniently borne ; and
for some or all of these reasons, some other method of raising the
requisite sum may be preferred.
The only other mode of raising money that has occurred to
me is that of borrowing the amount required. But it has been
asked, with some degree of anxiety, under what clause of the
present Constitution is the exercise of the power to contract a
greater debt by the State than $250,000 to be justified? and to
find a satisfactory answer to the question, is thought by some to
be a task not altogether free from difficulty. The provision of
the Constitution relied on by those who question the power of
the General Assembly to borrow money (and thereby contract
a debt) to a greater amount than two hundred and fifty thousand
dollars, is found in the proviso to the eighteenth section of the
fourth article. The language of this proviso is : " The State
may, to meet casual deficits or failure in revenue, contract dtebt3
never to exceed in the aggregate two hundred and fifty thousand

460 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
dollars ; and moneys thus borrowed shall be applied to the pur
pose for which they were obtained, or to pay the debt thus
created, and no other purpose ; and no other debt, except for the
purpose of repelling invasion, suppressing insurrection, or defend
ing the State in war, . . . shall be contracted, unless the law
authorizing the same shall have been submitted to the people at
a general election." Those who deny the power to contract a
debt to raise money to discharge the lien on the canal insist that
the amount of money expended by the city of Chicago to deepen
the canal does not, when tested by the proviso of the thirty-
seventh section of tho third article of the Constitution of 1848,
constitute a debt against the State, and that now to borrow
money to discharge the lien of the city would be to create a debt
in violation of the eighteenth section of the fourth article of the
Constitution of 1ST0 ; and they contend that the words employed
in the section last referred to, that prohibit the General Assem
bly from contracting debts, " except for the purpose of repelling
invasions, suppressing insurrection, or defending the State in
war," are to be construed literally and strictly, and that their
effect is to absolutely prohibit the State from contracting debts
except for the very purposes and under the precise circumstances
specified. It must be confessed that if those who thus reason are correct,
the only mode that can be adopted to afford either direct or in
direct aid to the city of Chicago, is that of direct taxation ; and
it is an argument in favor of the last-mentioned mode of raising
money, that we thereby avoid the necessity of giving any other
than the precise and literal construction to the words of the pro
viso that, is insisted upon. But, as has often been suggested, with
reference to other instruments, "the true construction is the only
one that is admissible;" and a literal construction is not neces
sarily true, for the object of construction is to ascertain the sense
and purpose for which the words in question were introduced

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 461
into the instrument, and that sense, when discovered, is to be ac
cepted ; and in that sense the instrument, if a Constitution, is tc
be obeyed and enforced.
I do not believe that those who insist upon confining the
power of the General Assembly to contract debts to the precise
occasions of invasion, insurrection, or war, do justice to the pur
poses of the framers of the Constitution. They did intend, beyond
all 'doubt, to deny to the General Assembly the power to con
tract debts beyond the sum of two hundred and fifty thousand
dollars (which they have authorized it to do, substantially, at its
own discretion), except under circumstances of extreme peril to
the State. In defining the degree of peril that they intended
should warrant the exercise by the General Assembly of the
power that had been so much abused, they employed the strongest
language; but it cannot be inferred that they intended that the
State should he defended from invasion — that it might employ
its resources to suppress an insurrection, or to prosecute a war —
but should be powerless to resist the greatest evils, or prevent the
most threatening dangers that might arise from any other possi
ble cause. It seems to me that they intend to define the degree
of urgency, rather than to express the particular occasions when
the power in question might be employed. The framers of tho
Constitution were statesmen familiar with the practice as well as
the science of government, and well understood, from the ex
amples in which history abounds, that occasions might arise in
the future of the State, when money would be required to be
raised before the people could be consulted at a general election,
to meet other exigencies than those of actual invasion, insurrec
tion, or war. They knew that the safety of a State is often im
perilled by the feebleness of its Government — by its inability to
respond to the requirements of extraordinary duties, and that
dangers sometimes impend over States, and evils overtake them
(of which the dangers and evils produced by invasions, insurrec-

462 niSTORY OF TOE great fires
tions, and wars arc but types and examples), that might require
that all its resources should be employed at once to prevent or
remove them; and with that knowledge, it cannot be presumed
that they intended that the State, abounding in wealth, should
submit to an unhappy fate, or invite an invasion, excite its peo
ple to insurrection, or engage in a war, to find a pretext for em
ploying its own resources to avert it..
It was not the purpose of the framers of the Constitution to
deprive the State of the power to discharge its vital and essential
functions, as the narrow interpretation of the Constitution 1 am
disputing undoubtedly does; and the circumstances of the case
of the city of Chicago, now under consideration, serves all the
purposes of the most complete and satisfactory illustration. In
that city, within a few hours, many millions of property was sud
denly destroyed ; nearly or quite one hundred thousand of its in
habitants deprived of food and shelter; the ordinary agencies
created by the State were, by the same overwhelming calamity,
deprived of their power and resources, and were helpless to feed
or shelter them. The Legislature of the State was convened by
the Governor ; they find the moneys in the treasury inadequate
to meet the demands upon the State, but its credit is practically
limitless, and the means to feed and give protection to the hungry
multitude abound on every hand.
The General Assembly cannot, as is claimed, draw upon there-
sources of the State, or anticipate its revenue beyond an amount
limited — not by the urgency of its duties, but by certain techni
cal words contained in the Constitution. If this is the proper
conclusion, and the people were not otherwise relieved, one of the
conditions upon which the power to contract debts is said to de
pend, would be soon supplied, for the cravings of hunger will
madden any population on earth to the point of insurrection.
It is to be borne in mind that the State of Illinois is so far in
dependent of all other governments that it must at all times be

TN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 463
equal to the perfect discharge of it3 own obligations. It cannot
rely upon the voluntary charities of the benevolent to feed or give
shelter to its destitute population without at the same time ceas
ing to exist.
It cannot and has not abdicated the most essential function of
its existence, of raising moneys required for the discharge of its
most important duties, by regular modes, for the safety of all the
interests of the people forbid it. To claim that the people of the
State have locked up their property so it cannot be reached by
constitutional methods, to be used for the most urgent purposes
of government and discharge the highest social obligations, is not
only to do injustice to their character for humanity, but to their
intelligence and discernment ; for the power to raise money to
meet the great and sudden emergencies in the affairs of States is
essential to their existence.
Entertaining these views of the proper construction of the lan
guage of the proviso of the 18th section of the 4th Article of
the Constitution, I feel no hesitation in recommending that if
that course is deemed by the General Assembly most judicious,
the amount necessary to meet the urgent demands upon the re
sources of the State be borrowed, and at the same time provision
be made for its early and prompt repayment.
It is proper that I should also invite the attention of the Gene
ral Assembly to the necessity of providing by law for the reassess
ment of property in Cook County for State and county purposes,
and it is probably true that some legislation will be necessary to
enable the authorities of the city of Chicago, and of the school
and other minor districts of the county, to enforce the collection
of taxes.
I am not prepared to express an opinion as to what legislation
is necessary, but feel that my duty is discharged, though imper
fectly, by commending the matter to your attention.
There is too much reason to apprehend that the destruction of

464 history of the great fires
the public buildings and records that pertain to the county of
Cook and the city of Chicago have resulted in producing much
mischief. How far such anticipated mischief, losses, and incon
veniences can be remedied by legislation, must remain a matter
of uncertainty and doubt.
Invoking your sympathies for that portion of our people who
have suffered such unexampled losses, I can only express my most
earnest desire to co-operate with you iu any proper plan that may
be devised for their relief. John M. Palmer.
The members of both Houses adjourned to visit Chicago, and
there saw what was needed, and returned to pass, with great
unanimity, the following Act: —
" A Bill for an ' Act to relieve the lien of the City of Chicago
upon tho Illinois and Michigan Canal and revenues, by refund
ing to said city the amount expended by it in making the im
provement contemplated by an Act to provide for the comple
tion of the Illinois and Michigan Canal, upon the plan adopted
by the State in 1S36, approved February 16, 1S65, together
with the interest thereon, as authorized by section five of said
Act, and to provide for issuing bonds therefor.'
" Whereas the city of Chicago has expended a large amount
of money, to wit : the sum of two and a half millions of dollars,
to secure the completion of the Summit division of the Illinois
and Michigan Canal, under and pursuant to the provisions of said
Act, so approved February 10, a.d. 1805, and Act supplementary
thereto ; and whereas the said city has a vested lien upon the said
canal, with its revenues, subject to any canal debt existing at the
time of the ptissage of said Acts ; and whereas said then existing
debt due by the State has been fully paid and cancelled; and
wliereas the canal trustees have delivered to the State of Illinois
possession and control of said canal; and whereas it is provided
by section live of said Act, as follows : ' The State of Illinois may,

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 467
at any time, relieve this lien upon the canal and revenues, by re
funding to the City of Chicago the amount expended in making
the contemplated improvement and the interest thereon.' Now,
therefore, "Sec. 1. Be it enacted by the People of the State of Rlinois,
represented in the General Assembly, That the sum of two mil
lion nine hundred and fifty-five thonsand three hundred and forty
dollars ($2,955,340) with interest thereon, until paid, be and the
same is hereby appropriated, for the purpose of relieving the lien
as aforesaid, being the principal expended and the interest there
on ; which said sum is hereby refunded to said city, and when
paid, said city shall execute and deliver to the State of Illinois a
proper release of said lien to the satisfaction of the Governor;
and the auditor of State, under the direction of the Governor, is
hereby directed to draw his warrants for said sum of money and
interest, payable only out of any moneys in the Treasury belong
ing to the fund hereafter provided, to be known as the ' Canal
Redemption Fund.'
" That for the purpose of providing said fund, any funds that are
now or may be hereafter in the State treasury, paid in on the
settlement of the canal commissioners with the trustees of the
Illinois and Michigan canal, as well as from the revenue of the
canal, also all funds that are now or may hereafter be paid into
the State treasury, known as the "Illinois Central Railroad
fund," shall be transferred by the State treasurer, upon the
auditor's warrant drawn for that purpose, to said redemption
fund; that a tax of one and a half mills on each dollar of the
assessed value of all the taxable property of the State be levied as
a special tax for the years 1S71 and 1872, and to meet any deficit
in said revenues to meet said appropriation, the governor, audi
tor, and treasurer are hereby authorized to issue bonds of the
State of Illinois, to the amount of two hundred and fifty thou
sand dollars ; said bonds to bear interest at the rate of six per
27

46S HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
cent, per annum, payable semi-annually, in the city of New
York, and shall be paid at pleasure of the State, at any time
after three years after the date thereof, and shall be of such de-
noininaiioiis as the governor may deem advisable, and be known
as the ' Revenue Deficit Bonds,' and shall be delivered to the
citv authorities of the city of Chicago, at par, as a part payment
on above appropriations: Provided, however, that not less than
one-fifth, nor to exceed one-third of said sum so appropriated,
shall be received by said city, and be applied in reconstructing
the bridges, and the public buildings and structures destroyed by
fire, upon the original sites thereof, as already provided by the
Common Council; and the remainder thereof to be applied to the
payment of the interest on the bonded debt of such city, and the
maintenance of the fire and police department thereof.
- Whereas, by reason of a great conflagration in the city of
Chicago, the public buildings, bridges, and other public improve
ments have been totally destroyed, and the business of the courts
is suspended, whereby an emergency exists as a reason why
this act shall take effect before the first day of July next; there
fore, •¦ Be ii farther enacted, That this act shall take effect and be
iu force from and after its passage."
This bill having received the Governor's approval became a law,
and will work out its measure of relief.
In addition to material aid, there fell upon our ears grand, cheer
ing utterances from the pulpits, platforms, and presses of the
world, which stirred again the pulses of charity, and gave strength
and courage to a staggering people enshrouded in the smoke and
gloom of battle and defeat. The muse of poetry thrilled to the
tale of woe, and sent her sweet voice through the pall of grief,
and woke tho pride and hope of our people by her glowing and
tender strains. Rebuking those who would attribute our disaster
to God's anger against our special sinfulness, the poet proceeds :

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 469
Bright, Christian capital of lakes and prairie,
Heaven had no interest in tby scourge and scath ;
Thou vrert the newest shrine of our religion,
The youngest witness of our hope and faith.
Not in thy embers do we rake for folly,
But like a martyr's ashes gather thee,
With chastened pride and tender melancholy, —
„ The miracle thou wast, and yet wilt be I
Not merely in the homages of churches,
Or bells of praise tolled o'er the inland seas, —
Tho a glorified s t our God and human nature.
With meeter works and grander melodies,
Of cheerful toil and willing enterprises,
Of hearty faith in freedom and in man ;
The hoar old capitals looked on in wonder
To see the swift strong race this stripling ran.
How like the sun he rose above the marshes, .
And built the world beneath his airy feet,
And changed the course of immemorial rivers,
And tapped the lakes for water cool and sweet.
How skilfully the golden grain transmuted
To birds of sail and meteors of spark,
And, like another ZSToah, bade creation
March in the teeming mazes of his ark.
Yet in his power, most frank and democratic,
He roused no envious -witness of his joy.
And in the stature of the Prince and hero
We saw the laughing dimples of a boy.
Still wise and apt among the oldest merchants,
His young example steered the wary mart,
And amplest credit poured its gold around him,
And trade imperial gave scope for art.
His architectures passed all heathen splendor,
The immigrating Goth drew wondering near ;
To see his shafts and arches taU and slender
Branch o'er tho new homes of this pioneer.

470 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
The Greek and Roman there might see rebuilded
In vastness equal and in style as pure,
Tho merchants' markets like a palace gilded,
Wick marble walls and deep entablature.
His t-.voscore bridges swinging on their pivots,
The long and laden line of vessels sped,
While he, impatient, marched beneath the sluices
His hosts, like Cyrus, in the river's bed.
Then, when all weak predictions proved but scandal,
And the wild marshes grew a sovereign's home,
A dozing cow o'erset an urchin's candle, —
Once more a fool fired the Ephesian dome.
The artless winds that blew o'er plains of cattle,
And cooled the corn through all the summer days,
Plunged like wild steeds in pastime or in battle,
Straight in the blinding brightness of -the breeze.
And down fell bridge, and parapet, and lintel,
The blazing barks went drifting one by one,
The mighty city wrapped its head in splendor,
And sank into the waters like a sun !

CHAPTER XXXI.

How did our people accept this widespread sympathy, and its
godlike manifestation? It was a surprise as great as the confla
gration. We scarcely believed it possible that our calamity could
take >ueh hold upon the universal heart of the race. And as the
stream kept swelling till millions had been provided, and all im
mediate wants were supplied, and something was left for the
stern winter's trials, our wonder grew. "Wo were humbled by
the spcetaelo. Wo knew not our losses, but we felt buoyant with
the e.'Uociousiwss that the whole world felt our loss to be its own,

IN CHICAGO AND TnE WEST. 471
and was rallying to succor and save from crushing overthrow
The primitive fraternity seemed to be revived, which is described
in the Acts of the Apostles, when "no man said that aught that
he possessed was his own, but they had all things common."
Wrecked by a surging ocean of flame, with peril overhung every
hour, we heard a cheering voice sounding through the gloom, and
our hearts bounded like the hearts of mariners ready to perish,
when a sail is discerned upon the waters bearing down towards
them. - ..<:-._. «,y?? £'..¦ '; •-.
" There are men among us who have lost their all, who have
seen the labors, the plans, the hopes of a lifetime annihilated in a
moment, who have stood unmoved amidst universal desolation,
and who have witnessed all with tearless composure, and yet
whose eyes have been often splashed with the spray of tears as
they read of the unanimity, the cordiality, the lavish generosity
with which people everywhere have contributed to our relief.
Oftener from among these ghastly walls and smoking desolation
has there been heard a fervent " God bless our sympathizers ! "
than a " God pity our sufferings ! "
Men who had not shed a tear till then, shook with uncontrol
lable emotion and wept for joy. The gratitude was equal to the
charity, if such an equalization were possible.
We began to realize how intimately the interests of Chicago
were bound up with those of the whole country and the world.
We were brothers in distress. The feelings of her citizens were
well expressed in the Tribune, wdiich said : —
" Amid the general gloom, the public distress, and the wide
spread wreck of private property, the heart of the most impover
ished man is warmed and lightened by the universal sympathy
and aid of his fellow-countrymen. There were cities that looked
upon Chicago as a rival. Her unexampled success had provoked
hostilitv, — amounting at times to bitterness. In the ranks of
municipalities Chicago stood pre-eminent, and that eminence had

472 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIEES
drawn upon her the prejudices, and often the ill-natured jea
lousies, of her .supposed rivals. But the fire ended all this.
Ilardlv hud the news reticlied those cities before our sorrows were
male theirs. The noble-hearted people did not wait for details ;
ib.ev suspended all other business, each man giving of his money
and his property to be sent to Chicago. Before the fire had
(•eased its ravages, trains laden with supplies of food and clothing
had actually reached the city. St. Louis aud Cincinnati, Mil
waukee, Detroit, Pittsburgh, and Louisville were active, even
while the fire was burning, in providing for the relief of devas
tated Chicago. Every semblance of rivalry had disappeared.
Not an ungenerous or selfish thought was uttered — eveiywhere
the great brotherhood of man was vindicated, and our loss was
made the loss of the nation.
" In the light of this experience, how absurd are the crimina
tions and controversies of men. The hospitality and humanity
of those in our city who have retained their homes, toward their
less fortunate neighbors, though marked by eveiy feature of un
selfish charity, has failed even to equal the zealous efforts and
generous actions of the people of the country, who have laid
i:A<h till other business to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and
give shelter to the roofless of Chicago.
•• The national sympathy for us in our distress has shown that
in the presence of human suffering there are no geographical
lines, no sectional boundaries, no distinction of politics or creeds.
The Samaritans have outlived the Levites, and there has been no
such, thing as passing by on the other side. The wine and oil
have been distributed with a lavish hand, and the moneys have
been deposited to pay for the lodging of the bruised and home
less. " Words fail to express the grateful feelings of our people.
.lien who braved tho perils of the dreadful Monday, who wit
nessed the destruction of all their wordly goods, and who with

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 473
.their families struggled for life upon the prairies during the aw
ful destruction, and bravely endured it all, could not restrain the
swelling heart or grateful tears when they read what the noble
people of the country had done for Chicago ; how the rich and
the poor, whites and blacks, all — men, women, and children — had
done something to alleviate the distress and mitigate the suffer
ing of fellow-beings in far-off Chicago. How true is it that ' one
touch of pity makes the whole world kin.'" In some cities the
contributions have exceeded an average of a dollar for each mem
ber of the population, and in the abundance that has been given
unto us the aggregate is largely made up from the prompt offer
ings of the humble and the poor as well as of the rich. Future
statisticians may compute in tabular array the commercial value of
the donations to Chicago ; but only in the volume of the record
ing angel will be known the inestimable blessings of that merci
ful, generous, humane charity which this calamity has kindled in
the hearts of the whole American people.
" In clue time there will be a formal and complete acknowledg
ment of donations, public and private ; but in the mean time let
the nation rejoice that underneath all the conflicts in which men
are forever engrossed there is a latent spark of universal brother
hood, which needs but the occasion to develop into the most
genial warmth. Property may be lost, wealth may be obliter
ated ; but that people must be great who have hearts in which
charity for human suffering cannot be stifled in any event."
It was felt to be a most appropriate recognition of God, and
His mercy, and of the goodness of our fellow-men to us, when
the following proclamation appeared : —
" In view of the recent appalling public calamity, the under
signed, Mayor of Chicago, hereby earnestly recommends that all
the inhabitants of this city do observe Sunday, October 29, as
a special day of humiliation and prayer; of humiliation for those
past offences against Almighty God, to which these severe afflic-

474 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
tions were, doubtless, intended to lead our minds; of prayer for
the relief and comfort of the suffering thousands in our midst ;
for the restoration of our material prosperity, especially for our
lasting improvement as a people in reverence and obedience to
God. Nor should we ever, amidst our losses and sorrows, forget
to render thanks to Him for the arrest of the devouring fires in
time to save so many homes, and for the unexampled sympathy
and aid which has flowed in upon us from every quarter of our
land, and even from beyond the seas.
" Given under my hand this 20th day of October, 1871.
"K. B. Mason, Mayor."
The day was generally observed and the churches were filled.
The writer preached on a theme appropriate to the former part
of the proclamation in the morning, and in the evening on
Good Deeds, to be Held in Everlasting Kemembrance. Mat.
26:13. "Verily I say unto you, wheresoever this Gospel shall
be preached in the whole world, there shall also this that this
woman hath done be told for a memorial of her."
This prophecy and command illustrate the divineness of our
blessed Lord, because He predicts the world-wide spread of His
Gospel, and stakes his reputation upon it ; and because He exhib
its so delicate and perfect an appreciation of the generous care
which this woman offers Him. The event has justified His grand
prophecy, for the aroma of that uoble woman's name has spread
throughout the world. The recognition of her offering by the
Saviour, and His award of praise, have given us an example
which is equivalent to a rule, that we should treasure in grate
ful remembrance, and also commemorate the good deeds of our
fellow-creatures. lie has also further said, " And whosoever shall give to drink
unto one of these little ones a cup of cold, water only, in the
name of a disciple, verily I say unto you he shall in no wise

ES' CHICAGO AND TTJE WEST. 475
lose his reward." An act of kindness to God's people, however
common and simple the, deed of mercy, bestowed in the spirit of
Christian love, shall be rewarded by Him.
Possibly there may be some intimation of that Great Day
when Christ shall judge men according to their doings, and con
fer eternal honor on the workers of mercy, saying, " Inasmuch as
ye did it unto one of the least of these My brethren, ye did it
unto Me."
We read, also, that the works of the .blessed dead do follow
them, accompanying them into the very presence of God to speak
for them and claim the reward. The Bible itself, God's own
Word, is a history and memorial of some of the best actions ever
performed among men. It is therefore godlike to remember
and to celebrate good deeds, especially when we ourselves are
the objects of beneficence. Ingratitude is the foulest, basest of
sins ; gratitude the fruit of a noble nature. It is most becoming
in us, who have been recipients of the charity of the world, to
manifest our appreciation, to dwell upon the benevolence, to
magnifv the bountv, to love the donors, and grlorifv Him who
is the Great Author of all good in man and the universe.
1. Let us notice the spontaneous overflow of sympathy and
beneficence. Scarcely had the tidings gone forth to the sur
rounding country, and the extent of the evil become known,
when we heard that car-loads of cooked provisions were on the
way to our city ; that women sat up all night preparing food for
our homeless thousands; that the depots were full of supplies;
that distant cities were filling their trains with necessary articles
for our comfort; that corporations and communities were rais
ing moneys for our relief; that England was moving to our
rescue, and Germany, and all Christendom, indeed, had been
touched, and the lines of communication were given up to
the Chicago relief-work. Never in history was there a calamity
_x> great and sudden, and never an uprising of mankind so gene-

476 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
rous and spontaneous. Unforced as the light, free as the crys
tal flood fr-m the mountain-spring, gracipus as the perfume from
the flower?, came all the sympathy and all the help we could
possible receive and use.
i'. We may dwell upon the magnitude of the world's charity
toward our suffering people. Whatever we had need of poured
in upon us without measure, and the quality was unexception
able. The poor never lived so well as during the first few days
after the fire ; at least we may reasonably suppose that they
seldom had bread so white, biscuit so light, ham so sweet, pre
serves so rich, and everything eatable in such abundance. The
munificence of the people at large provided all that heart could
wi:-h of food, bedding, clothing, and household furniture.. The
railways were taxed to their utmost capacity, the churches were
filled with material, and all the depots of supplies testified to the
magnanimity of the American public. Immense contributions
of money followed upon the heels of these gifts for immediate
use. (rod opened wide men's hearts and unclasped their purses
in our behalf. Across the water our necessities appealed to the
generosity of foreigners and strangers, so that quantities of money
will flow to our relief from lands beyond the sea. Churches
gave, after the general fund was raised in popular assemblies, their
collections, and gathered their boxes and bundles, much of which
will be privately disbursed to the actually needy in the vai'ious
Christian congregations. Farmers and merchants came in to
open their houses to the homeless, and doors everywhere stood
¦wide to welcome those suddenly left without a roof. Instances
might be named and incidents given of the most interesting
nature, all of which reveal a humanity and philanthropy which
shed glory upon the age, and show the power of Christianity
upon the world. " For this is the Lord's doings, and it is mar
vellous in our eves."1 lie has made all this overflowing beneficence
possible, and lo Ilim be the glory! Our thanks must be given

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 477
to the railroad corporations for their nobleness in these times of
distress. They have done everything in their power to mitigate
and relieve the horrors and evils of our situation. We must not
say, henceforth, that corporations have no souls. Our own- citi
zens have shown a magnanimity worthy of all praise, in opening
the churches to the homeless, distributing with what care they
could exercise in the press of need the public bounty, offering
hospitality and sympathy to the sufferers, to their own discom
fort, inconvenience, and loss ; cheering and helping one another
by brave words, kindly offices, and lenient treatment, insomuch
that there never was such a calamity accompanied by less actual
Buffering, or followed by such ample relief. The immensity of
the loss was met by prompt and efficient assistance, unexpected
and unparalleled in history.
The offers of pecuniary aid to men crippled in business were
on the largest scale, as if men rose to the height of the emer
gency, under the inspiration of the Almighty. The Alabaster box
was full of costly ointment, and when it was broken upon us, the
fragrance filled the world, and will perfume the age. Its sweet
ness ought to possess mankind with a sense of brotherhood, and
draw them into closer fellowship. It is here most fit to mention
the boundless charity of cities heretofore our rivals ; instan
taneous and magnificent was their response to our deplorable
need, and never can we cherish anything but gratitude to their
warm-hearted, generous people. All feelings of bitter rivalry
must die and perish forever, and only a lofty emulation charac
terize our mutual endeavors. Let the memory of their good
deeds live in our hearts, and be transmitted as a precious inheri
tance to our children and the generations that follow.
The considerate action of our Governor and Legislature
deserves from us a particular recognition, and must knit our
people more closely to the mass of our fellow-citizens in other
sections of the commonwealth. And doubtless the magnitude

478 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
and far-reaching extent of the public charity will never be
known until the Books are opened at the great Day of
Accounts. Nor can our gratitude and thanks be too compre
hensive and deep, too constant and fresh, towards our Heavenly
Father, and those whom His grace prompted to unexampled
works of mercy.
3. Now, again, to heighten our conception of obligation, we must
reflect from what possible evils we were saved by the spontaneous
and magnanimous action of the American people and the civilized
world. The scenes of Sunday and Monday, during the conflagration,
were often of such revolting depravity as to remind us that a
portion of our population were fiends incarnate, or beasts in hu
man form. The dregs of a great city contain elements of destruc
tion that rise to the surface when anv storm or convulsion shakes
it. Nothing is then safe from their raging frenzy. The helpless
community become their prey; and they especially attack the
better classes, because from them they expect plunder, and their
envy of the more fortunate satiates itself in their ruin and distress.
Besides, when disaster is abroad, and riots occur, a demoniac
passion for devastation seizes on the ignorant and excitable, and
they assist the elements in their fatal sweep. When law and its
restraints are thrown off suddenly, it is like unchaining and un
loving a menagerie of wild animals and serpents. This is not
too much to affirm ; because history confirms the statement, and
shows btid men the worst at the very time when they should be
most gentle, considerate, and kind. People without roofs, or rai
ment, or food, would not long brook the sight of comfortable
koines and abundant supplies, without forcibly compelling a
division. We shudder to think what might have been, without
the ample bounty of which we were recipients.
And again also the suffering that would have, occurred but
for this speedy and gigantic provision for all the homeless

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 479
multitude ! We could scarcely have cooked and dealt out the
food needful to prevent starvation ; nor would it have been in our
power to furnish money and clothing, bedding and furniture ;
abject poverty would have overtaken and swallowed us all down
into a gulf of hopeless misery ; famine and death would have held
sway over this proud metropolis. If we have thus far happily
escaped, and feel measurably secure, let us praise God, for this
nnstmted liberality, and all the blessings it has insured us,— es
pecially deliverance from dangers of unseen horror and magnitude.
4. Again, let us hold in grateful remembrance what has been
done for our relief, that we may act worthily before our benefac
tors. It would be a shame for us to be avaricious and narrow,
from this time forth. "Freely ye have received, freely give."
The world expects every man to do his duty in this emergency.
Cowardice or meanness now and henceforth must appear doubly
degrading and despicable in a citizen of this city.
' ' I will live so they shall remember me
For deeds of such Divine beneficence
As rivers have, that teach men what is good
By blessing them."
There are some persons, who sit down and fold their hands in
idleness, eating the bread of charity till such time as it shall
cease to be given out. They are an excrescence upon society, a
burning disgrace to humanity ; such men discourage benevo
lence, and thus curse the deserving. Any one who in any
manner imitates them, must share their deep damnation. This,
also, is no time for despondency, but rather for heroic action, in
view of a helping world, whose aid cheers us to greater exertions
than ever, and lays us under solemn obligations to prove our man
hood. And it is one of the best things in life, that " a man's
life consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he pos-
sesseth." The poor are happy, they are often great ; their deeds

4S0 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
live when pelf is burned or wasted upon folly and sin; and if we
were to take a survey of history, it would be found that, what
men have noblv done, not what they have gotten for them
selves, makes thojn remembered as a blessing to the world. Never
mind whether you succeed iu hoarding again, or in regaining
vonr former position. Do not fall down in the dust and cry, or
hesitate to do your duty, because all is swept down to ashes, and
flung to the winds in smoke.
" ?Tay, never falter ; no great deed is done
By followers who ask for certainty ;
No good is certain, but the steadfast mind,
The undivided will to seek the good.
* * * *
The greatest gift tho hero leaves his race
Is to have been a hero. Say we fail !
AVe feed the high tradition of the world."
Our names will brighten the list of those who have suffered
patiently, toiled manfully, and sought, through misfortune and
trial, a higher and better destiny.
I have sometimes dreamed of the clays of old, when our fathers
were alike poor and struggling, and had little time fcr frivolous
amusements. They were happier and truer then than people are
now. And if there is any life that seems to me loathsome and
detestable, it is that of the muss of the population of great towns.
The verv hi^h are all gavetv, fashion, follv, and luxurious vanity;
the very low are given over to cheap amusements, vile pleasures,
and empty nothing. Tho large middling class are industrious,
earnest, useful persons, who form the balance-wheel of the ma
chinery, the conservative element in society. Reduced as we are
to a level, and brought back to first principles, wo must humbly
confess our indebtedness to our generous helpers, and order our
future to please flic Great Giver, and to honor those who have
saved tt; from total wreck. Piety, prudence, industry, charity,

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 481
and fidelity are the cardinal virtues, whose exercise will form the
best- memorial we can raise to the remembrance of the world's
great beneficence.
5. Finally ; the offering of that precious ointment was love's
gift to Jesus Christ; and the Christianity of the Bible made
men's hearts so tender, that when our calamity smote upon them,
they broke and gave forth the generous offering, whose odor
smells sweet in our nostrils. Christian brethren, he it om-s to
promote this same holy, humane religion, of which we have been
made to partake, and whose fruits in a thousand ways we enjoy,
and shall enjoy forever. We seem to labor sometimes in vain.
But by patient kindness, bold persistence, and earnest fidelity, we
make impressions which affect the deepest elements of society,
and mould the public miud. We must be true and energetic ;
and the ever present recollection of Jesus' love in dying for us,
and of his latest exhibition of the influence of His example and
spirit upon the race, will especially spur us to new exertions, in
spire constancy and zeal, and enable us to give a good account to
Him, and to Christendom, of the stewardship with which we are
entrusted. As Mary was reproached for her beneficence, as
Christ was crucified for his mission of love, we shall not find the
path pf benevolence one of flowers. We shall meet opposition
and many a rebuff ; but looking unto Jesus, let us go forward
doins: with our might whatever, our hands find to do, and His
recognition and approbation shall be our exceeding great reward ;
for no well-doing shall fail of His well-done. Amen!
Most happy are we ¦ to bear testimony that the sentiments of
this discourse accord with those of the people at large. And
while there may be difference of views respecting the adminis
tration of affairs and .the disbursement of funds, there is a unan
imity of gratitude. This variance of opinions, and occasional
tispcrity of temper concerning the disposition of moneys and sup
plies, arises from the extreme generosity and eagerness of some,

4S2 iiistouy cf tiik great fires
and the corresponding conscientiousness and practical wisdom of
those actuallv at the helm. Men of power and men of benevo
lence are guiding the relief work, and the people will yet admire
the tact, courage, and self-sacrifice of these men. With the sup
plemental offices of the good Samaritans in private life, and
individual local societies, there will be no great amount of suf
fering, unless the winter should be unusually long and rigorous.
It is gratifying to know that the people who have aided, are
satisfied with the manner in which their bounty has been be
stowed. We enjoy the ring of the following paragraph from a
city [taper, where the gifts have mounted up into the millions: —
'¦ Xo clear-sighted observer can have read the record of the
weeks first folio-wing the great Western calamity without. feeling
that tho effect of the great outburst of sympathy for the outcasts
of Chicago has been most wholesome and elevating upon the
national temper. We had all begun to look at human nature too
much through the medium of Tammany thefts, Ku-Klux Klans.
and trials for adultery and murder. They had almost put out of
our sight the actual framework of social and domestic life, its
silent modesties, and pure affections, and the myriad unselfish
ties which iu real life bind men together. Only such a disaster
as that of Chicago could call this hidden ground of humanity to
light in its most generous work. The country has had her mo
ments of justifiable pride before now, in the display of her
strength, or wealth, or success of arms ; but she was never so great
as when in the spirit of her Master she went into the highways
and byways and compelled the homeless and destitute to come
into her royal feast — be warmed and clothed and fed. It will
need many years of squabbles and thefts and international jeal
ousies to b!"t out this glimpse of tho substratum of manliness
and kindliiie-s in ordinary human nature, or to make us forget
bow from every nation came the quick response when the great
city siit in ashes, and cried aloud, like Job, 'My bone cleavoth to

HAUI.INC S*FES FBOM THE RUINS.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 4S5
my skin and my flesh. Have pity on me, 0 ye my friends, for
the hand of God hath touched me.' "
We close this division of our subject with regret, because so
much is left unsaid of necessity, and here we leave a theme of
the sweetest and most absorbing interest.
If to give is more blessed than to receive, then indeed has
there been a wave of joy rolling over the great human soul ;
and the experience of this century shall be illumined by a light
above the flames of Chicago's burning. As they paled before*
the sun, 60 haa our gloom fled from the sunburst of ijworld's be
neficence. In the language <?f Tiny Tim, in Dickens' Christmas
Carol, " God bless you every one ! " - "r ~' ?f« ' & «;^V '
The following is a list of the contributions in money received
by the Chicago Relief and Aid Society, up to November 18, from
forty States and Territories : — Massachusetts, $517,730.12 ; New
York, $392,9S7.90 ; Vermont, $359,220.00 ; Pennsylvania, $221,-
158.04; Maryland, $179,327.93 ; New Jersey, $153,714.32 ; Cal
ifornia, $148,790.70; Connecticut, $65,970.18; Rhode Island,
$45,384.70 ; New Hampshire, $36,S34.35 ; Maine, $11,721.26 ;
Washington, D. C, $34,065.05; Ohio, $46,299.12; Rlinois, $46,-
275.27 ; Virginia, $27,464.81 ; Kansas, $26,225.35 ; Utah Terri
tory, $15,381.11; Oregon, $10,000.00; Indiana, $24,976.34;
Missouri, 16,9S4.70; Minnesota, $24,108.40; Tennessee, $23,-
655.10; Nebraska, $14,694.00; Colorado, $12,653.03; Louisi
ana, $11,604.S0 ; Iowa, $9,274.51; Delaware, $8,070.70; Texas.
$7,725.82 ; Kentucky, $5,10S.90 ; Arkansas, $2,536.55 ; Georgia,
$2,070.75; Nevada, $1,505.83 ; New Mexico, $1,495.50 ; Florida,
$1,041.23; South Carolina, $1,001.60; Michigan, $732.25 ; Wash
ington Territory, $500.00 ; Wisconsin, $356.00 ; North Carolina,
$115.00; Mississippi, $48.50.— Grand total, $2,508,810.39.
28

486

HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIEES

VIL— CONVALESCENCE.

CHAPTER TTYTT.
Chicago 's been burnt down in timber to-day,
Chicago '11 be built up in marble to-morrow ;
Chicago has capital losses to pay,
Or Chicago has credit her losses to borrow.
No fabulous Phoenix, with flames circled thick,
Give us henceforth, as swift resurrection's imago:
In its stead paint up, heralds, an Illinois Chick,
With the legend in gold letters tacked to it — " Ago."
For this Illinois Chick, from her circlet of flame,
Looks calmly and coolly, victorious o'er ruin,
And this word has a right to, in more than in name,
For Ago 's " I do," and Chicago is doing. — Punch.
The reputation of this city for boasting was such that people
always allowed a margin for exaggeration in statements made by
our citizens. It was usual to observe an air of incredulity upon
the countenances of those who listened, when Chicagoans told of
their exploits and advances. Yet underneath all this apparent
doubt, and mingled with this idea of vaunting, there was a grow
ing scn?e of tho amazing energy of the western people. Other
cities in the same region reproached one another with want of
enterprise and spirit, and pointed hither for an example of what
was needed to give them equal or greater prosperity. The world,
too, had begun to realize that the Young Giant was a power in

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 487
the realm of commerce and of all activity. A lady said of her
own great city, "If we had been burnt out as you have, our peo
ple would have sat down with folded hands and made no effort
to recover. Or if they had done anything, they would have
waited till spring before they commenced." A St. Louis party
tried to induce a friend on his way to Chicago, the day after the
fire, to wait a little for them. "No," said he, "those fellows will
have it all built up in less than twenty-four, hours, and I want to
see the ruins." And on he went. This revealed the real reputa
tion of the city among those who knew, in the clash of contest for
trade, the stuff of which our merchants were made.0 ¦ - ?, > ^y
The London Spectator, looking at Chicago after the' fire, specu
lates in an interesting' way on the elastic energy displayed by
business men: -¦'-'-'- •-" ' f
Not a little of the surpassing energy and spirit displayed by
individuals after the fire may be traced to the absence of that ap
preciation of the weight of circumstances which, like his liability
to the laws, presses so heavily upon the Englishman. Mr. Joseph
Medill, for example, is one of the proprietors of the Chicago Tri
bune. It was thought that the Tribune office, a huge block of
marble, might resist the fire ; the neighboring journalists sent in
their presses, and the staff seemed to have waited for the flames
as they would for an enemy's attack. Despite the strength of the
building, however, the flames " licked in," and Mr. Joseph Medill
walked out, to purchase there and then a store at some distance,
and a couple of machines, with which, before his old office had
grown cold, he was circulating Tribunes to the public. It is im
possible not to admire such energy, and impossible not to suspect
that one source of it was indifference; that Mr. Medill did not
really care, as an Englishman would have done ; that his heart
was not choking, or his brain bursting, with a sense of defeat and
pain, as an Englishman's would have been. There is something
of" What does it signify?" in it all, as there is in the Mayor's

488 HISTOBY OF THE great fires
vigorous and benevolent leap through the laws. A merchant,
hum-in f^ back to Chicago to see what had become of house and
home is said to have met a friend and asked him of their fate.
"House burned, wife safe at our father's, papers All right," was
the reply, whereupon the merchant remarked, "Well, when a
man has his wife and his papers, what more does he want?"
" Heroic stoicism," says the listener, and there is heroism, and
stoicism too, in the speech ; and so also there is indifference, easi
ness, fluidity of feeling on points which would have touched an
Englishman very deeply. The American cared about his wife
and about his papers, but about his house and its associations;, and
their sudden disappearance out of his life, he did not care at all.
Even the burnt-out multitude seemed after the 'firet shock to have
turned to work again with an ease which is in itself admirable,
but which would, we suspect, be impossible if the chances of life
weighed there as they do here. Life, as well as the law, presses
more lightly across the Atlantic, and men struck by misfortune
turn to work again, not with the dogged resolution of the Eng
lishman, not by a supreme effort of the will, but with a light
elasticity and heartiness wliich resemble frivolity, even while they
have with frivolity nothing in common.
It would be a benefit to mankind to ascertain, if only such
ascertaining were possible, how far this elasticity is due to Amer
ican institutions. If it is clue to them, that would be the best
argument ever advanced in their favor, one object at least of
human institutions being human happiness, and there is some
thing to be said for xlmerican theories on the subject. The
American social system is a result, in part, at all events, of the
American political system; and its tendency is to lighten life by
increasing sympathy, and diminishing that sense of isolation
which so greatly intensifies the impression of any calamity, and^
which is, we suspect, one of the greatest causes of tho depressed
tone visible in English li.'e. But we believe that a much stronger

HI CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 489
cause is one with which institutions have very little to do, the vis
ible presence of innumerable chances in life, the sight, as it were,
of endless potential wealth besides that which has been destroyed.
A great English peer is not veiy heavy-hearted if one of his
houses is burnt down and no life is lost, and that is very much
the American feeling about a similar calamity. The house he
lives in is only one of his houses. He has no other just at present,
but he will have, and in that certainty he loses the sense of the
irreparable character of any loss not involving a human life. ;'
L - . . -^»M.<;tf/i£>.:S-':'®S° .„yi v <:¦ ;.•¦',¦•. '!.?'
Prosperity is sure to come back to^ Chicago, or if not, then to
Milwaukee, and Milwaukee will do just as. well as Chicago ;* and
--• ; .'"•*.' . „ , - :-;f.-*f ii'i 4ccy'--".q.(.,' «af i?3 ¦ '.' p:-'-:
the American, as certain of that as he is of to-morrow s sun, feels
misfortune not as a wound, but as a grain of sand in his eyes, an
noying, no doubt, but sure to be out iu a minute. It is not the
present men really fear, but the future ; and to the American,
taught from childhood to appreciate the vast and certain rever
sions which belong to him, the future is always pleasant, and life
therefore never without light. The burning of his house or of his
city matters no more to him than the wearing out of his furniture
to the English rich man ; he has only to get some more. If his
cheque-book is right, all is right; and to Joseph Medill his paper
is his cheque-book, and the grand office old furniture soon to be
replaced. Americans have not developed a new strength, they
only exert the strength they have through a lighter medium.
The London Times closed an article with these words : —
"When Mr. Cobden complained that English school-boys were
taught all about a trumpery Attic stream called the Ilissus, hut
nothing of Chicago, it should have been .remembered in fair
ness that at that time Chicago had hardly existed long enough to
be known by any but merchants. It will now not soon be forgot
ten. We may be confident, however, that the natural resources
of the place and the native energy of the Americans, will more
than repeat the marvels of the original development of tho city.

490 HISTORY OF TI-IE GREAT FIRES
The novelty and rapid growth of American civilization render
the people far more indifferent to such calamities than dwellers
in older countries who are conscious that their possessions are the
accumulation of centuries. At the same time with the news of
the tire the telegraph informed us that its mercantile .effects were
already being discounted in New York, and we have no doubt
there are numbers of enterprising speculators who see their way
te fortune through the speedy reconstruction of the city. The
most cordial sympathy will be felt in this country with individual
sufferers, and we can only wish the great mercantile community:
of the West the prompt recovery which their energy deserves."-. «
The Daily Telegraph, in a characteristic article, says :-. — .-.¦:¦ :.-3
It is idle to suppose that such a city is destined to become a.
Tadmor in the wilderness, or to sink into the chronic decadence
of Sebastopol after the bombardment. " Kesurgam " might be
written upon every brick of the burned-up houses of Chicago.
It will rise again, and with a vengeance. Luckily no venerable
cathedrals, no historic palaces, no monuments of art, no hoary
relics of antiquity, have perished in the colossal fire. Chicago
has blazed away with the rapidity of lace curtains, or of orna
ments in a drawing-room grate. The articles were handsome
and expensive, but they can be replaced. To repair the injury
done, all that is wanted is a certain amount of resources, energy,
and pluck; and in pluck, energy, and resources the American
people will never be bankrupt.
The London .Daily News has a two-column editorial on the fire,
in wliich it says :
" Nowhere in tho \yorld — not in Manchester, not in London,
not in New York were busier streets to be found. A river,
hardly better than the Irwcll, flowing through part of the business
quarter of the city, and spanned by innumerable drawbridges,
did, indeed, mako hideous some of the city scenes, which showed
like an uproarious Rotterdam or a great commercial Kouigsberg. -

IN CHICAGO AND TnE WEST. 491
But the streets of shops and banks and theatres and hotels might
stand a rivalry with those of any city in the world. Enormous
piles of warehouses, with handsome and costly fronts; huge
'stores,' compared with which Schoolbred's or Tarn's seem dimin
utive, hotels as large as the Langham or the Louvre; bookshops
which are unsurpassed in London or Paris ; and theatres where
Christine Nilsson found a fortune awaiting her such as the Old-'
World could not offer — such were the principal features of that
wonderful quarter which has just been reduced to ashes: ilNor was
Qhicago wholly given up to buMnesikr'sHer .avenuest'of, private
residences were — some, we' trust,f-still ; are-f-as :beautifulV& any
city can show. Michigan avenue! arid 'Wabash avenue were* the
streets where her merchant-princes lived; and there is nothing 'to
be seen in Paris, London or New York to surpass either avenue
in situation or in beauty. Michigan avenue is a sort of Piccadilly,
with a lake instead of a park under its drawing-room windows.
The other great avenue was distinguished from almost any street
of the kind in Europe or the United States by the variety of its
architecture. Mr. Ruskin himself might have acknowledged that
in this civilized and modern street, at least, the curse of monotony
did not prevail, and the yoke of the Italian style was not accepted.
Let it be added that Chicago, having the advantage of newness,
ana the warning of all the world before her, had but few narrow
streets and lanes. The thorougfares were, as a rule, nearly all of
the same width. The inexperienced traveller often found himselt
sadly perplexed as he wandered through a city of broad white
streets, each looking just like another, and any one seeming as
well entitled as its neighbor to claim the leadership in business or
fashion. " Chicago will not remain in her rnins as an ancient city might
have done. Already in the thick of all the wreck and misery we
may be sure that active and undaunted minds are planning the
reconstruction of many a gutted and blackened building, the

492 mSTOKY OF THE great fires
restoration of many shattered fortunes. It is only a few yeare
since the city of Portland, in Maine, was destroyed by fire; and
the traveller to-day sees there a new, busy, and solid town, where
the story of the conflagration has already become a tradition.
The people of Illinois are still more energetic and fertile of ex
pedient than the people of Maine, and they will not long leave
the city, which was their pride, to lie in her smouldering ruins.
The claims which Chicago used at one time to urge for the trans
ference of the national Capital to the shore of her lake are, in
deed, put out of court for the present; and her rival, St. Louis,
will, for some time to come, have the advantage of her in the
race for commerce, wealth, and population. But the city whose
rate of growth distanced that of any other on the earth, will not
be long in recovering the effects even of the present calamity.
So much at least of consolation maybe found. Before the widows
and orphans, whom this catastrophe bereaves, shall have put aside
the robes of mourning, Chicago will be rising from her ruins,
perhaps more magnificent than ever. Her restoration, we may
feel assured, will be in keeping with the marvellous rapidity of
her rise, and the awful suddenness of her fall."
While these generous words were heard from across the
water, and we knew what men reall}7 thought of us, like one who
toads his own obituaries, there was no lack of similar expressions
from our fellow-citizens. The language of the New York
Tribune was: —
Chicago may be taken as a fair type of American material
energy. We are proud to claim her as a representative city, so
l'ir as vigor, boldness, self-poise, industry, and far-reaching enter
prise are the characteristics of the American Republic. The
destruction of three hundred millions of substantial property is a
lamentable disaster; and we shudder at the statement that
hundreds of human lives went out with agonv in tho midst of
the fiery furnace; but the indomitable energy of the great

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 493
community still survives. As Chicago was a representative city
in the nation, so it shares in all the recuperative qualities of the
Republic. The city which ha3 been laid waste was not alone
that of the three hundred thousand people who inhabited it ; it
wa3 the city of many mighty State3 whose messages of cheer
and trains of relief are this moment speeding to it from every
quarter of tho Republic. A nation that has survived a great
rebellion, and has grown strongerand mightier , in the work of
replacing tho wreck of a four .years', war, has an interest in re-
'l -° ¦•- v'-.fy '-J—' -_-¦ >¦¦ <• ••- •>¦•¦> >'-' -I"'', .fH_.
building Chicago, and in making, jj, stronger, nobler, and more
-admirable than before.. r!r l^^p^F W«'J -'o^-rt ^--Ti'w
, Though this is a great calamity to jhe City of Chicago and to?
the whole country, we shall doubtless be surprised , to see h,ow
soon both city and country will recover from it , The elasticity
of a community which built a city by the Lake within the limits
of a brief lifetime, raised its foundations again and again from the
morass, drove a tunnel under Lake Michigan, and turned the
course of a river against its natural flow, will be equal to even
the present emergency. There will be no panic, but the auda
cious and cheery confidence of the people — not of Chicago alone,
but of the United States — will sustain the enormous burden ; and
mutual forbearance, help, and co-operation will tide over the dis
aster. Already there are comfortable indications that the Insu
rance Companies will weather the sudden storm ; and that the
two hundred millions of dollars which are represented in the risks
in Chicago may be forthcoming when the recovering city shall
demand this prudent provision. For a time, of course, trade will
suffer, and the multitudinous interests inwrought with the pros
perity of Chicago will languish. Rival cities will divide amoug
themselves much of the business which Chicago has heretofore
absorbed. Then the St. Louis Democrat, a few weeks after the fire, thus
recognized the recuperative force of the smitten Giant of the West:

494 HISTORY OF THE OREAT FTEES
The funeral sermon over the remains of Chisago may be post
poned for the present, owing to unmistakable signs of animation
on the part of the corpse. If dead, she yet speaketh, and that, too,
in the loudest and most understandable .Saxon. Through the col
umns of her leading newspapers she tells the great Northwest — and
is careful to make herself heard in bailiwicks wliich nature and art
seem to have set apart for St. Louis — that her merchants arc
ready with larger stocks of goods than ever before, and that they
are prepared to sell cheaper and deal more justly with the gene-.
ral public than any other city, especially St. Louis. All this is
done at a cost to the merchants and a gain to the newspapers „of
many thousand dollars per diem. The merchants of Chicago.
have a lively faith in the efficacy of printer's ink. They recog
nize it as an unquestionable truth that the long columns of ad-.
vertisernents, for which they have so liberally paid, have had more
to do in giving to Chicago her proud commercial position than
any other instrumentality whatever ; and, so believing, they make
tho investment with a cheerfulness which sometimes quite over
powers the facilities of the newspapers. In Chicago the adver
tising merchant is the rule ; in St. Louis he is the exception. Up
in that big city on the Lake the merchant has read and believes
what Thomas Jefferson once said of the Richmond Enquirer,
when it was published by his friend Ritchie — that a man who
put down a newspaper Avithout reading the advertisements often
missed the best part of it. And so they do not coincide with
their wiser brethren of St. Louis, who seem to think that men's
wives arc more interested in police items than in discovering
where they can find the cheapest and best silks and shawls, and
other indispensables of the female form divine. They never made
a greater mistake in their lives. Bless their unsophisticated
souls, let them follow the female eye as it traverses to-day's Dem
ocrat. First, marriages and deaths — with a smile for the first
and a tear for the last ; then the latest fashion notes ; then an

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 495
elopement, if there be a first-class one ; and then a careful scru
tiny of the advertising columns, to see who has the largest and
best stock for to-morrow's shopping. The country merchant liv
ing near Cincinnati, Terre Haute, Indianapolis, or other point
within trading distance, reads the market reports first, and then
turns to the advertising columns to see from whom he can get
what he wants. If he can find more information on this subject
in the Chicago papers than in the St. Louis papers, he will be
v4ry apt to patronize Chicago merchants in preference to those
of St^Louis. Chicago undere^an^}lt!his'"?aridacts'x_pori it."- Her
business-men keep themselves before the'!people in flaming capi
tals on tne first page of her newapapere^''| f^?'^' ..^.ti.^c.-. ^.i..r,7
In all this, we discover a sidewise°blow at the dilatoriness of
the citizens of the rival metropolis, the Queen of the Rivers. -A
gentle rebuke was administered, here and there, to those who
looked chiefly on the retributive aspects of the calamity, and
recalled the peculiar sinfulness of our way. As e. g. the following
paragraph :
People who see a Providential judgment in the conflagration
of Chicago, have very limited knowledge of Divine economy.
God helps those who help themselves, and if two elements of
nature — fire and wind — have torn down a mighty city, He who
masters these elements and moves the seas and keeps the prairies
fertile, has resolved that the city shall be rebuilt. The prophets
should seek another occupation.
In the next chapter we shall see how the kind opinions enter
tained concerning us were fulfilled and verified, aud how " Chick
— Ago " is " doing " according to Punch.

£96 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES

CHAPTER XXXIH.

" The street shall be built again, and the wall, even in troublous times." Daniel.
Those who have kept the thread of this story have become
impressed with a sense of the perfect desolation of the scene, and
conceive the horrors of our situation when the enemy finished his
victory. The water was everywhere about us, yet we were destitute of
the precious element. Hydrants were dry, reservoirs and cisterns.
empty, and the atmosphere still parched and the wind raging.
People resorted to the Lake and parks with tubs, buckets, pails,
pitchers, and cups, a motley array, for enough to prevent thirst
and filth. This continued for a week and more, until the. water
works and machinery were restored. The hungry and homeless
were all about us by tens of thousands. Dread winter, a stern foe
in our northern climate, stood near with menacing aspect. Men
were in an agony, lest banks and all associations should fail, and
they become totally bankrupt. Business, too, was imperilled and
might be lost forever. It was a season of Egyptian gloom.
Houses stood with furniture packed and doors ajar, ready for
another alarm of fire. All was confusion and uncertainty. Some
said, we must leave the city, as there can be no more to do here
for years. Chicago is ruined and lost.
But this was not by any means a general feeling, or one that
received encouragement. " The strange people that built Chi
cago," as some one terms them, were not daunted by adversity ;
neither did they believe that God had any plans of destruction to
execute, by which the site should become a desert. They accept
ed the situation with better grace than could have been expected.
They did not attribute the disaster to anybody's malice. Some,
indeed, stud the guerillas have done this, and some charged it on
the Mormons ; but sensible people all scouted any thought of in-

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 497
cendiarism, and looked on it as a great, mysterious dispensation
of Divine Providence, which was permitted, and occurred in
accordance with well-known laws of nature. There they left it
for the time being, and turned their attention to the sublime
charity of the hour — care for the poor — and then to the work of
reconstruction. As in Nehemiah's day, when the fallen wall of
Jerusalem was rebuilt, men worked with a weapon in one hand
and a tool in the other; so now a part of the day was devoted to
, benevolence, and a part to recovery from ''commercial'' ruin/ It
to a sad but noble spectacle! f_; •"*?'''-- >>^ ,: 4W-*i0k$V$feP ¦\^Al<
'^.The fires were not extinguished when 'some fiieri ^ii-d i'ented
'hew places for the transaction of business, arid advertised thcrii-
selves as prepared for customers. Others began to clear away
the debris for new foundations. "Already," wrote one, "from
the smouldering embers, the city is gathering strength for a re
newed career of prosperous activity."
But that which was everywhere apparent in spite of the hor
rors of the scene and its sad hopelessness, was the indomitable
pluck which the Chicago men showed, all which no losses could
damp and no wretchedness subdue. "Chicago will be hard up
for a time," said one ; " but we must try and pull through." " It
will take a long time to build all this up again," said another.
" I thought I was pretty well off yesterday," said a young man,
cheerfully smoking a cigar ; " now all I have in the world is the
suit of clothes I have on." " I think I might have saved my law
library," said a rising young lawyer, "but, by Jove! it did not
seem the thing to do, when everybody else's property was burn
ing up ; so I picked up a few papers in my office, took some
volumes of Kent given ine by a friend, took off my hat to my
old books, and left them to bum."
The spirit of the people is shown by the tone of the press, which
gave no uncertain sound, but spoke confidently of the resurrec
tion in these words : —

498 mSTORY OF THE great fires
Whoever has permitted himself to think that the great calamity
which has befallen Chicago would paralyze the energies of her
people, and check her rapid march to the commercial great
ness which is her destiny, has taken but an imperfect measure of
the character of this city and of the men who, with nature's aid,
have created it. The men who built Chicago still live. The city
was not their inheritance; it was the work of their own hands.
What they have achieved they know they can achieve again."
They have not to wait to consider how to begin; they are begin-"
ning. They have already taken off their coats and commenced
the work of rebuilding Chicago. ""
The foundation upon which they have to begin exists in the"
remaining value of the land. It is impossible, of course, to ex
press anything more than opinion as to depreciation in this value"
which will be tho result of the conflagration. A number of facts
and circumstances combine to render it probable that no ruinous
depreciation in prices will be witnessed. One of these is the
value of insurance. If the value of good insurance should prove
equal to one-half the aggregate loss, then the actual loss to the
owners would be reduced from §150,000,000 to §75,000,000.
But probably the whole amount of insurance is under rather than
over fifty per cent, of the total loss, so that if fifty per cent, should
be realized upon the total amount of insurance, the loss to owners
would still amount to over 8100,000,000. The indications cer
tainly are that, upon the average, considerably more than fifty
per cent, of the insurance will- prove good ; it is even hoped
that seventy-five or eighty per cent, may be realized. What
ever the amount may be, in reducing the personal loss to
owners it becomes an element of strength in the value of the
land. The land value is still more strengthened by the existing city
improvements ; the sewers, the water and gas mains, the pave
ments, etc. Twenty years ago none of these necessaries of a

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 499
great city existed ; all had to be built. Now they are all fin
ished and in readiness for use.
But more than by all else the land value is strengthened by
the fact that here, in the " burnt district," was the business heart
of Chicago, and here, in the very nature of things, it must be
again. Here, in the region bounded by the river, the Lake, and
the southern limit of the conflagration, is the locality where con
venience and accessibility for all parts of Chicago, and for all
parts of the country, meet in a'common focus, vy f -j a'^tti' y-'^'
:Here the commercial heart ofihefcity has been fixed by nature';1
and here it must and will remain in^spite^ of fire' arid /in spite of '
every adverse influence. And . herelt'isthe duty and interest of
every citizen to concentrate all his influence^ and exert all his
moral as well as physical force to lift np Chicago from itsruins. ':
This is the feeling and the common sentiment among all
classes of men who " take stock " in Chicago, and among none
has it been more promptly or vigorously manifested than the rail
way companies. All the railway companies having their termini
in the South division are making preparations to rebuild imme
diately upon our old foundations. The companies on the Lake
shore desire, indeed, to proceed at once to enlarge their facilities
to three or four times their former capacity. The Illinois Cen
tral company effected a contract on Friday for bricks to rebuild
their freight houses. They have already advertised for 400 brick
layers to commence work immediately. The work of clearing the
ground is already begun. At present all their trains, as well as
those of the Michigan Central and the Chicago Burlington and
Quiney, start from the Twenty-second street station ; but their
plan is to immediately erect a temporary roof upon the walls
of the Union depot at the foot of Lake street, and return with
their passenger trains to the old premises. So soon as it shall bo
possible to get new freight houses uuder roof, their freight trains
will do tho same.

500 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
Again the voice of prophecy was fortified by such living facts
as the following paragraphs describe : —
Persons travelling upon the prairie have noticed the mounds
thrown up bv the ants, and have wondered at the incessant activity
of the multitude of laborers. Hardly less activity is to be wit
nessed among the ruins and upon the streets of the burnt district
in the South Division. Never in all the previous history of
Chicago was such a scene of thriving activity witnessed. Even
those most familiar with the wonderful resources of this city are
forced to wonder at the multitude of wagons which are employed
in hauling off the debris to make room for the workmen putting
up the new structures. Workmen are everywhere at labor,
delving amid the ruins to reach the old foundations, that the
masons may set to work. Thousands of men and boys are clean
ing, wheeling, and piling bricks, while hod-carriers are supplying
them to the masons. Teams loaded with lumber and lime throng
the streets, carpenters and masons are working bravely ; the
gatherers of old iron are busily employed collecting their material
and carting it away. The removal of safes has ended ; every
safe has been opened ; those which were really safes have been
carried off. the others abandoned to the purchasers of old iron.
Broken walls have been levelled, and the tottering fragments of
once stately buildings have been overthrown. But amid the
smoke, the dust, the rain and the fog, there is an incessant throng
of busy men, boys and teams, working as energetically as if the
whole burnt district was to be restored before Christmas, and
they were charged with the duty. The days seem all too short,
and work goes on long after dark.
An idea of the number of teams and men employed may be
had from the fact that 5,000 loads of debris are emptied into the
Lake basin daily, and this work can continue all through the
winter, giving continuous labor to the thousands now employed.
So great is the demand, that hundreds of boys from fourteen to

THE FIRST BUTLDINfe ERECTED IN THE BURNT DISTRICT.

IN CHICAGO AND THK WEST. 503
eighteen years of age are hard at work wheeling, cleaning, and
piling bricks. All honor to the brave men who have met mis
fortune by resolutely beginning the work of reconstruction, and
all honor to the men and boys who have gone to work, preferring
to earn the bread and the shelter they enjoy, than to compete for
the same with the sick and helpless at the churches. The man
who thinks Chicago has been destroyed, has only to cross the river
into the burnt district to be undeceived. Labor and skill, di
rected by energy and enterprise, are working like bees in the
hive, and, when the spring comes^'the desolate places will be
^ "i_-.!, ->}ib-';'i- i;i;' .. . i _, ' i '.' .¦'''_' <
desolate no longer, and from the ashes will have arisen new
¦f'.r't 4B - , ¦..-'¦ '"t *t .y -' ' '.... •-
monuments of industry and faith.
Where the proud miles of white marble once extended, there
are now ghostly and tottering walls, and a chaos of infinite ruin.
One hundred thousand of our people have been rendered home
less, and men who were yesterday princes are to-day beggars.
But, in view of this tremendous transformation, there is do faint-
ness, no cowardly disposition to yield the battle. We have here
won one of the grandest conflicts known to history, and although
our defeat is without parallel, we shall marshal the remnants of
our routed but not demoralized armies, and shall march once
more to victory. Chicago may be beaten, but it cannot be con
quered. In a week, or a month, or three months, may be, we
shall be once more in line, shoulder to shoulder, and the world
shall see us marching on as cheerily and determinedly as though
naught save victory had ever perched on our banners.
Seven days after the fire a gentleman wrote to the New York
Evening Post, assuring the public that our debts were to be paid,
and said :
We are coming on well. There is a lull after the storm ; all
eyes are now on the future, and our city is a scene of activity un
usual even for us. Residences are converting into offices and stores,
temporarv buildings are erecting, and all is hurry and bustle.
29

504 HISTORY OF THE GUEAT FIRES
In one form or another, in municipal bonds, in mortgages or
in commercial accounts, we owe a large amount in the Eastern
States, and c-pccially in your city. A word of assurance to our
creditor.. :
Chicago abhors repudiation. Our citizens detest that word. I
Attended a meeting of bankers, and merchants in Standard Hall
three days after the fire, when an insurance seemed worthless and
our complications ruinous. The situation was looking desperate,
and the matter of a general stay-law for the relief of debtors
came up. It met with a burst of opposition that was electric.
It was affirmed, amid rounds of applause, that the business men
of Chicago would tolerate no such relief, and, whenever ifc be
came necessary for the payment of their debts, their remaining
property also should go. Men lately of large fortunes declared
they could not yet see in what condition their present troubles
wi-uld leave them, but they were resolved every penny they still
had should be turned over to meet their liabilities. Then the ap
plause would be renewed ; and this in a room where scarcely a
man believed himself to be solvent. Everywhere in the city you
meet with but one sentiment among our crippled and ruined men
— that they may have to go down, but if they do it shall be hon
orably and with their colors flying.
To the large holders of our city and county bonds let me say —
have no fears about Chicago or Cook County. Every dollar of
the principal will be paid, and the interest as fast as it falls due.
Our people are already inquiring about this indebtedness, and
alarming that whatever else is delayed, the interest on borrowed
money must be paid the day when due. We are heavy losers, we
are poor, but we have some money left in our city and county,
and we will tax ourselves down to the last shirt sooner than have
our public obligations dishonored. Even if our commercial honor
were not what it always has been, any other course would be
¦.uicidal, for we shall want more money and must protect our credit.

m CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 505
This was an expensive city to build.- Materials and labor were
cheap enough, but our site was a swariip. The business portion
of the town was many feet below its present level. The build
ings there are gone, but every dollar expended for street eleva
tion remains. There are the heavy curb-walls, the graded road
ways, and the long miles of Nicokon pavement ; there, too, are
the costly sewers, and gas and water-mains. We still have our
river-tunnels, the lake-tunnel, and the water-works, the expendi
ture of many millions, almost unharmed. Had our buildings re
mained, and what is now left been taken, the loss would have
seemed ruinous.
Nb man is to be reckoned out of the fight until his spirit is
broken ; and to-day we are more full of energy, hope, and confi
dence in ourselves than in our most prosperous times. Emerson
speaks of a high order of courage which is attracted by opposi
tion, and which is never quite itself until the hazard is extreme.
I am not boasting, but you ought to know we have some of that
courage here. You might walk about our streets for hours and
never read in men's faces a word of our hard story. The lines
about the mouth are stern, but the eyes are bright and hopeful.
I am proud of our city in its meeting with desolation. On the
firelit avenues in that early Monday morning I saw gentlemen
stop in the hurrying crowd and salute their lady friends with a
word of cheer and all the formalities of a promenade, while they
responded with eyes as bright and cheeks as unblanched as they
had ever shown there in the sunny afternoons. Through the ter
rible hours until dawn, and amid the hurrying thousands in the
long burning day, I saw but one woman in tears. The men
saved theirs until the telegraph told us how the news was receiv
ing elsewhere. Your sympathy was the only thing to unman us.
Since our visitation I have mingled with all classes, in public
meetings and in private intercourse. I have not heard one word
of complaint.

506 HISTORY OF Til". GREAT FJRKS
Wc are face to face with our ruin ; we owe you eastern men
much monev, and T am writing to let you know how we feel.
The dav after the tire I determined to open a new office at once,
so as tn do what little I could by example to restore pubhc con
fidence. After a long search, I was unsuccessful, because every
thing suitable had been already taken since the tire, the landlords
said. No one can understand Chicago who does not remember
that we have few old men — least of all among our prominent
business men. The capital and influence of the city are in the
hands of young men, or men in the prime of life, and these can
fa co beggary more courageously than if their steps were feeble. and
i heir best working-days gone. Do not say we are still resolute
because we do not realize our misfortunes; we feel what none
can feel who have not seen our ruins; but we think that with
unbroken courage, untarnished honor, and God's help, we can do
vj'.in what you saw us do before.
Now, for our commercial liabilities we ask no releases, no stay-
laws, no compromises. We are honest, we are energetic, and we
have an enormous trade already established. Give us a little
time, that is all we ask. The election is with yon. If you do
not press us. we can pay you, we hope, every dollar. If you do
press us. you shall have what is left.
And the editor responded cordially, recognizing the situa
tion, and acknowledging the splendid fortitude and recuperative
t. nergy displayed in all our departments of enterprise and ser
vice : —
Those Chicagoans tire people to be proud of — they are essentially
American. The indomitable pluck they show under their calamity,
and the manly cheerfulness they display amid the wreck of worldly
fortunes, are grand. They have as good a right to sit down and
grieve as ever Cains Marius had to mourn over the ruins of Car
thage. But there does not seem to be a Caius Marius in all Chi
cago. Nobody thinks of sitting down; and as for grieving, they

IN CUICAG0 AND THE WEST. 507
haven't time. They are burned out, but they refuse to continue
so. They are impoverished, but they won't stay poor. On all
sides they are up and doing. The activity with which they are
covering the blackened, smoking plain with fresh frame buildings ;
the vigor with which they proceed to dig bank vaults from the
hot ashes, and resume payments out of them before they are cool;
the philosophic composure with which laboring men go to put
more money into the savings bank, instead of beginning a "run"
on it j the prompt decision with which the millioniare of yester
day, beggared to-day, resumes business by writing his name on a
ahingle and hanging it outside of his shanty ; the resolnte .energy
with which the wholesalse merchant, finding his, store gone, opens
his parlor windows and announces his readiness to retail goods
there at the usual prices — all these are illustrations of a spirit
which no misfortune can appall.
Mr. Bradish, one of our artists, after describing in eloquent
language the burning of the Academy of Design, exclaims:
Thus perished the Academy.
But, thank God ! not the courage or the hopes of the Chicago
artists. For the moment they are disheartened, — they are not
dismayed. The great calamity has destroyed their art business.
Many have families, and the citizens of Chicago are not able now
to buy pictures. But the artists do not ask for charity; they
need and will accept orders. There can be no more suitable
occasion to promote the cause of art than liberal offers to Chicago
artists. This winter will be a severe one for those who must
remain there. But already the burnt districts are alive with the
pleasant sights and sounds of busy artisans. A great city still
exists ; auother one, as imposing as the first, will soon occupy
the desolate places. Within the past month, more than 3,000
buildings have been erected.
A generous people, enterprise, genius, credit, indomitable spirit,
the free flow of Eastern capital, the outburst of universal sym-

508 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRKK
pathy. — all these give assurance of the rebirth of Chicago. And
speedilv will be seen a new edifice, a new Temple of Art, not
less beautiful, that shall continue to be, for the coming years, the
home of art, and the cherished abode of the stricken artists of
Chicago. There was fear of a rush on the Savings Banks, and the police
were guarding faithfully the avenues of approach, and all, with
ludicrous gravity, awaited the coming of the deluge of excited
depositors to clamor for their money. But, as the day wore on,
now and then one straggled in to claim the proffered twenty per
cent., but the number who came to deposit was altogether unex
pected. There was no run on any bank, and every one of these
moneyed institutions commenced doing business within a few
days of the fire, and all stand on a permanent basis for the future.
Rents advanced to very high figures on account of the immense
demand, and some men re-rented at an advance of five hundred
npr cent. A shrewd man hired a place, after he saw his building
going into ashes and smoke, for twelve hundred, and leased it
again for twelve thousand dollars. A correspondent of the New
York press said :
As early .is Wednesday morning, when the fear of further
danger had ceased, the work of reconstruction began. On the
smoking ruins of their great edifices these unconquerable people
set the signs of revived industry. The needs of so vast a body,
homeless as they are, make a great market, and the thriving
tr.td.'. of old times commences at every uncovered corner where a
temporary roof can be raised. Inspired by the opportunity, the
thriving Shylocks came out Wednesday, resolved to turn the
misfortunes of the city to golden account. Bread went up to
t..bulous rates. All sorts of provisions, though by no means
scarce, were put up to extravagant prices ; the remaining hotels
doubled their former rates, and general dismay fell upon the
helpless community ; but General Sheridan fell upon the vam-

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 509
pires with a general order, and routed them with real live words.
To the baker he proclaimed cheap bread. To the hotel men,
living rates, or he would run the machines himself. This restored
the natural state of things, and the city under the new impulse
fell into a more healthy attitnde. Presently the newspapers,
The Journal first, The Tribune and Republican following, came
to life again, and a glimpse of what the country was doing for
Chicago reached the suffering people. The splendid record of
beneficence aroused a new hope, and the people give evidence in
unmistakable ways that they are neither crushed rior disheart
ened, -/''.-'j' ,y''^:; '
After struggling through the mob of newsboys who were
besieging newspaper offices, I met the Hon. N. B. Judd, who
was returning home after an unavailing search for an insurance
company in which he is interested. He spoke lightly, after the
Chicago manner, of his losses, but indulged in some enthusiastic
expressions about the beauty of the ruins on the South Side.
The front facade of the Bigelow House gives an exquisite hint for
a triumphal arch, and the south angle of the Palmer House looks
a little like the Campanila of the Duomo at Florence. I checked
his flow of artistic appreciation long enough to ask him about the
prospects of the situation. He answered with hopeful but
seasonable words : " The city will be rebuilt ; its removal from the
sphere of the commercial activity of the age is not possible, in
view of its geographical position ; it is yet too early to predict
with absolute certainty whether the future fortunes of the city
are to remain in the hands of those who have so long controlled
them, or whether new men are to guide the new destinies.
There will be ruin of individuals ; whether of classes or not, is as
yet unknown ; but the commerce of the world demands that
there shall be a city here, and, by the hands of one and another,
the city will be rebuilt.
" It was only yesterday that I spoke of the desolation of that

510 niSTORY OF THK GREAT FIRES
beautiful line of palaces called Michigan Terrace; to-day the
garden and residence is covered with a crowd of mechanics, and
the air is filled with the sound of hammers and chisels. The
indefatigable owner is everywhere present, ordering and directing
(.'vcrvthiiur, and shedding about him a fresh and breezy atmos
phere of hope ami energy. His losses, of course, are enormous;
but be owes nobody, and everybody owes him, so that there will
still remain a large balance of this world's goods to one of the
men who best know how to use them. He is building three
houses for business purposes on his vacated lots, and has con
tracted to have them ready for their occupants in a week."
While business men were providing for the resumption of trade,
or were renewing it, in twenty-four hours, some had to furnish
shelter for their families. • All things had to be done at the same
time. Within a month there were five or six thousand houses, if
such the extemporaneous tenements can be called, in course of
erection or occupied by families. There were also contracts for
scvcnd thousand permanent buildings for business purposes, while
hundreds of temporary structures rose like mushrooms on every
side, for the accommodation of those who were determined to re
tain their trade by supplying their customers at the earliest possi
ble moment. And the people outside came to the rescue like
true brothers in adversity. They proffered help in every form,
promised to stand by the merchants and manufacturers, and gave
their orders as freelv as though nothing had occurred. Our mis-
fortune was felt to be theirs, and they made it as light as possible
upon us by receiving a portion of it themselves. It was inter
esting to see how the marriage statistics showed convalescence.
The young people were not to be daunted by so small an obstacle
as the Great Fire, and hundreds took the yoke upon them, in order
to prove whether two were not better than one to pull a load.
" A Chicago girl wrote to her lover in Springfield, Massachu
setts, just after the fire, saying : ' Our wedding was set for next

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 511
week, and if you will stand up with a woman dressed in a cotton
skirt and her father's overcoat, come on.' The brave youth tele
graphed in reply, 'Get ready; I'll be with you.'"
Another of our ladies, when offered a velvet cloak by her
mother at the East, replied that she wonld be ashamed to wear
one this winter, when economy was the necessity and watchword
of the hour. Not display, but work, frugality, charity, are ' the
offices of our noble women, till Chicago is redeemed and our
,' ¦¦-' .(/.yi'.-T*,-. ..,-- ,. ,,
debts are paid. In accordance with this purpose, the papers
warned off concert and theatre managers, and summoned the
lovers of pleasure to seek cheaper arimsemerits. ¦
The Christians also resolved to restore the lost edifices, by an
appeal to the public at large, and exhibited a heroic spirit in' un
dertaking to go forward with their Master's cause in undimin
ished efficiency and enthusiastic earnestness. The universal
watchword was Resurgam ; and the world's answer is Resurget.
Already, seeing that we mean to rise again — and the coun
try means that we shall rise again — multitudes are flocking
hither, to enter upon business with their capital, to invest money
in real estate, and to join in rebuilding our city. Thus the wall
rises, by the blessing of God, even in troublous times ; fear has
iriven place to hope, and convalescence is written on every fea
ture and movement of the Young Giant.
As a matter of history, it is necessary to record that the poor
people in their hasty dwellings were made as comfortable as cir-
cumstanees would permit. An unusually cold winter would
entail much suffering, as many of them lack the fertility of inven
tion and enterprise of the genuine American, who is not content
to live in squalor and discomfort, when tact and industry can
give relief and better his condition.
We close this division by quoting from a Liverpool paper,
whose prognostications and comments have been evidently justi
fied to the fullest extent : —

512 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES *
If anything could be more remarkable than the rapidity with
wdiich Chicago sprang into existence, it was its sudden destruc
tion. There seems every probability of its resurrection being
more remarkable than either. The recuperative power already
developed is unequalled by anything in ancient or modern times.
No sooner are the flames of the burning city extinguished, than
workmen are busily engaged in clearing away the smouldering
cinders, and making preparations for the erection of buildings as
magnificent and costly as those which have been swept away.
One is reminded forcibly of a colony of ants, which, when dis
turbed by the ruthless passer-by, no sooner recover from the
panic of the moment than they set to work to repair the dam
age which has been done. The Chicago disaster was assuredly
enough to have appalled the bravest, and disheartened the most
sanguine. Such a calamity, breaking with such abruptness on a
community, might well have paralyzed their efforts, and led to
their practical annihilation. But there is about these mushroom
cities of the West an energy of which we in the Old World know
nothing. While Englishmen would be stopping to discuss the
rival plans for rebuilding, and schemes for raising the money, and
wasting time in long-winded speeches, America would have the
whole thing done. This extraordinary energy and elasticity
which enables its people to rise like giants refreshed from every
disaster, is one of the most wonderful characteristics of the New
World. It was developed to a remarkable extent after the War
ot' Independence ; it was developed to a yet more remarkable ex
tent after the lamentable civil war of a few years since. Losses,
both in men and money, which would have broken the credit of
many countries, were to the Americans only stimulants to call
forth their extraordinary qualities. Chicago is a splendid exam
ple of this splendid energy. v

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 513

VEL— THE FUTURE.

OHAPTEE xxxiy -
-.'.'¦>v,.r_.*? r-.
Men said at vespers : " All is well I "
In one wild night the city fell ; ..'."St..
Fell shrines of prayer and marts of gain
Before the fiery hurricane.
On threescore spires had sunset shone,
Where ghastly sunrise looked on none.
Men clasped each other's hands, and said :
" The City of the West is dead I "
Brave hearts who fought, in slow retreat,
The fiends of fire from street to street,
Turned, powerless, to the blinding glare
The dumb defiance of despair.
A sudden impulse thrilled each wire
That signalled round that sea of fire ;
Swift words of cheer, warm heart-throbs came ;
In tears of pity died the flame !
Prom East, from West, from South and North,
The messages of hope shot forth,
And, underneath the severing wave,
The world, full-handed, reached to save.
Fair seemed the old ; but fairer still
The new the dreary void shall fill
With dearer homes than those o'erthrown,
For love shall lay each comer-stone.

514 UlhTuKV OF THE GREAT FU4ES
Rise, strickou city !— From thee throw
The nsbnn sackcloth of thy woe,
And build, as to Amphion's strain,
To songs of cheer thy walls again !
How shrivelled in thy hot distress
The primal sin of selfishness !
How instant rose, to take thy part,
The ajigel in the human heart I
Ah ! not in vain the flames that tossed
Above thy dreadful holocaust;
The Christ again ______ preached through thee
The Gospel of Humanity !
Then lift once more thy towers on high,
And fret with spires the western sky,
To tell that G-od is yet with us,
And love is still miraculous ! John ft Whttttkr,
There were predictions of ill omen concerning the probability
of resurrection within a brief period. To many the very
removal of the wreck seemed an insuperable obstacle. The
view of such gigantic ruin overwhelmed them ; and it is true that
•here is much that years alone can reproduce. The beautiful
i rees, that had slowly rooted and grown to towering majesty, can
not be soon replaced. Eor years the newness and rawness of a
primitive city must again be suffered. Yet so much remains
uninjured as to give us ground to expect that the resurrection
may be far speedier than the firet upbuilding. The representa
tive energies of the great North-West still hover amid the crum-
bling ruins of what but yesterday was Chicago ; and as busy
hands are already effacing the scare which now disfigure the
site, so surely will they make for this noblest exponent of the'
free, elastic growth of the North-West' a Future more brilliant
i ban her past-
There is not the remotest probability of our sinking back into

IN CUICAGO AND THE WEST. 515
insignificance, or dwindling into extinction. The voice of the
people is the voice of God, and they have said, by their capital,
their charities, their grand utterances, that here must stand a
great city, whose future no mind can fitly conceive. After visit
ing the Golden City of the Pacific, and riding through the region
traversed by the new railroad that bound East and West into
closer fraternity, the Hon. Benjamin F. Wade, the Statesman of
Ohio, said in 1866 : —
" Again I say to yon, that the' importance of this location tran-
scends what most now think of it. '} It will never have but two
rivals. San Francisco, on the Pacific,' may contest the palm of
greatness with it, and New York has got to run fast to get out
of its way. You may deem that an extravagant expression, but
recollect that New York had to struggle for one hundred and
fifty yeare before she had the population and wealth Chicago has
to-day. No people of this country have more of intelligence, more
of enterprise, more of the American Yankee go-aheadativeness
than the people of Chicago. I say again, that there are but two
cities on this continent that can compete with it for the palm of
greatness. Thirty -two years ago it had a few rude buildings, and
I have been amazed to-day, as I passed through and viewed the
wonderful progress that has been made; I am sure I have
had no conception of the importance of this point, and, what is
still more important, of the vastness and richness of the great
country that lies West, and which is bound to contribute in the
future so much to build up the second, if not the first, city on this
continent." If this man could have looked upon our city five years later,
he would have seen more to admire, and to fortify him in his
lofty expectations. And now we are to forecast the future in the
light, not of blazing destruction, but of the glorious past and the
actual present.

516 HISTORY OS THE GREAT EIRES
CHAPTER XXXV.
Chicago must be great, yea, far transcend all former greatness,
because of several reasons ; among which is the marvellous faith
wliich inspires those who have had the largest experience, and
occupy posts of influence and power. It was, of course, a play
ful remark wliich an old gentleman made after visiting New
York City, upon being asked what he thought of the metropolis.
¦' Why," said he, " it is a fine place, but it lacks one thing. That
is the only fault I find with it. It is too far from Chicago."
Here was the spirit that gave us our prominence, gone to seed.
But the real creators of this amazing prosperity were animated
by an intense conviction that here was the central focal point of
America, and they must uot rest until manifest destiny was con
summated. There seemed something almost irreverent in the confidence
which men cherished and expressed. Says an eminent clergy
man: I recall the conversation of a leading citizen of Chi
cago with me at my last visit there, and his words still ring in
my ears : " There is no possibility of checking the growth of this
city ; its future is as fixed as God's throne."
This language was not intended to be considered boastful, nor
did it deserve to be termed blowing : to the minister it seemed ex
travagant, inasmuch as things had been slower in New England
under his eye, nor did he see, as the enthusiast saw, the immense
resources upon which the city would build its future.
I recollect a similar remark made to me by a gentleman con
nected with the railroad interest, as I was returning home after
six months' absence : " Nothing can stop Chicago now. "
Such was the belief of influential men, and they naturally im
parted their zeal and hopefulness to others; so that the entire
population were combined in a mighty effort, not to inflate public
expectation, but w> gire the city a position worthy its advantages.

IS CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 517
" All things are possible to him that beheveth, " is the solemn
statement of Holy Writ. And our Saviour said, " According to
thy faith be it unto thee. " Of faith there was abundance and
of works no lack. For in no city were men of abihty and
earnestness worked harder, and nowhere did talent and industry
reap quicker and larger rewards.
But is there the same firmness of faith in the future, since
the sudden arrest of its onward career? Do the wise and far-
seeing men anticipate a growth like that of the past ? Doubtless
there was anxiety in the minds of many lest the crown should be
plucked from the brow that wore it so proudly. But that soon
gave place to the same marvellous confidence which made every
man a hero, and banished slavish, enervating fear. The lan
guage of the press was like this which follows : —
" Away with despondency ! With a world to comfort us. why
should we not hope 1 Fire has destroyed one-half of our substance ;
but twenty-five years ago one-hundredth of that substance did
not exist, and every cause which contributed to the making of
our wealth then, exists in an improved form to-day 1 We then
had a marsh, with malaria and fever; we now have high-
graded streets and pure, bracing air. We then had ox-carts and
canoes ; we now have railroads and a mighty merchant fleet. We.
then had a foul river, whose stench was in our nostrils, and a
short and shallow canal that half defeated its aims ; we now
send a tide from the Lake to the Gulf, and our clear rolling river
rims to the sea, while a lake tunnel fills our reservoirs with sweet
water. We then struggled with Nature to gain a little by Art ;
now Art and Nature have become one in the physical advantages
which no conflagration can destroy, ana Chicago, with her great
business division in mournful ruin, is greater, in the resources of
regaining what she has lost, than any city ever built by human
hands on a site possessing the greatest possible advantages of nature
Moreover, there is in the history of all great fires a lesson whose

51S hibtokv of thi-: <;i:eat fires
unbroken force bears mightily upon our bewildering present. It
is thi.- : From the debris of all great conflagrations has sprung a
Tfiptcl greater in everything that constitutes human good than was
that which preceded the ruin. The great fires of London, with
out a single exception, increased the city's popidation and swelled
her commerce. Every burnt portion of Constantinople, the city
nf tires, has been rebuilt so much better, that fire in the East is
looked upon as an agent of civilization; the new in every case is
greater and stronger than the old.
" New York, by her great fire, has gained ten times more than
she lost. Portland, which lost $9,000,000 worth on July 4,1866,
now considers that conflagration a blessing, for the number of her;,
people, their commercial prosperity, and her home and foreign
trade have been enhanced in five years as they could not have
been save by the occurrence of so tremendous a catastrophe.
•'Already the ring of the carpenter's hammer and the click of the -
mason's trowel tell of renovation. The ruins are being brushed
away, and marts where busy trade will reign before a month has
passed are springing up as if by magic. The marvel of Chicago's
growth has been equalled only by the magnitude of her downfall;
but both will be surpassed by the miracle of her resurrection. We
base lost, it is said, more than $200,000,000. All that we had a
week ago was made by these agencies:
" 1. Individual energy, pluck, and enterprise.
"2. The Lakes.
"3. The Railroads.
" Is any one of these three agencies destroyed ? Not one ! "

JOHN M. VAN OSDEL.

IN CIHCAGO AND THE WE6T. 521

CHAPTEB XXXVI

The men of nerve and brain, of energy and courage, remain to
guide the destinies and uphold the character of the city. In this
the fire was merciful. Had a plague or other epidemic cut down
om- men, and decimated our population of leaders, this would have
been a worse calamity than loss of property.
The press is still in the field, unconquered, and binds its mag
nificent powera to the re-creation of trade and confidence. JlW,
...-' The architects, builders, merchants, manufacturers, mechanics
and artisans are working together manfully, and the future seems
big with promises of superior excellence and grandeur.
Several of these founders have aheady been named and out
lined on former pages of this book ; those who are to follow are
but specimens of hundreds equally deserving as models in those
qualities and deeds which have raised our city to its princely
eminence, and shall lift it out of ruin into increased glory and
greatness. These memoirs we have compiled from " Biographical
Sketches," published in 1868.
Mi-. J. Y. Scammon, whose name has occurred in connection
with the burning of his mansion in Terrace How, was a Maine
boy, and after finishing his studies, he left his native State for a
tour of observation.
•' In the course of this journey he reached Chicago, in Septem
ber, 1835. He made the voyage on a steamer from Buffalo vid
Green Bay, and the passengers were landed at Chicago by means
of small boats, the steamer being unable to enter harbor. He put
up at the old Saugauash Hotel, which was reached from the land
ing by a devious path through prairie-grass and deep mud. The
hotel was crowded, the weather horrible, and large numbers of the
people were siek with bilious fever. Chicago presented no very
inviting prospect to the stranger. At that time the late Colonel
Richard I. Hamilton was Clerk of the Court of Cook County, and
30

522 HISTORY 01' THK UK HAT FIRES
Mr. Henry Moore, an attorney, was his deputy. When the weathei
had improved sufficiently to justify his travelling, Mr. Scammon
made ready to depart ; but on the very eve of his leaving, Mr.
Moore called upon him, stating that the Circuit Court had com
menced its session ; that he could no longer serve as deputy ; that
the person employed in his place had been stricken down with
fever, and therefore he desired Mr. Scammon to assist Colonel
Hamilton during the term. The request was complied with. In
the rooms of this building Mr. Scammon performed the duties of
Clerk of the Court, received his clients, and lodged at night. :iEn
1836, he entered into partnership with B. S. Morris, Esq., in the law
business, which continued for eighteen months. A year later, he '¦
formed a law partnership with Norman B. Judd, which continued
until 1847. At that time Mr. Scammon had become largely in
terested in the Galena Railroad enterprise, and devoted his time
principally to that business.
" The men of the present day can hardly be expected to com
prehend fully the courage and enterprise necessary at that time
to keep alive the project of a railroad extending westward from
Chicago. The construction at the present day of two or more
railroads across the continent, with branches and cross-roads, is
not one-half so imposing and startling an enterprise as that which
in those days was projected by Messrs. Ogden and Scammon.
When these gentlemen came to Chicago, Illinois was in the full
glow of excitement upon the grand question of internal improve
ments. This system, which, so far as railroads were concerned,
excluded Chicago, culminated in 1837, and sunk rapidly. A
must disastrous torpidity of enterprise followed. Capitalists
avoided Illinois, and the hope of any railroads was abandoned
by even the most sanguine. Messrs. Scammon and Ogden stood
almost alone amid the ruins, unappalled by the overwhelming
disaster. The Michigan Central Railway eventually extended its
line to Lake Michigan, at New Buffalo, and there it had stopped.

TN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 528
Messrs. Ogden and Scammon, after a long effort, succeeded in
reviving an abandoned Indiana charter, giving the exclusive
right to construct a railroad from Michigan City to Chicago, and
to this law is Chicago indebted for its first continuous railroad
communication eastward.
"Previous to this, these gentlemen had travelled repeatedly
from Chicago to Galena, holding meetings in every village and
at every cross-road, urging the people to a united effort to secure
a railroad communication from the Mississippi to Chicago, and
thence east They both had invested largely in the enterprise,
and they, by personal pledges, eventually succeeded in obtaining
subscriptions to stock to an amount sufficient to authorize the
commencement of the railroad, being the pioneer railroad in the
vast combination of roads which now bring the treasures of the
West to the lap of Chicago.
" One of the early settlers of Chicago, he has been one of the
early founders of many of its institutions. He was the first of
the New Church or Swedenborgian body of Christians in Chicago.
He and his wife and one other person were the founders of that
body of Northern Illinois, and he has lived to see himself sur
rounded by a numerous circle of religious associates, and wor
shipping in one of the finest church buildings in the city. He
organized the Church of the New Jerusalem in Chicago. He
was also the first man of any prominence in Chicago who
favored the practice of the medical school of Hahnemann. He
was, as we have seen, a pioneer in the railroad system ; he estab
lished the firet bank under the general banking law of the State ;
he was one of the original founders of the Chicago Academy of
Sciences, and of the Chicago Astronomical Society, and is the
President of the Board of Trustees of each of those societies.
The Dearborn Tower, the western tower of the grand edifice of
the Chicago University, in which is placed the Alvan Clark
Telescope, the largest refracting telescope in the world, was

524 HISTORY OF THK GREAT FIRES
built at his expense, and named in honor of his deceased wife,
whose maiden name was Dearborn. He was elected one of the
Trustees of the Chicago University on his return from Europe,
and one of its professorships was endowed by his munificence.
The family of Mr. Scammon consists of one son and two daughters."
This man still lives to consecrate his genius and experience
with undivided earnestness to the rearing again of our fallen
metropolis. From this sketch we can see through what difficul
ties Chicago rose to power, and easily believe that the present
obstacles are far less imposing than those which he materially
helped to overcome. He may have less to give than before the
fire, but having experienced the blessedness of large liberality, he
will not be backward in renewing his labors in behalf of the
institutions imperatively demanded by a vast population.
The future appearance and character of the buildings of the
new city must depend on its architects, among whom, representa
tive names are William W. Boyington and John M. Van OsdeL
When we have looked on the ruins of the superb edifices designed
and erected under their supervision, we have felt sympathy for
these men, whose monuments seem to have crumbled into dust.
In the old world we see the names of architects imperishably
connected with the massive and eleijant structures which are his-
toric ; when these fall, the work of the builders passes away, and
appeals no longer to men's admiration and reverence. It is the
fortune of our architects that they live to renew these memorials
of their skill and power, and to write their names indelibly upon
the future of Chicago; and, already, their heads and hands
are full of plans and contracts for buildings which shall rival
those that have melted and perished. The men who have means
eagerly place them again in brick, iron, stone, and mortar, demon
strating their unshaken faith in the inevitable greatness of the
new city and in the ability of the architects whose work the fire
destroyed.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 525
" Prominent among the architects of the city of Chicago stands
the subject of this sketch — William W. Boyington — a true repre
sentative of his class, and an acknowledged leader in that great
architectural reform which, during the fourteen years of his resi
dence here, has been in progress in Chicago, appropriating her
waste places to occupancy by the busy multitude, and changing
her shanty dwellings to palaces, wherein operate and dwell the
real kings of the Great West — her business men. He has been a
power in shaping the destiny of Chicago in its external aspect.
From him has gone forth the fiat which has set at work and kept
busy thousands of intelligent workmen, whose every movement
was, in harmony with the one great idea'of the author, and ever
tending to its completion. Dozens of draughtsmen and clerks
have detailed his conceptions on paper, and thousands have given
them more enduring form in wood, brick, cement, or marble. A
vast number of our largest, most stately, and most useful edifices
are the realizations of his thoughts on architecture.
" In the spring of 1853 Mr. Boyington came out to Chicago, to
see the chances offered in this city, which was then just beginning
to be talked about in the East. He returned home, and after
some months' delay, wound up his business in Massachusetts, and
iu November removed hither. His first work here was to make out
a plan for Charles Walker, Esq., of the ground on which the great
Central Union Depot now stands, showing the character of the
buildings which could be placed upon it, the Railroad Company
being then about negotiating for the site for the depot grounds.
He has been ever since that period most prominently identified
with the history of our civic growth, as the city was just ready for
architectural style, finding ample scope for the exercise of his
talents, and generally meeting with the recognition which Mb
ability deserved, especially after the first few months, by which
time he was generally conceded to be a man of extraordinary
talent in his profession. His success during the subsequent thir-

526

HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRKS

teen years is scarcely equalled in the history of any architect in
the whole of the United States.
" Up to the year 1853, when Mr. Boyington came to Chicago,
the city could boast of but very few buildings worthy of note in an
architectural point of view. Here and there a structure was vis
ible possessing some claims to notiee, but, with a limited range of
exceptions, the buildings in. the city were little better in appear
ance or comfort than the old log-house, and not one-half so sub
stantial. How wonderfully the scene has changed ! . The revul- .
sions of commercial panics, the universal suspension of banks, the-
almost entire stagnations of trade, the terrible excitements of war,
none of these have stayed the successive piling of bricks, the Ag
gregation of slabs of marble, and the rearing of massive timbers,.
to fonn our city into one great system of architectural beauty."
Mr. Boyington is not past his prime, and with all his immense-
experience he can outdo his former achievements, and leave him
self many monuments by which his fame will be transmitted to-
posterity. Fortunate for the city is it that he lives, and men
like him, to reconstruct the public and private buildings, which
shall be our honor, our profit, and our joy.
His colaborer and competitor is also in the vigor of an ener
getic maturity, aud has plunged anew into his profession.
" In the autumn of 1836 Mr. Van Osdel formed the acquaint
ance of Hon. William B. Ogden, of this city, which resulted in
In's removal to Chicago. Mr. Ogden at firet engaged his services
simply as a master-builder; but soon found that he was everyway
competent for the responsibilities of an architect, and engaged
him to design as well as construct a residence for him in this city.
The house which he built on Ontario street, the following season,.
was for several years the best in the city, and is still occupied by
Mr. Ogden." We have read the sad story of Mr. Ogden's attempt
to find it after the fire.
" Mr. Van Osdel also turned his attention to ship-joinery, and

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 527
to him belongs the honor of having done the finishing of the first
vessels that were built in Chicago, being the two steamboats
' James Allen,' and ' George W. Dole.' Our lake commerce was
a mere trifle at that time ; but it had begun to give promise of
its gigantic future. In 1838 he constructed several large pumps
on the Archimedean-screw principle, for the purpose of lifting
water out of the excavations then in process for the Illinois and
Michigan Depot. During the following winter Mr. Van Osdel
invented a horizontal wind-wheel, which was extensively used in
working these canal-pumps. • The first important work on. fchich
he engaged on his return to Chicago, which was in the spring of
1841, was the erection of grain-elevators. ->Here, too, he was the
pioneer. ¦ > >\i'j&^mivht?' ._¦.? ' -••- i.>- ...»':'-> .,
" In 1843 he entered into partnership with Elihu Granger, in
the iron foundry and machine business. This partnership con
tinued until February, 1845. His wife dying at the time, and hia,
own health being impaired by over-work, he was advised by the
leading builders to devote his time to architecture, they pledging
him their support. He therefore opened an office on Clark street,
over Mrs. Bostwick's millinery store, precisely where is now the
main entrance to the Sherman House. His receipts during the
first year were only five hundred dollars, although he did all the
business of the kind which there was to be done in the city. As
the city grow, and his skill as an architect became more widely
known, his business increased, until his net profits for the three
years ending in 1859 were thirty-two thousand dollars.
" To enumerate all the public buildings, private residences, and
extensive mercantile blocks which were designed by Mr. Van
Osdel, and built under his superintendence, would be to give a
long list, including many of the best edifices, not only of Chicago,
but of Illinois. We will only mention as specimens, the Cook
County Court-Honse, the Chicago City Hall, the Trcmont House,
all the five-story iron-front buildings in the city, being over eleven

528

HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES

hundred lineal feet of such frontage; the residence of Peter
Schuttler, comer of Adams and Aberdeen streets, Chicago ; the
residences of ex-Governors Matteson, of Springfield, and Wood, of
Quincy — the three finest residences in the State. Mr. Van Os
del has accumulated an ample fortune ; he has not suffered him
self, however, to be placed upon the retired list, but is to-day one
of the most active men in the city. He is at present architect for
the completion of the State Penitentiary. His report on the pro
gress of the work, with estimates of work done and to be done,
received the unanimous approval of the last General Assembly of
Illinois, which pointed him out as the architect best deserving a
place among the Trustees of the Illinois Industrial College, located
at Champaign. He was elected by the Board as a member of the
Finance and Executive Committees, also of the Committee on
Buildings and Grounds, three of the most important committees
of the Board. Mr. Van Osdel was mainly instrumental in' having
a Polytechnic School established in Chicago as a branch of the
Industrial University, of which he is Treasurer." Since the
above notes were made, he has built the most magnificent stores
in Chicago, and is Potter Palmer's architect for the new hotel,
which is designed to eclipse anything in the world. These men
are prominent supporters of the church, and eminent for their
liberality. From them we turn to the merchant princes, and select Mr.
John V. Farwell and Mr. C. T. Bowen as men of whom the city
is justly proud. The uame of " Farwell Hall " was a fitting recog
nition of his generosity towards the Young Men's Christian Asso
ciation, which had its headquarters in that building. And Mr.
Bowen had begun a foundation for a Youth's Library in that Hall,
which would have been as useful to the generations to come as it
was honorable to his head and heart.
" In the spring of 1845 Mr. F. left off his bookB and cametoChi- v
cago with exactly three dollars and twenty-five cents in his pocket,

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 529
working his passage on a load of wheat. The road was a canal of
mud. Driver and passenger frequently had to put their shoulders
to the wheel, or their hands to the lever. They made their ninety-
five miles in four days, without losing their temper or calling upon
Hercules, who, if he were a witness of the spectacle, must have
wondered afterwards, as he saw in the affluent merchant the youth
who pried the load of hay out of the prairie-mud. Reaching
Chicago, he drifted into the Cily Clerk's office, and got employment
at twelve dollars per month
•.v.* His aptness for business , was - soon apparent. , He had skill in
trading, in managing and in planning, and energy adequate to the
carrying out of his plans. '. .Besides this, he was one of the few
who realized the possibilities of the Northwest, and fully foresaw
the destiny of Chicago. While others conjectured, he was con
vinced ; while others stood by wondering whether to invest, he
went forward and proved his faith by his works, and a great, high
faith he had in this city and this section when he became a part
ner in the firm he had served as salesman. His hand was felt
npon the helm immediately, and his word had weight in the coun
cils of the concern. That was in 1851, when the house did a busi
ness of about §100,000 per annum. Its business now foots up
$10,000,000. The entire dry-goods commerce of the city had a
new impetus under the leadership of Mr. Farwell. For lead he
did, with such boldness as to confound the wisdom of the wise in
trade, and to make the most enterprising among them shake their
heads in an admonitory fashion.
"In 1856, through Mr. Farwell's irresistible persistency, the
wholesale mart on Wabash avenue was built, now occupied by the
firm of John V. Farwell & Co., wliich, after several changes, came
to be the name of the firm in 1865. The enterprise was stoutly
opposed by the oldest member of what was then the firm, and was
sot down by the longest heads in the city as a project that must
bring its owners to ruin. But time has demonstrated the wisdom

530 HISTOUY OF THE GREAT FIRES
of the imdertaking. It was to the wholesale dry-goods cause of the
Northwest what the memorable raid of Sherman was to the cause
of the National Government. If it was daring to look forward
to, it was grand to look back upon.
" The men who built a commerce are to be honored with those
who found a commonwealth. Commerce is the corner-stone of the
commonwealth. Firet ships, then schools; first trade in corn,
then in books. What are dwelling-houses without warehouses?
" But for commerce there hadjseen no Chicago. Once a commer
cial capital, and Chicago became a seat of learning and of literature,
a market for knowledge as well as for breadstuffs and dry-goods.
This is the metropolis which the man of this sketch helped mightily
to build by his enterprise, and then to adorn with his philan
thropy. And such men have a fame which Chicago will never let
die. Their renown is indissolubly linked with hers. And as we
ramble through this buzzing and busy dry-goods hive on the Av
enue, with its hundred of men and its piles of fabrics from every part
of the commercial world, we cannot but feel a thrill of pride in the
man who founded and built it all. But we have a livelier and a
nobler satisfaction when we contemplate this man as " the servant
who was found faithful ' to his stewardship, as well as the merchant
who was found equal to every exigency. Prosperity did not
quench the ardor > >f his convictions, deaden his sensibilities, nor
blunt his moral sense. When poverty departed it did not carry
conscience away with it ; when riches came they did not bring
penuriousness along, but openhandedness instead. The merchant
had an end beyond his merchandise, the tradesman was not con
tent with trade. Affluence was made no excuse for self-indul
gence. The miserable cupidity which brings a man to his knees be
fore the golden calf was held in scornful detestation. The grovel
ling avarice wliich makes a business man a slave to his business was
equally dcspi-eil. The love of Christ constrained the love of
money. The love of Cod induced the love of man, and the love

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 531
of man was shown by deeds and devices for his amelioration and
elevation. Mr. Farwell increased in philanthropy as he increased
in means for exercising it The world which lieth in wicked
ness, and the church which is as a net to save it, are the objects
of his alert solicitude and unremitting liberality." His brother,
C. B. Farwell, is the member of Congress from Cook county, and
is a man of brains and energy. They have gone forward with
accustomed sagacity and pluck in the restoration of the com
merce- of Chicago."^!r''.-:>-^H,-'*'^^'.r'''^.- i.- "-"•.•¦ ¦ • '- mibix*" r-'M-.\l''.f '•¦;'¦
' Mr." Bowen' was bom m New York State, and at the age of •>
seventeen "was a clerk In 'Little FaDay #From there our future:
merchant came to Chicago/ and entered the service of Mr. Wood,-
who was the first to introduce into the village the system of trad
ing on strictly cash principles. Never was a clerk better suited
for his position, and the duties which devolved upon him were
admirably adapted to fit him for the part he was afterwards to
sustain in the commercial development of this city and the North
west. Before he had been in Mr. Wood's employ three months,
he was placed at the head of the establishment. The proprietor
was absent the greater part of the time, and the whole responsi
bility rested upon the shoulders of young Bowen. He gave his
personal attention to every department of the business. He was
at once cashier, bookkeeper, and head salesman ; the first man at
the store in the moi-ning, and the last to leave at night. But his
labors were not confined to the counter and the desk. Not con
tent with seeing tha., customers were well served and books accu
rately kept, he added largely to the custom of the establishment
by pursuing a system of advertising and ' drumming ' peculiarly
adapted to these pioneer days. At that time it was the custom of
the farmers from the country to come to Chicago with their pro
duce, and camp out for the night in what was then the southern
suburbs of the town, in the vicinity of Eighteenth street, and it
was Mr. "Bowen's practice, mornings, before it was time for trade,

532 HISTORY OK THE GREAT FIRES
to go the rounds of the camp and distribute advertising circulars
among the campers, setting forth the superior inducements of
' The People's Cheap Store.' Not content with merely scattering
these, he would, by a few words fitly spoken, win upon their per
sonal favor. In that way he became widely and always favorably
known to a large circle of customers, whose trade added materi
ally to the profits of his employers. The personal popularity of
young Bowen was very great. The fanners liked to trade with
him better than with a kid-glove counter-jumper, who fancies the.
condition of mercantile success is good clothes and fastidious draw- ;
ing -room manners. And we may add that the same good sense ,
whiyh characterized Mr. Bowen then, has ever since. Not only
so, but he has been careful to surrround himself with associates
and assistants similar in character. At this day there is no one
connected with his establishment, from the senior member of the
firm to the porters, who does not by his works show his faith in.
the dignity of labor, of whatever kind.
" Mr. Bowen's theory in regard to advertising was then, and al
ways has been, that no promises in regard to qualify of goods or
their price should be made that he could not fulfil. Enterprise
may reap an ephemeral reward, even when dishonest ; but great,
lasting success is conditioned on probity.
" Mr. Wood was not slow to testify his appreciation of" the ser
vices. The salary for the first year had been fixed at two hundred
dollars, but at the end of the year Mr. Bowen found six hundred
dollars credited to his account, without anything having been said
by either party upon the subject. At the same time his salary
was, without solicitation, raised to one thousand dollars. This was
nobly generous of Mr. Wood. Yet he could richly afford to do it,
for the young man's services, even then, were remarkably cheap,
considering the amonnt and kind of service rendered.
" In 1S53, Mr. Wood retired from business. He was succeeded
by Mills, Bowen & Dillingbeck. The members of the firm were

m CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 533
D. H. Mills, George S. Bowen, Chauncy T. Bowen, and Stephen
Dillingbeck. The business continued to be conducted on the
same plan as before, only on a much larger scale, and even more
profitable. This firm was in 1856 succeeded by the famous
house of Bowen Brothers, of which George S. and Chauncy T.
were thcco-partners. In July, 1857, their oldeet brother, James
H Bowen, came on from Albany, New York, and joined them.
The business of this house during the last ton yeare has-been
immense. There is not a merchant in the West who has not
heard of Bowen Brothers, and the majority of those who have
been in trade any length of time have," doubtless, had more or less
dealings with them. The enviable, reputation of Chicago as a
centre for wholesale supplies is largely due to the enterprise and
scrupulous honesty of this house. Its sales for the last three years
amounted to more than fifteen million dollars. Neither St. Louis
nor Cincinnati, cities which once looked down in disdain upon*
Chicago, has a house that can make any such showing into several
millions. About a year ago the firm of Bowen Bros, retired from
business, and erected one of the finest mercantile blocks in the
city." Men who began at the bottom and climbed to the top, Imow
well how to repeat their efforts when reverses come. Along with
these pioneers and founders have come up a host of young men
of sterling stuff, whose opportunity has now arrived, and who will
have before them a grand career, worthy of being written out for
the admiration and encouragement of succeeding generations

CHAPTER XXXVTL

" The West cannot exist without Chicago ; her natural situation and advan
tages give her control of the Western States, and in fnture times, seated in
all the majesty of empire, on Lake Michigan, she shall look back, as to a fear
ful dream, upon tho recent conflagration, and in all probability remember it as a
blearing rather than a curse." — Anon.

534 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
Faith, existing in the hearts and throbbing in the pulses of
great or common men, could not produce grass on the top of a
bare rock, or create a city without people and without the co
operation of nature. We have no king to dictate where towns
shall be established, and compel them to be inhabited. In this
free country, men gather into the best locations, as naturally as
water runs down hill. And probably there is no spot more
adapted to the wants of the commerce of the Northwest, in all its
vast domains, than that on which Chicago stands.
The energetic and wise master-builders have planned well and
executed firmly, and they need profound wisdom and limitless
energy to fulfil all the hopes of mankind ; but it would seem as
though Providence had provided a place for the confluence of
nations, and given every possible suggestion to guide and encour
age our citizens. The fire has altered no natural laws, changed
none of the causes of growth that inhere in the geographical posi
tion, left materially uninjured much that has been done to pro
mote the transaction of business and the comfort and ease of liv
ing; while it has advertised us to the world, and opened to us
their sympathies, as nothing else could have done. True, there
is much latent selfishness in the world, and men will go where
they can buy for the least money what they want — in short,
where they thiuk they can do the best for themselves. If we
keep the largest stocks, and sell for the smallest profits, and con
vince the world about us that this is true, our city will continue
to command the attention of buyers and sellers, and grow into
increased greatness. These results are possible, because of our
magnificent harbor for the Lake shipping. Already we have
thirty four miles of dockage, with opportunities for indefinite ex
pansion, by means of slips, and are at the head of the grandest
inland navigation on the globe.
" During eight months of the year there is an average daily ar
rival and departure of some fifty sailing vessels and steamers.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WES1. 535
These bring coal, iron, wood, lumber, and heavy goods. Of these
Lake craft, three hundred and ninety-eight are owned in Chicago.
These are of an average capacity of 214£ tons ; the exact aggre
gate is S5,313 tons. Vessels bringing coal and iron from Buffalo
and Cleveland are much larger. The entire fleet entering and
clearing from the port of Chicago average 239$ tons ; and the
total number during the eight months of 1870, from April to
November, both inclusive, was 12,546; while the arrivals and
departures, during the same eight months at the ports of New
York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, New .Orleans, .San...Francisco,
Mobile, and Savannah, were 12,259 -^287 less than at the single
port of Chicago. It is true, the sailing vessels and steamers en
tering New York are much larger— averaging 599ftons; but
even their aggregate tonnage is far less than the port of Chicago 1
The fleets of deeply-laden vessels that daily arrive and depart
from our youthful city would greatly surprise even a resident of
New York or Liverpool."
The deepening of the canal to the Illinois River, which is thus
connected with Lake Michigan, must greatly increase the already
enormous trade which floats on its bosom. This all remains in
tact ; and five of the grain-elevators stand erect and ready for
business. So that the great expectations of Chicago cannot fail,
unless nature fails, and the world burns up. Our system of parks
will be needed in due season ; and the continuous drive through
parks and boulevards of twenty miles, all round the city, will yet
be thronged with the prosperous and happy people of our recon
structed metropolis.
The railroads of the Northwest are till vitally concerned in the
now Chicago's prosperity, and each added mile is directly or in
directly tributary to the markets of this city. Besides the great
rival lines to the Pacific now in operation, the Northern Pacific
commands an immense territory, a vast empire of fertile lands
rich in mineral resources ; and this must become a source of

536 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
wealth, also, to us, bringing not only that splendid region to our
doors, but aiding us to control the Oriental trade which has en
riched so many cities of the world.
Our manufactures have begun to acquire root, and strength,.
and are destined to develop indefinitely, because the labor, coal,
and materials are all here waiting the call of capital to convert
them into immense profit. The following table shows what
nationalities are here, and suggest the various industries they
pursue, and the ties which bind us to the Old World. The num
bers represent families : — - y, '$:¦ '•' .
United States  :.V. 28,839
Ireland  .^19,145
Canada  3,167 '
Norway  2,910
Austria  1,426
Denmark  655
Poland   370
Italy  275
Germany  28,870
England  4,947
Sweden  2,940
Scotland  1,750
France  722
Holland  527
Switzerland  337
Wales  % ,. 247
Besides these, there are families from twenty-seven other coun
tries. Whatever business any man may wish to follow or carry
on, which appertains to civilized communities, he can find the
artisans here who know how to aid him. These people are mainly
inhabitants of Chicago still, and their presence will attract and
employ the capital of the world.
The actual indebtedness of Chicago is under fifteen millions,

JOHN Y. FARWELL.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 639
and the largest part of the improvements remain for which this
money was expended. According to the best estimates, our total
loss will amount to two hundred and ten millions. A portion
of this will be recovered as a basis of operations, so that we are
better off to-day than we were fifteen, or possibly ten, years ago.
The instantaneous leap forward, after the first touch of the
hand of a world's charity, and the successive strides of the Young
Giant, towards former supremacy, assure us that the future shall
be as the past, and increasingly glorious. - - !
AGE AND POPULATION OP WESTERN CUTIES.
-yfe- >;>¦
.'¦_.' BetUed. Population, 1870.
y ' Detroit  .t?^£700. * ';;-;* -/ 79,580
'' St. Louis  .1 ';'?.1764 ' ' } f''" 310,864 m
Pittsburgh  1784 86,235
Louisville  1785 100,754
Cincinnati  1789 216,239
Chicago  1830 70
Chicago, present population  1871 334,270
Facilities for the cattle trade have been furnished by the Union
Stock Yards, which the .fire did not harm, and are of such im
portance as to justify the insertion of the following description :
Probably no enterprise in the history of Chicago has combined
so many corporations and capitalists together into one great com
pany as the Great Union Stock Yards. Bailroad companies that
have heretofore been rivals for the live stock trade of the West,
and often at war with each other upon this subject, are now a unit,
working together as architects of this great undertaking. Their
tracks have been extended to a common centre, and nine of the
former competing roads now connect directly with the Great
Union Stock Yards. The broad prairie that stretches southward
from the city is now traversed and retraversed by their different
branches, all tending toward the great bovine city of the world.

540 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FHtES
Packers and commission dealers, whose extensive establishments
have heretofore demanded their entire attention, are now found
at this nucleus, prospecting upon the results of the enterprise,
laying plans for the future, and prognosticating the prosperity
that is to follow the opening of this great cattle mart. Their esti
mates for the future might be considered chimerical by the Rip
Van Winkles of other and less go-ahead cities ; but Western men
know the extent of the broad prairies of Illinois and neighboring
States, which stretch away like the pampas of South America, ••at
yielding pasturage for innumerable herds of cattle, found nowhere*
else in the country. ' ": \*\
Among the first business transactions of the hamlet, now grown '"\
into this great city, was buying and selling cattle and swine, large
herds of which were easily driven to market here, slaughtered, and
shipped to other points. The packing business was only another
branch of the trade, and beef packed in Chicago was to be found
in the marts of Liverpool long before the growing Western town
from whence it came had a "local habitation and a name " among
the cities of the continent.
At the World's Fair, held in London several years ago, the at
tention of Queen Victoria and Trince Albert was called to several
tierces of beef from the packing establishment of the Houghs, in
Chicago ; and they were awarded a premium. Thus the pro
duce of the new city began to grow in the estimation of foreign
dealers, and an impetus was given to the trade. Steadily advan
cing, the exports from our harbor began to look like those of much
older cities ; and St.* Louis and Cincinnati lost their laurels — the
latter ceasing to be the recognized " porkopolis " of the land.
Beaching out like a young giant, the new commercial port seized
upon the produce of the prairies of Hlinois and the West, and put
an embargo upon the growth of older towns less centrally located.
Dealers in live stock soon left their old landmarks in Cincinnati,
St. Louis, Louisville, and established themselves in the Garden

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 541
City ; the places that had known them knowing them no more,
unless it was to hear of their prosperity and increasing wealth.
Railroads sprang into existence, and cut the prairies in every di
rection, while the lakes were whitened by the unfurled sails of
thousands of vessels; and the great rush of business which now
blesses Chicago as a metropolis was established permanently,
upon a basis having for its foundations millions of acres of pro
ductive lands, great natural resources, and untold commercial
advantages. On the first of June, of the present year, ground was broken
for the new yards. The first thing to be done was to, drain the
land — a work of no small importance. ,j An immense box sewer
was constructed along Halstead street, to serve as a main dis
charge for the drains and sewers. This structure is half a mile
in length, running north and south, and four feet in the clear.
Constructed on the most improved plans, these drains and sewers,
underlying the yards in every direction, perform their work in
the most admirable manner. The soil is now in good condition,
and no inconvenience will be experienced from wet land or stand
ing water. In this particular, the great bovine city will be f&r
ahead of the populous and crowded human city which it adjoins,
and of which it is destined to become an important part.
The total length of the drains and sewers is about thirty miles.
They have caused a wonderful transformation in the level, wet
land on the prairie, which it has heretofore been considered im
possible to drain. The argument deduced from this is, that all
the low land surrounding Chicago is valuable for building pur
poses, and that it can be thoroughly drained, so as to afford a
solid foundation for structures of any size.
Tho tract of land selected as the site of the yards was now
thoroughly drained, and what a short time before was a marshy
prairie, covered with rank grass, appeared dry and firm, admit
ting of the passage of loaded wagons, and the laying of railroad

542 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
tracks over it. Lines of rails were soon constructed, leading from
different railroads, which were to transport the immense amount
of lumber required for the construction of the yards to the spot.
Larcjo sills of timber were placed upon the ground, across which
were laid three-inch joists. Upon this foundation the planking
was commenced. That portion of the yards to be used for cattle
pens was planked with three-inch pine planks, placed firmly upon
the joists and nailed thereto. Two-inch plank was similarly
placed upon those portions where the hogs are to be kept. The
planking being raised from the ground, affords the water arid
refuse from the yards an opportunity of draining off to the groundr
where it immediately finds its way into the drains and sewers
which underlie the whole, thence into the main sewer on Halsted
street, and into the river. The entire planking, like the draining,
was done in the most substantial manner, no expense or pains
being spared to make it firm and solid, so that no accidents
might result in the future from its sinking or breaking through,
beneath the tread of the herds destined to- pass over it. A por
tion of the planking was done by contract, and the remainder by
the company. As many as 1,000 men were employed upon it at
one time.
The entire 345 acres comprised in the yards are laid out into
streets and alleys, in the same manner as a large city. Through
the centre, from north to south, runs a broad avenuer which has
been named E street. This great central thoroughfare is one
mile in length, and seventy-five feet broad. It is divided into
three sections, like a bridge, to facilitate the driving of cattle
through it. Droves passing to tho south will take one section;
those passing to tho north, another, meeting on the way without
tiic slightest inconvenience or stoppage. The drover's whip will
not be called into requisition in passing through this avenue, as
all will be " fair sailing." This street runs through the entire
grounds, and is paved with Nicolson pavement; the blocks used

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEBT. 543
being the refuse ends of plank, etc., which economy greatly re
duced the expense. There is not a finer or smoother drive in
Chicago than this well-paved and finely rounded street. Run
ning parallel to Avenue E are other streets, leading to the rail
roads that surround the yards on all sides but the south.
These streets are crossed at right angles by others, running
east and west. The principal one of these passes by the Hotel,
and has been named " Broadway " by the workmen. It is, indeed,
a broad avenue, and will probably retain the name, as it leads
from the Hough House to the, Bank .and Exchange building,
where the life arid excitement* of the yards will centre. It is
sixty-six feet wide, planked with heavy timber, and traversed on
the south by a raised sidewalk. ' y.'.i.MlV-! ¦" -..-
There are five hundred of these enclosures, all lying on the dif
ferent streets, like the buildings of a city, and all probably num
bered. In size these enclosures vary from 20 X 35 to 85 x 112,
while otliers are precisely the size of a car, calculated to hold just
one car-load of stock. The cattle-pens are open, but those designed
for hogs are covered with sheds, and so arranged as to prevent the
hogs " piling," which they are inclined to do in cold weather.
The yards are provided with six hay-barns and six corn-cribs,
situated on different parts of the enclosure, convenient to different
sections of pens.
Perhaps the greatest feature of these yards is that of the differ
ent railway accommodations. Nine of the principal railroads of
the West find a common centre here. There have been con
structed fifteen miles of track, as branches, which connect these
-roads witli the yards, besides many switch-tracks and side-runs.
Upon the north are tracks of four railroads — the Great Eastern,
the Michigan Central, the Michigan Southern, and the Pittsburg
and Fort Wayne. These roads all run in from the east, and their
tracks tire so arranged by the side of " shoots " that whole trains
can be unloaded at once. On the north, and parallel to the

544 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES i
" shoots " belonging to these roads, are others running nearly par
allel. They are for the accommodation of two roads, the Chicago,
Burlington, and Quincy and the Illinois Central, which also, ap
proach the grounds from the east. The east and west sides of the
yards describe an inward curve, along which are platforms and
" shoots." The Chicago and Rock Island Railroad owns those
upon the east, and the Chicago and Northwestern and the Chicago,
Alton and St. Louis those upon the west, where their tracks are
constructed. By the act of incorporation all the roads have the
privilege of running over each other's tracks, but so ample are the
arrangements that this will seldom, if ever, be necessary. The
yards are provided with water-tanks for. the engines, wood-yards,
turn-tables, and everything 'that is required at a great depot,
which in fact these grounds are — the greatest in the world.
The facilities for loading and unloading cargoes of cattle at
these yards are unsurpassed. Each road has 1,000 feet of plat
form, which is provided with " shoots " leading directly into the
yards and pens of the division appropriated to the use of such
road. When a train of cars loaded with live-stock arrives, it
draws up in front of the "shoots." Gates are so arranged that
they open across the platform extending to the cars, and thus
form an enclosure through which the stock passes directly into
the yards. These gates enable a whole train to unload as quick
as one car. Several of the " shoots " are made double, so that the
upper and lower floors of a carload of hogs can be passed out at
the same time. This arrangement is so perfect that there is little
chance for an accident to happen to the stock as they pass down
the avenue formed by the gates, and are thence driven into the
pens. As many as 500 cars can be loaded or unloaded in this
manner at the same time, the whole operation occupying only a
few moments. This fine arrangement is considered one of the
greatest features of the yards. Water is furnished in ample abun- -
dance by Artesian wells on the place.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 545
Since their opening, these yards have verified the opinions ex
pressed above, and constitute a system as nearly perfect as human
skill can construct. The Hough House has become the Transit
House. A neat chapel, erected by the Second Baptist Church,
and patronized and sustained in part by that bod}', opens its
doors and affords religious privileges to the residents and visitors
there, who take a deep interest in the exercises of the Sunday-
Bchool and the preaching of the gospel. Who shall deny that
Chicago must go forward more swiftly in the future than the
past, when these vast facilities for business which we have named,
and these surroundings of country and population are fully conT
sidered? ¦ .- .- \z\fgfyii%\\V-; v, v. ,...-.,.• : or .('.>. ,-...(*'
,+?The testimony of our rival city, St. Louis, is a generous recog
nition of our geographical supremacy. - Said the Missouri Re
publican : — " Chicago, though stricken in purse and person as no
other city recorded in history ever has been, is not crushed out
and destroyed, and her complete restoration to the place and
power from which she is temporarily removed is only a question
of time. It would be sad, indeed, if a conflagration, though swal
lowing up the last house and the last dollar of a great commer
cial metropolis, could fix the seal of perpetual annihilation upon
it, and declare that the wealth and prosperity which once were
should exist no more forever. Such might be the case, perhaps,
were there none other save human forces at work ; but into the
composition of such a city as that which the demon of fire has
conquered, enter the forces and the necessities of nature. Chi
cago did not become what she was, simply because shrewd capi
talists and energetic business men so ordained it. That mighty
Agent, who fashions suns and stars, and swings them aloft in the
boundless ocean of space, marks out by immutable decree the
channels along which population and trade must flow. When
the first settlers landed at Jamestown and Plymouth, and began
to hew a path for civilization through the primeval forest, it was

546 HISTORY OF THE GEEAT FIRES
as certain as the law of gravitation, that if this continent were
destined to be a new empire, fit to receive the surplus millions of
the eastern hemisphere, and contribute to the progress and en
lightenment of mankind everywhere, there must and would be a
few prominent centres, so to speak, around which the vast ma
chine could revolve. Those centres were determined by the
geography and topography of the country; and when the ad
vancing tide of immigration touched them they began to de
velop as naturally and irresistibly as the flower does beneath the
genial influences of sunshine and showers. For practical pur
poses neither Jamestown nor Plymouth were of any special con
sequence ; therefore the one has ceased to exist altogether, and
the other remains an insignificant town. But the inner shore of
of Boston harbor, the Island of Manhattan, the site of Philadel
phia, Baltimore, Cincinnati, New Orleans, St. Louis, and San
Francisco, furnished the required facilities, and we see the result
to-day. Nature, declares where great cities shall be built, and
man simply obeys the orders of nature.
" The spot where Chicago river empties into Lake Michigan
belongs to the same category as those we have mentioned. It
was designed and intended for the location of a grand mart to
supply the wants of the extreme north-west— that portion of the
central plateau lying on the line and to the north of the Union
Pacific Railway, and the Western part of the British possessions.
The trade from these sections seeks an outlet there, and finds it
better and more available than anywhere else. This fact was
settled before the first brick was laid in Chicago; was settled
when Chicagt rose to the rank of the fifth city in the republic,
and is settled just as firmly now. when, to all human appearances,
her destruction is well nigh accomplished.
" Natural advantages, then, must compel the reconstruction of
Chicago, even though every foot of its soil passes out of the hands
of the present proprietors. And if we examine what the fire has

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 547
spared, it will be found that the nucleus of a new and rapid
growth is not wanting.
" If we add to these resources the railway lines converging to
that point, which represent an aggregate capital of $300,000,000 ;
and remember that every railway is directly interested in the
process of reconstruction, and will aid it in all possible ways, it
may not be difficult for even the most incredulous to see why and
how Chicago must grow again. That she is absolutely ruined or
permanently disabled is sheer impossibility, which no sensible
person will for a moment credit."

CHAPTER xxxvm

If it were possible to obtain a commission of true, honest, pub
lic-spirited citizens, to whom all general affaire were entrusted,
with power to make laws for the city, and determine the charac
ter of its future, they would doubtless greatly change many
things, and introduce reforms and establish customs of incalcula
ble benefit to all coming generations. In the nature of things
this is impossible, and all Utopias exist but in the brain of en
thusiasts, never probably to issue into living realities, while men
are prone to error and sin. Education should be the right and
duty of every child of the city ; in other words, all persons
should enjoy, either freely or compulsorily, the advantages of
learning. The principal temptation of city life should be put
away by the prohibition of all sales of intoxicating liquors, and
by such careful legislation as to prevent any drunkard from ex
isting among us, or any dram-seller plying his trade amoug our
citizens openly or by stealth. Gambling should be made a crime
and absolutely crushed out, and forever prevented. Harlotry
should be trampled under foot, and kept down by every resource

548 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
of law. Honesty should be encouraged, and justice magnified by
the officers and judges, whose example should be above reproach.
The Sabbath should be regarded as a sacred institution of univer
sal obligation, and defended from the encroachments of power or
the perversion of selfishness and ignorance. Religion should be
the voluntary choice of all men ; and its ordinances and ma
chinery, simply protected from the rude hand of violence, should
be given free scope in the improvement and satisfaction of the
people. Literature, science, and art should enjoy every encour
agement, and be made to minister, not, as in Paris, to the worse
portions of our nature, but to the ennobling, gratification, refine
ment, and culture of the whole community.
In the material improvements there should be care exercised to
guard against the recurrence of fires. In the French capital, the
man in whose house the fire begins that consumes property, re
covers no insurance. The buildings also are constructed slowly,
and with such regard to the destroyer's ravages that, in the last
ten years before the Commune, the damage by fire did not
amount, according to the testimony of an American merchant
there, to two hundred thousand dollars. It should, therefore, be
an offence to build, in the heart of the city, of anything combus
tible. Let a city grow to stand half or twice a thousand years.
This would be economy, and our liberty should not be construed
into license to prepare, under our neighbor's eaves, a tinder-box
to burn him down or do him damage. Water arrangements
should be made as perfect and safe as ingenuity could devise and
money procure. Immense engines and accessible reservoirs should
be provided, by which whole blocks could be flooded and placed
beyond peril, as gigantic barriers against the progress of con
flagrations, however furious. The Fire Department should be
organized and drilled to an efficiency like that attained among
soldiers of the regular army.
How magnificent might be the future of our city under a sys-

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 549
tern like this I Our influence would extend on every railway and
highway, borne by the billow and the breeze to remote districts,
and wherever it was felt, the tone of public sentiment would be
exalted, and men would turn to us as the mariner to his compass
or chart, for laws, sentiments, principles, and fashions, and the
whole conduct of life. Our example would be such that the
Republic, energized and purified, would pulsate with new life,
and her glorious career would prolong itself to the end of time.
We close with this pleasant picture drawn by another's hand :
. " Then shall our fair city rise'out of her- ashes, and sit beside
this lake for ten thousand years to come, beautiful for situation,
the joy of the whole earth. The fair Garden City, the" centre
and glory of the garden of the world, one of the fairest jewels in
the diadem of America, the strong right hand of our noble na
tion, where our children will live in great peace and prosperity
when we are dead and gone, where starvation and squalor shall
be known no more, where the poorest home will be filled with
plenty, and the poorest child have an equal chance with the rich
est to come to the knowledge of the truth, as it touches our whole
life here and hereafter. Where all homes will stand close to all
temples, and all temples near all homes — a city like that John
saw in his great vision, that standeth four square, and the height,
and the length, and the breadth of it are equal."

550 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FJRE8

THE FIRES IN WISCONSIN.

CHAPTER TTTTT
While we were struggling in our agony, neighboring States
and communities were also visited by the raging monster, and
suffered a scourge as keenly felt and more destructive of life.
The drought, whose pernicious influence had desiccated the air in
our own vicinity, and parched everything to a state of prepara
tion for fire, was very general in the western country. Water,
for ordinary purposes of family use and for cattle, had become a
luxury in many places, and even an expensive one. The streams
and springs were dry in large sections, and the people unprotected
from such a foe as charged down upon them. Occasional confla
grations were occurring in the woods of Wisconsin and Michigan,
caused by the hunter's carelessness, or as a natural consequence
of his sport. In this way, the wadding lodging in the dry grass,
prairie fires have originated which desolated the fairest regions
of our country, year by year. But upon the blackened soil there
appeared again in the vernal season a fresh growth that made all
look fair when summer came. So we may hope our desolated
regions will bloom again when the forces of nature and the- ener
gies of man combine in harmony to develop the seeds and roots
of beauty and wealth that now lie dormant. The smoke from
these stray burnings increased until the bosom of the Lake was
veiled, and the country inundated by its volume. These things"
were of common occurrence, and did not seem to be precursors,

IN CHICAOO AND THE WEST. 551
as they were, of that devastation which has befallen northern
Wisconsin and western Michigan. In actual loss of life we suf
fered less than the people of those districts ; while the protracted
nature of their visitation and their remoteness from fines of travel
made the individual suffering more keenly felt. Here we had
every comfort that a sympathizing world could provide speedily
brought to our doors ; but there aid came more slowly, as the
tidings of their calamity lingered longer on» the way to the ears
;' of the world. WIND, FIRE, And smoke.
Sylt is difficult to apprehend vividly enough the rush of the wind
.over our prairies, and especially at such a time when the fire
drew the air towards itself with accelerated velocity— each devel
oping the force of the other. Accounts inform us with uniformity
concerning the density of the smoke-cloud, and the intensity of
the fire torrent.
A friend, who was in a sailboat on Little Sturgeon Bay, de
scribes the fire blowing off the shore as terrific, so much so that
trees on an island about half a mile from shore were set on fire,
and the island burned over. He says that after the fire he could
have picked up a yawlboatful of birds in the bay, that had got
burned in their flight, and dropped into the water. A passenger
on one of the Lake boats running across to Green Bay gives some
facts of interest which serve to confirm the dreadful nature of the
time we are describing.
The boat was greatly detained on her upward trip on acconnt
of high wind and smoke, and the latter was so dense that the boat
had to be steered entirely with the compass. The fire on the
east side of the Bay extended in an almost unbroken line from
the eastern shore of Lake Winnebago to the northern extremity
of the Eastern Peninsula, fully 150 miles, burning up in its course
fences, barns, houses, and an endless quantity of cedar telegraph

552 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
poles and tan bark, the latter of which was piled in immense
heaps on the docks. So deep and dismal was the darkness caused
by the immense volume of smoke, that the sun was totally ob
scured for a distance of 200 miles. This midnight darkness
continued for a week. The boat, of course, was delayed, but she
left Escanaba for Green Bay on the fatal Sunday night at twelve
o'clock, but only made her way twelve miles out when forced to
return on account of the stormy sea beneath and the sea of fire
overhead. The air was red with burning fragments, carried all
the way from Peshtigo and other places along the shore, a dis
tance of nearly fifty miles. The boat laid in Escanaba harbor
until six o'clock a.m. Monday, when she was again started, the
storm having but slightly subsided ; but the course was pursued,
and Menomonee was reached with great difficulty. As they
approached Menomonee they passed vessels loaded with furniture,
etc., all being ready to leave if the place took fire. It was here
the passengers learned of the destruction of Peshtigo.
A correspondent writes, twelve days after the event : —
This letter, to give it a local habitation and a name, is dated
where Peshtigo was. In the glory of this Indian summer after
noon I look out on the ghastliest clearing that ever lay before
mortal eyes. The sandy streets glisten with a frightful smooth
ness, and calcined fragments are all that remain of imposing edi
fices and hundreds of peaceful homes. This ominous clearing is
iu the centre of a blackened, withered forest of oak, pine, and
tamarack, with a swift river — the Peshtigo — gliding silently
through the centre, from northeast to southwest. Situated seven
miles from the Green Bay, on the Peshtigo River, the town com
manded all the lumber trade of the northern Peninsula, and grew
rapidly into importance as a frontier mart of Chicago. Built by
an enterprising but lately singularly unfortunate Chicago sufferer,
William B. Ogden, the town has had but one purpose, to make
money for its founder and keep up the lumber interests. But one

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 553
industry breeds many, and in time a railroad running seven miles
to the bay, connected the little city with the great chain of lakes.
Great foundries and machine-shops rose on the banks of the river
and a busy mill stood in ceaseless operation in the centre of the
town. The banks of the Peshtigo teem with a rich and various
growth of timber, and a trade of years stood always in prospective
to her busy people. The great Northern Pacific Railroad was to
be tapped by a road even now building to the place where Pesh-
iltigo was, and every hamlet and town in Northern .Wisconsin
¦ envied and admired the wonderful little city, >•'/,!. sy •wf/j^f^.j/ >¦
:-.*, . The keen eye of trade and speculation was not- deceived ppopu-
lation flocked in amain, and fullyj2,0Q0 people had established
permanent homes. The site was well chosen for beauty as well
as business; the river at this point runs through a slight bluff,
which breaks into a low flat before the stream escapes* from the
borders of the town. The excellent water-power as well as the
lumber interest had determined the spot, and a mill was one of
the first establishments in operation when the walls of the village
began to rise. Below the mill the ground on either bank sloped
gently into low, pebbly flats, which joined the water's edge a few
rods from the centre of the town. The business and residence
streets were wide and well laid out, the houses prettily built and
carefully painted, and little ornamental gardens were frequent.
The river cut the town pretty fairly in twain, the works
and shops of the Peshtigo Company covering most of the north
eastern shore, while trade and business 'for the main part held
themselves on the southwestern bank. The site was, and is to
this day, unmistakably a clearing. A solid wall of pine, oak, and
tamarack hedge in the desolate waste, even now. As it stood,
the pretty bustlin . village combined the orderly enterprise of
New England and the irrepressible vigor of the typical Western
" city." Roads cut.through the forest communicated with a long
line of prospering lumbering hamlets and thriving farms, to the

554 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
west and south. The surrounding woods were interspersed with
innumerable open glades of crisp brown herbage and dried
furze, which had for weeks glowed with the autumn fires that
infest these regions. Little heed was paid them, for the first rain
would inevitably quench the flames. But the rain never came,
and finally valiant battle was waged far and near against the
slowly increasing fires. In this, as in other towns, the danger
was thought well warded off by the general precautions. The fire
had raged up to the very outskirts of the town weeks before that
fatal Sunday, and the fires were set outward to fight the enemy.'-
Everything inflammable had apparently been taken out of harm's^
way on that memorable Sunday. One careful citizen traversed
the western outskirt, and assured his people that no danger could
come from that, quarter.
The sharp air of early October had sent the people in from the
evening church services more promptly than usual, although
numbers delayed to speculate on a great noise and ado which set
in ominously from the west. The housewives looked tremblingly
at the fires and lights within, and the men took a last look at
the possibilities without ; for many it was truly a last glimpse^
The noise grew in volume, and came nearer and nearer with
terrific crackling and detonations. The forest rocked and tossed
tumultuously ; a dire alarm fell upon the imprisoned village, for
the swirling blasts came now from every side. In one awful
instant, before expectation could give shape to the horror, -a great
flamo shot up in the western heavens, and in countless fiery
tongues struck downward into the village, piercing every object
that stood in the town like a red-hot bolt. A deafening roar,
mingled with blasts of electric flame, filled the air, and paralyzed
every soul in the place. There was no beginning to the work of
ruin ; the flaming whirlwind swirled in an instant through the
Itown. There is no diversity in general experience; all heard the
lirst inexplicable roar; some aver that the earth shook, while a

•:-.. ,

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 557
credulous few avow that the heavens opened, and the fire rained
down from above.
Moved by a common instinct, for all knew that the woods that
encircled the town were impenetrable, every habitation was de
serted to the flames, and the grasping multitude flocked to the river.
On the west the mad horde saw the bridge in flames in a score of
places, and turning sharply to the left, with one accord, plunged
i.: into the water. Three himdred people wedged themselves in be*- .
jgjweeri the rolling booms, swayed to and ixo by the current, where
|;they roasted in the hot breath of flaiiies'that hovered above them' :
^'•j ''. - , :, , . _ .. , , 7 ^ >V-»:»M>'»t'*4;v'„ "j";''''''.".*

rand singed the hair on each head momentarily exposed above the
W£'p-i -: r __ '. ' <-¦' -.. '¦ ',^:>-W0i''- '• ¦ ¦ ¦ >-.-•.¦"""-*
__*jrater^JHere despairing men and women , held their , children1 tOl
I'the cold water came as an ally to the flames, and deprived them
yof strength. '. 'fVs^' >1$y :,¦>-? I': : ¦',-, . -'.-.jry.
Meantime the eastern bank was densely crowded by the dying
and the dead. Rushing to the river from this direction the swirl
ing blasts met the victims full in the face and mowed a swath
through the fleeing throng. Inhalation was annihilation. Scores
fell before the firet blast. A few were able to crawl to the pebbly
flats, but so dreadfully disfigured that death must have been pref
erable. All could not reach the river ; even the groups that fell
prone on the grateful damp flats suffered excruciating agony. The
fierce blaze, playing in tremendous counter currents above them
on the higher ground, was sufficiently strong to set the clothing
aflame, and the flying sand, heated as by a furnace, blistered the
flesh wherever it fell. All that could break through the stifling
simoon had come to the river. In the red glare they could see the
sloping bank covered with the bodies of those that fell by the way.
Few living on the back streets succeeded in reaching the river, the
hot breath of the fire cutting them down as they ran. But here a
new danger befelh The cows, terrified by smoke and flame,
rushed in a great lowing drove to the river brink. Women and
children were trampled by the frightened brutes and many,
32

558 inSTORY OF THE great fireb
losing their hold on the friendly logs, were swept under the
waters. This was the situation above the bridge ; below, a no less har
rowing thing happened. The burning timbers of the mill, built
at the edge of the bridge, blew and floated clown upon the multi
tude assembled near the flats, and inflicted the most lamentable
sufferings. The men fought this new death bitterly ; those who
were fortunate enough to have coats flung them over the heads of
wives and children, and dipped water with their hats on the im- .
provised shelter. Scores had every shred of hairfburned off in jhe ';
battle, and many lost their lives in protecting others. LiTheflremen <
had made an effort to save some of the buildings, and .the hose
was run from the river to some important edifice. The heat instantly
stopped the attempt, but not before the hose, swollen with water,
had been burned through in a hundred places. Although the
onslaught of fire and wind had been instantaneous, and the de
struction almost simultaneous, the fierce, stifling currents of heat
careered through the air for hours. These currents were more
fatal than the flames of the burning village. Ignorant of the ex
tent of the fire, and the frightful combination of wind and flames,
many of the company's workmen, some with wives and children,
shut themselves up in the great brick building and perished in the
raging heats of the next half hour. Others on the remote streets
broke for the clearing beyond the woods, but few ever passed the
burning barrier. Within the boundaries of the town and accessi
ble to the multitude the river accommodation was rather limited,
and when the animals had crowded in the situation was full of de
spair. The flats were covered with prone figures with packs ablaze
and faces pressed rigidly into the cooling moist earth. The flames
played about and above all with an incessant, deafening roar.
The tornado was but momentary, but was succeeded by mael
stroms of fire, smoke, cinders, and red-hot sand. Wherever a
building seemed to resist the fire, the roof would be sent whirling

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 559
in the air, breaking into clouds of flame as it fell. The shower
of sparks, cinders, and hot sand fell in continuous and prodigious
force, and did quite as much in killing the people as the firet ter
rific sirocco that succeeded the fire. The wretched throng, neck
deep in the water, and the still more helpless beings stretched on
fthe heated sands, were pierced and blistered by those burning par
ticles. They seemed like lancets of red-hot 6teel, penetrating the
thickest covering. The evidence nbw'jeinams to attest the incred-
p,^ j • ° •¦¦<*; y<-.vyyp ¦¦ , - . •' <¦¦-$<*¦¦&
ible force of the slenderest pencils of {darting -flame/ ¦ Hard?iron-
>3. plow-handles still remain, per^rafe^y as [Jhough by jninni^
alls,land for the main part unbumt ^Wheh the hapless'dweliers
I the remote streets saw themselves ciit^off from the river, groups
broke in all directions in a wild panic* of fright and terror. A
jpew "took refuge in a cleared field bordering on the town. Here
jflat upon the ground, with faces pressed in the sand, the helpless
'. sufferers lay and roasted. But few survived the dreadful agony.
The next day revealed a picture exceeding in- horror any battle
field, — mothers with children hugged closely lay in rigid groups,
the clothes burned off and the poor flesh seared to a crisp. One
mother, solicitous only for her babe, embalms her unutterable
love in the terrible picture left on these woeful sands. With her
bare fingers she had scraped out a pass as the soldiers did before
Petersburg, and pressing the little one into this, she put her own
body above it as a shield, and when the daylight came, both were
dead, — the little baby, face unscarred, but the mother burnt
almost to cinders.
The hardy lumbermen are not wont to exaggerate, and the per
fect accord of every story and incident confirms eveiy episode of
this tragedy. Faithful to the helpless, a stout woodman carried
out on his shoulders one deadly sick of fever. He burrowed for
the helpless body a sepulchre, and then began the struggle for
his own life. He had lingered too long, and his scarred body
was found near the refuge of the man his heroism had preserved.

560 niSTORY OF THE GEEAT FIEES
The tornado played through the desolated streets, and swept
the river and the low land adjoining. The timber of the mil]
floating down among the people, made additional labor and
danger, and daylight broke terribly on the saturated survivors
before they dared drag their cramped limbs from the icy waters.
The mingled crowd of men, women, and children, cows, and
swine had held this wateiy refuge since 10 o'clock of the night
before. Of the hundreds of human beings that entered the
waters not all escaped; the frightened cows trampled many under \
the watere; the blistering heat "bhnded many who^groped hope^J
lessly about in the cm-rent, andJ finally sank. " To thisr; day hone j
can tell how great was the slaughter in' the waters. "After the :
burning heat of the night, a numbing chill followed, and the '
water-so:, ked group crawled over dead bodies and hot sands to the
only blazing building in all the waste about them. Groups of
dead bodies were foimd within a stone's throw of the water ; fam
ilies rushing down for a breathing place had been blown upon
by the rushing blast and struck lifeless. The ghastly throng hud
dled shrieking and bewailing about the flaring embers, and the
terrible roll of the missing was soon called from end to end of the
ashen waste. No vestige of human habitation remained, and the
steaming, freezing, wretched group, crazed by their unutterable
terror and despair, plead with each other to restore the lost ones.
The hot blasts of the night had blinded them, and they could but
vaguely recognize one another in the murky light of the new day.
Long after the flames had died out, when there was no more to
feed on, the hot sands rendered moving about an exquisite torture,
and long into the dismal mid-day tho survivors were confined to
the narrow circuit near the river. As the day wore on, help came
in slowly from tho northward. Several railroad cano-s had es-
caped annihilation, and one gang, led by an cx-prize-fightername&
Mulligan, came with promptness and efficiency to the rescue,
through miles of burning prairie and blockaded roads. On Sun-

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 561
day night something over two thousand people were assembled
within the confines of tliis industrious, prosperous city ; the dread
ful morning light came upon a haggard, maniacal multitude of
less than seven hundred. When the work of rescue began it was
foimd that a great number had escaped by the bed of the river
and the northern road to the port, and as the day advanced, half-
naked stragglers,, unkempt and, blackened, began to stream into
the sparse settlement. As the molten sands cooled, off, the woful
work of recogmtionbeg^M'BeOTnginto blackened faces, mothers,
fathers, brothers trembhnglyjs^ ones^/J^^^*
> Some, in the immeasurable, aiisruiSi of the moment, had dashed
themselves against the sands and let out the life with their own
hands that the licking flames. coveted., ^.^fen too distant from the
river to hope for rescue or safety,' had , cut the throats of their
choking children, and were found in groups sometimes unscarred
by the flames.
In the streets, full twenty corpses were found with no apparent
injury or abrasion. Fatuous tradesmen, in the sudden rush of
flame, had thrown their valuables into wells for security. Every
well in the city was turned into a flaming pit, and the very waters
half evaporated by the heat. Survivors attest that women and
children, cut off from the rivers, were put into wells and covered
with bedding. I have looked into every well in the ash-covered
clearing, and there is no possibility that a living thing could have
endured the flames that boiled and seethed in them.
For hours the unreasoning search was continued by the famish
ed-dying remnants, but to little avail ; the dead, when recognizable,
lay where they had fallen in the streets; where the houses stood,
the ground was whipped clean as a carpet, and all hope of identi
fying human ashes was idle. The next night the long-prayed-foi
rain came, gratefully to the living, and kindly to the fleeting ashes
of the dead. The great dread that hovered over the bay cities and
towns was allayed, and the threatened danger nearly gone. Be

562 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIEES
fore dark, help came to the perishing sufferere from the neighbor
ing villages. The wounded were taken by boat to Green Bay,
whence some were forwarded to Milwaukee.
From 9 o'clock Sunday night until dusk of Monday may be
taken as the time of the main action of this terrible drama. By
Tuesday the sweeping miles of fire had been quenched by Monday
m'ght's rain. A slight drizzle still further aided the work of
rescue. The ravages of the one night's tornado left unmistakable.
traces on every hand. Through the solid growth of timber a clean
swath of blackened stumps and roots, marked the course of (the
fiery tempests. The roads were cumbered with roasted cattle, and
frequently with the carcases of bears' and deer, while the .ditchee
and cleared fields were strewn with smaller game and wild birds.'
Nearing the vicinity sadder relics were found, for those who pene-
trated eastward through the wall of flame met equally fierce
flames in the clearest places. Remote dwellers on the highroads,
warned of tho great danger, with their families safely packed on
their great farm-wagons, made northward through the highways
for security; but the flames engulfed them in the heart of the
woods, and the fragments of stout vehicles, burned to the irons,
now strew the road hither from Marinette, the last town on the
Northern Wisconsin border. The highroad enters Peshtigo from
the north, through a break in the encircling belt of woods, where
the pretty Episcopal Church stood — the last to burn in the fatal
place. Even before this was reached, a putrid hecatomb of dead
cattle cumbered the wooded street. Among the pines, scores lay,
not burnt, but smothered to death. Through this undei brush
thirty bodies of men and children were picked up, more or less in
jured by fire. In a great many instances the human remains were
distinguished from animals by the teeth alone. One horror-stricken
relative recognized the relics of his nephew by a pen-knife im
bedded in an oblong mound of ashes. What does it avail to nar
rate circumstantially the inexpressible horrors of these succeeding

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 563
days. What good to tell of the dead faces staring upward through
the calm waters ; or the piteous circumstances of a hundred heart-
wrenclung tragedies during and following that treacherous Sunday
blast ? No moral underlies the terrible story ; all that frightened
human nature was capable of came into play that direful night ;
the slaughter resulted from no sin of omission or commission on
the part of man. , No unseemly panic aided natural causes in
achievingj: comparatively, :the cbmpletest devastation' in human
-annals. ^On/ffieYcohtrary, superhuman daring and: energy ..were
Sgiy,,;-^/" -¦Svjv-j^-fe-.i^ijy, jv, r„. ¦'-.-.,*• ¦i. ° ¦,;.;¦:..*! .""'¦"¦"
Fpttt into" 'ai^ve^operatibn.toicdtigatepreternatm-al horrors. (JEhe
|. _r'_,'-y-y'y-'s:[-i-'3fc'%&rt:j^u^--. 'V'-- - *' !'": '^f"- • -- . - ' '•'--" .<o- t.p
|%nmerisity^;arij^lexlestraction kt Chicago "surpasses the complete-
-.n^^of.^thiff'aevast^ its woes, has. not
two-thirds' of its "citizens to deplore as dead. ¦..,-..•¦-..
'"'With one of the men who passed through that night of destruc
tion, I wandered over the pretty rising plain where Peshtigo
spread its thriving stores and handsome houses. Save where the
houses were built with cellars, which was veiy rare, there is no
trace of a former habitation. Here and there are metallic rem-
nants of sewing-machines and cracked" stoves. The hardware and '
drug stores leave almost the only reminders of things that were, — .
a blackened mortar stands idly in a wild confusion of melted glass
and lead, with the pestle ready for a new decoction.
Two or three men with troubled faces were moving about put
ting up a shed for the Relief Committee. They answered civilly and
sadly that they had been in the fire, but saved themselves and
nearest kin. They should have starved to death if the outside
world had not stepped in, and now hoped to be shortly on their
feet again. They despaired of the bright cheery little town ever
being again as it was, but complacently " reckoned," if the scared
ones didn't drive newcomers away by their silly stories, a new
people would make a new Peshtigo. If you ever walked over
the ground where a camp had been burned, and there are few
tha. served during the war that have not, ' ou found there as much

564 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIEES
semblance of a substantial city as now marks the spot where
Peshtigo's 2,000 people carried on the business of life a few days
ago. On the bank of the river fish killed by the lusting flame are
still to be seen, which the day after the fire were soft and white
and unwounded. Crossing the frail remnants of the bridge on
timbers charred and fragile, my neighbor said, " It was as like the
Judgment Day as I can imagine. Friend Hansen, with his wife
and four children, believed firmly that it was, and while the fire
rained down he began to walk composedly up and down his parlor
with his family about hun, and I have never seen him since." tiki
The material loss is estimated >at"i$3,000,000, the greater part
of wliich falls on William B. Ogden, who suffered simultaneously
greater losses in Chicago. But undaimted by his accumulating
misfortunes, that energetic man instantly sent an agent on to re
build the miils and shops, and gather a new people in the place
if possible. There are 400 dead authentically accounted for there,
besides half as many missing who cannot be accounted for, and
probably never will be. Many of the mill hands and company's
employes were utter strangers in the place, and the majority of
them, something like 100, trusting to the stout walls of the com
pany's building, perished en masse.
It is a significant fact, as showing the character of one of Chi
cago's noblest and most valued citizens, that, in the midst of his
immense misfortunes, and his extended and complicated business
responsibilities, Hon. William B. Ogden could lay aside all theso
for the sake of writing the following letter, in the hope of assist
ing in the recovery of the lost child of one of his Peshtigo
people : —
To the Editor of The Chicago Tribune :
Dear Sir: — Frank Jacobs, a Hungarian of Kossuth's party,
and now about eighteen years in Peshtigo, escaped, witli his wife,
the death that overtook so many on the night of the dreadful fire

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 565
here ; but his wife's sister, Miss Charlotte Seymour, who left his
house in advance of him, taking his only child, was drowned in
the Peshtigo River, and the child, a little boy about two and a
half years old, has been missing since.
The boy's name was Frank, and they called him " Frankie."
It was reported that some one who saw Miss Seymour go down
between the logs she was clinging to, failed to save her, but did
, seize and save the child; and that it with a great many others
^yas taken totMenomonee on the morning after the fire, and there

Itbbk the BteamCTjfor Green Bay. r§?*T* ? - -:, '., : : ,j/fj'#fe«

i"

MrsiJ Johii ^e;Ma^/of^e8htigo, tells Mr. Jacobs that she saw
e child onthe-steamerjOn its way -to Green 'Bay, in the care of
TBomerkmd gentleman passenger on his way to Chicago, who askeid;
when she told him that she knew the child, and whose it was, if
its parents were still living. •* She did not tlien know whether they
were or not, and very likely left him with the impression, at that
time of great distress and confusion, that they were probably not
living, as she had not seen them since the fire.
The gentleman caring for the child Eaid to her that he should
take it to Green Bay, and to Chicago, if he did not find its pa
rents, and should take care of it until he did find them. Mrs.
De Marsh does not know who this gentleman was, but if she is
not mistaken it would seem that the child was saved and is still
alive. The object of this letter is to ask, if admissible, that The Tri
bune publish these facts, in the hope that the child may be foimd
thereby, and his very distressed parents relieved from their pain
ful state of uncertainty and suspense about their boy and only child.
The child was perhaps two and a half years old ; has light-
brown hair and blue eyes. The only word he spoke plainly, his
parents say, was " lice," the name he gave to a favorite uncle ;
and ii: asked " Where Ike is ? " he will show, his parents think, an
interest, and that he understands the meaning.

566 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
Franlde wore on the night of the fire a black and white checked
flannel shirt, a red flannel dress, and red, brown, and white
checked apron, with a band of purple and white check.
In the hope that this child may have escaped death on that.
fearful nisrht, and that this statement of the circumstances of the
case, as related to me, may lead to his discovery and return to his
unhappy parents, I remain, dear sir, with great respect, very
truly yours, , . *.
... .._ij.. ;,"._.<«_. ......IW.'JB.: Ofsam-X-n
.: ;j.;^ii_fe;¥i''>-''ft^;-»k.4i»?.r£- li.x'.i&H:
A citizen of Green Bay whoy passed .through -the fire" at
Peshtigo, who saved himself and a woman and children he hap- -
pened to meet, by getting on a low spot of ground or in a ditcl^.
and covering over with wet blankets, tells this story : — They had
got well covered up in this burrow, when a half-frantic woman
rushed along with a great bundle in her arms. She had been
well dressed, but her clothes were half bm-ned off. She stopped
and deposited her bundle, which consisted of a child and a lot
of clothing, and then shrieked, "Great God, where is my
baby!" At this the narrator sprang up, and saw, a few rods off, a baby
in its night-clothes, lying on the road and kicking up its heels
in great glee, while a billow of flame rolled over it, striking
the ground beyond and leaving the baby in the centre of a
great arch of fire.
The baby had slid out of the bundle, unperceived by the mother
in her haste. He immediately sprang for the child, and with
difficulty rescued it. It is no wonder that the mother fainted
when she secured the child.
Wal. Heath was one of the proprietors of the Peshtigo House.
When the fire occurred, his family, with the girls employed
in the house, escaped from the hotel by a team, and wero saved
on the low land below Ellis's house. Heath got into tho rivei

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 567
on tho west side of the bridge and clung to the centre pier of
the bridge. The wind blew the fire from the hotel to where
he was. The hotel was near the south end of the bridge and
on the west side of the street. At the north end of the bridge
and east end of the street was the Peshtigo Company's water
mill, and the flames from that also blew directly to his po
sition. Thus it seems that the wind on the two sides of the
anver iblewJ;insexactly?opposite ^directions. Heatli was ;saved"
pPOm^epfectHithat' being 'ion the ..west side ,bf J/thetpier^the^
Ifiamef £r6nrthe twttlerfitjfll* divided at the pier and parted 'him
^Kb^^aw|i%^^iid^'tteh^t^^fire, 'he dared not ' swimr
^r with the current^ hutj^wheri the fire on the bridge had got
fortably close, he took off his'coat/pidled off his boots,"arid
. swam, up stream to a place of safety. -•" He had a very narrow
escape from death, and has not yet recovered from breathing the
hot air and smoke. < ,.,,..'"
He tells us that the most vivid imagination cannot picture the
scene of the calamity as bad as it actually was. In his opinion as
many as 1,000 people lost their lives on the Peshtigo ; that 752
bodies have been buried, and that many were entirely burned up.
The names of half the dead will never be known. They are
buried all over Peshtigo, and the boards that mark their graves
are marked " 2 unknown," " 3 unknown," etc.
Much has been said of the intense heat of the fires which de
stroyed Peshtigo, Menekaimee, Williamsonville, etc., but all that
has been said cannot give the stranger even a faint conception of
the reality. The heat has been compared to that engendered by
a fiame concentrated on an object by a blow-pipe, but even that
would not account for some of the phenomena. For instance, we
have in our possession a copper cent, taken from the pocket of a
dead man in the- Peshtigo Sugar Bush, which will illustrate our
point. This cent has been partially fused, but still retains its
round form, and the inscription upon it is legible. Others in the

568 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
same pocket were partially melted off, and yet the clothing and.
the body of the man was not even singed. We do not know how:
to account for this, unless, as is asserted by some, the tornado and
fire were accompanied by electrical phenomena.
The house, barn, and fences of Mr. Hill, of tho upper Sugar.
Bush, were burned, and Mr. Hill and his family all lost. By the.
side of the family was a narrow alley, just wide enough to drive.
through. In this alley stood a wagon, and while the barn and;
fence were entirely destroyed, the wagon box was not even.singed.i
Alf. Phillip's house, in the upper, Sugar Bush, was destroyed,!
but the family escaped. They state that two opposite, current^ of -
air apparently struck the house, which was 16 by 24. feet, and:
carried it bodily into the air, they think about 100 feet. . In the
air it buret into flames, and in a few minutes was entirely des
troyed. The house was not on fire when it left the ground.
We do not believe that any other explanation of the great calam
ity can be made than that it was caused by fire, wind, and
electricity. Another correspondent says : —
The story of the Wisconsin fires has never yet been told, and
from the suddenness of the calamity and the intensity of the clouds
of fire, its fullest extent can never be known. From Mr. J. Har
ris, chief messenger of the House of Representatives, who was an
eye-witness of the fury of the flames on the fatal Sunday night of
the 8th of October, and who has just returned from Green Bay,
Wis., we are enabled to give to the public a statement of the num
ber of the families who were totally swept away in that terrible
holocaust of fire.
In the towns of Brussels, Union, Nasewaupee, and Gardner, in
Door county, on the cast shore of Green Bay, six families, num
bering forty persons, were burnt to death ; also, thirteen other
families, of from two to four in each family. In these four towns
in Door county, the total is 117 persons bm-ned to death, besides a

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 569
large number severely and slightly burned, and there arc 167
families rendered homeless, with loss of all they possessed.
In the town of Peshtigo, in Oconto county, on the west shore of
Green Bay, twenty-five families, numbering 157 persons, were
burnt to death ; also forty-six other families, of from two to four
in each family. At Peshtigo, including the upper, middle and
lower Sugar Bush farming settlements, the number of bodies iden
tified and buried was, at the last account, 530, .while.the number.

hTheforesib&^Statements Apply only to Door and Oconto, cbun-
_aflftft_?r^j^K4>ii_J_i¥i/»'___i;___. fVna '_1_»__Km_»+ir_rv rvf '.lrFo-tm/l Tkiwrtp-r+ir rn

sff£dr^d6*T_i0t^ihclade the destruction f of 'life and property in
fKe\^^^^^'Brc^'%initi«,'fr6m which only partial lists of
^he losses have as yet been gathered up ; but the loss of life there
'is said to exceed One hundred, and there must be many hundreds
Of destitute persons to provide for. ' ¦• -._:-: -i.i :. ¦
Many persons express smpriso that so many human beings per
ished in the flames, and ask, " Why could they not escape ? " Mr.
Harris, who resides in that part of Wisconsin 6wept by the fire,
explains this by showing on the map that the Sugar Bush settle
ments, where the greatest loss of life occurred, were located in the
dense forests, entirely surrounded by timber of large growth, and
are situate from three to five miles away from the Peshtigo river,
which was the only chance for escape. The fiery tornado came
upon these people with such fury, and so suddenly, that there was
no escape, and this fact accounts for so many families being swept
away. The same holds good for the frightful loss of life at Wil
liamson's Mill, in the town of Gardner, in Door county, near Stur
geon bay, where the sawmill and other buildings, witli about sev
enty men, women and eliildren, were located in the woods, sur
rounded by the dense hemlock forest, through which there was but
one road, and that choked up with de'bris from the shingle-mill of
the most combustible kind, leaving no chance for escape when the

570 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIEES
tornado struck them, as is shown by the horrible fact that, of th6
seventy persons hemmed in there by walls of &e,, sixty^one^ in
cluding the Williamson family, were burned to death. The vil
lage of Peshtigo being built on both sides of the Peshtigo > river,
the latter afforded means of escape to several hundred of" the in
habitants, of whom, but for that opportunity, numbers more would
have perished. So, too, at the village of nMenekapneisthe whole
place, including the. splendid new^pa.v
Co., just built at a cost oJ^i0iaoSi
an hour ; but being located on -theT>

habitants all escaped by taffig'lipteain,
craft, and no lives were lost. «Our informant
¦  >:, "ysyy- %% 
Menekaune on the night of the fire.-^He/^
the fire, and subsequently the other burned towns on. both ad<
of Green Bay, and says that no pen can describe what he saw. «p
that fatal night, nor can tongue tell of the smfeiings.of the hun
dreds who perished in the flames, or of the thousands who escaped.
In going through the burnt towns back in the woodsjand witness
ing the wide-spread desolation, the wonder is that so many escaped
alive, and many of those who did escape were saved by throwing
dirt on each other to keep from burning.
Another reason for the great destruction of life and properly in
Wisconsin, is found in the fact that no rain had fallen for three
months before the 8th of October ; the clearings, and the woods,
and even the swamps, were as dry as tinder, and the people had
been fighting the fires in the woods for several weeks before ; all
that part of Wisconsin was full of fire and smoke, and when the
tornado came upon them it swept all before it, travelling faster
than the people, who were struck down while running for a place
of safety. The intensity of the fire maybe gathered from the
statement made by Mr. Harris, that when he was at Peshtigo,
after tho fire, his attention was called to a mass of ashes at the
spot where was the kitchen of the large boarding-house. It

TN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 571
appears that before the flames reached that house numbers of
people fled there for safety. It is said that the kitchen was
full of people, and that an immense sheet of flame struck the
house so suddenly that none are known to have escaped. All that
remains is a pile of human ashes, from which can be picked out
pieces of human bones, the largest not two inches long, and these
split and broken. The village of Peshtigo, with its saw-mills,
.factories, hotels, churches, school-houses, stores, and fine residences,
mere all in James in half an hour, and the whole is swept clean, as
"^^ soon as^daylight came on the 'Monday morning afte^4j_hevfire
Tirything'T^lfdoheithatf could be^donefor the sufferera!by,the
i- >yt<y &«,;., .^'i?1 "¦ - i' -. , y ' '" ' v* '¦''
ifw surgeons .living there/but to add to' the anguish of the hour
.the telegraph poles were burnt down, and they were sixty miles
'from Green !Bay City, the nearest telegraph station in operation.
; The Lake Superior steamers not running a boat on Monday, it was
•Tuesday forenoon before despatches could be sent away for help.
Mr. Harris sent despatches by that boat to Governor Fairchild and
to the Mayors of the cities of Green Bay, Oshkosh, Fond du Lac,
and Milwaukee, calling for medical aid and supplies for the sur
vivors, but the despatches did not reach those gentlemen until
Tuesday night, and it was Wednesday noon before the surgeons
and nurses and supplies arrived, and it was near the end of the
week before the outside world knew the extent of the calamity
and the sufferings of the people of Wisconsin.
The great calamity at Chicago was known wherever the wires
penetrated by the Monday night, while the fires were yet burning ;
and towns, and cities, and States vied with each other in forward
ing instant relief of all kinds to the sufferere, while to Wisconsin's
fearful and greater sacrifice of human life was superadded the
loss of the telegraph : the loss of which prevented a large amount
of relief beino- forwarded to Wisconsin, so much needed by her
suffering people. Large amounts of money were instantly raised

572 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
for tho relief of Chicago by benevolent and wealthy individuals,
by corporations, and by cities and legislatures, a portion of wliich
would doubtless have been given to Wisconsin had her calamity
in all its f earf ulness been known earlier throughout the country.
Chicago will need all that is being poured into her lap; but
while this generosity is flowing in upon her, do not let the suffer
ings of Wisconsin be forgotten. - .
Governor Fairchild has visited the burnt towns on Green Bayr|
and gathered up the facts of the condition of .the ^ifferers^andS
6ays that all are now supplied with food ahd'dothing^but.-thatj
from 3,000 to 4,000 people will have .to .be housedahd fediforithel
. ... . ., ,"V.^.-.v-'f.'V.-'''' -: _ .""g^fe.* "ifCV» j. " " 4tS
next six to mne months^ until they can get back on mem'ranr^
and raise the next year's crop. ;.r While the supply' of food and!
clothing forwarded to Wisconsin has been generous and ample^
the amount of cash funds in the hands of the Relief Committees .«
will be wholly inadequate to meet the demands made upon them., \
Further contributions of money will be needed to feed these
people, to rebuild their houses and furnish them with farming
tools, furniture, seed, and feed for the cattle saved from the
flames ; and looking to what has already been done for these
suffering people by the outburst of American generosity, we have
full faith that it will be as generously continued until the afflicted
are able to help themselves.
What a period of terror and destruction for the North-west,
unparalleled in om* history, and quite unexampled in the annals
of time, if wo consider the brevity of its duration and the im
mense losses of property and life !
While our blinded eyes witnessed the destruction of our homes
and business in tho Garden City, the same heart-breaking scenes
were transpiring in other places on either sido of Lake Michigan,
in Indiana, and Ontario. There was a carnival of death. A
Chicago man, who lost heavily, had a small farm in Michigan, and
there were his wife and son. The forest igniting, fire drove

A WISCONSIN HOUSE ENVELOPED IN ^LAMES.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 575
through his beautiful timber land, roared around his dwelling,
almost compelling the desertion of all to the flames. It was
6aved only by heroic exertions, and the farm was a waste. It
seemed as if sorrows were never to cease, and yet he held up his
head like a Christian hero, trusting in God the good provider.
More fortunate he than thousands whose all was stripped from
them as the autumn winds disrobe the trees. like these, thanks
to God, the miserable victims will put forth life and vigor, and
yet stretch out their thriving beaufy to -Heaven, and bask in the
^summer of His mercy who heals and restores whom He has
^smitten. The accounts of whole regions smoking like a volcano
iare not exaggerated, as no pen can fitly describe the occurrences
of that memorable week from October 7th to the 14th.

33

576 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES

SUMMARY OF WISCONSIN LOSSES.

CHAPTER XL.
"After making a deduction for exaggeration, I supposed
that 500 would cover the number of the dead on the west side
of the Bay. I now learn from reliable sources that the actual
number of interments up to Monday night counted up to 504.
Add another hundred for remains of ashes and charred bones at
Peshtego, and I think we have not far from the true number
on the west side. Add one hundred and fifty for the east side
— making 750 in all — and the death roll is nearly complete.
" It is impossible to figure the aggregate losses of pine timber
and farm property with any degree of closeness. It is to the
interest of mill-men to underrate the amount of fallen pine that
must be secured this winter to save it. A medium estimate
of damage to pine lands in the Green Bay region is $400,000.
The damage on the Wolf is figured at $300,000. The loss of the
fifteen saw-mills burned is put at $225,000. The loss of cord-
wood, ties, hemlock bark, etc., is set at §200,000. The loss
of fences, buildings, wagons, cattle, crops, among the six hun
dred farm ere cannot be less than $600,000 — making a total aggre
gate of more than $3,000,000, aside from those at Peshtego.
"The country through from Brown county north to Big Stur>
geon Bay, for four hundred square miles, is utterly devastated.
At least four hundred farms in this tornado section alone are left

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 577
desolate — stripped of every improvement. Fences, bams, dwell
ings, implements, furniture, wagons, harness, and crops, all went
up in a whirlwind of fire. It will take thirty years in that cold,
hard soil, for their timber to grow again. In the aggregate, their
losses must foot up to one thousand dollars a family. Farmers
here have saved half of their teams, that were let loose in tho
;woods, and a third of their stock. But they have no hay, straw,
..grain, or feed of any sort— riot even the poor chance of browse in
fthe woods.; Nearly all,' with large families, have lost then; last
'isbw and pig.r tin a'ride of six miles, on nearly a straight line, I
saw bat.three hens and a fanning-mill— the only farm implement
jleft in the town." : In the Belgian fsettlement, on Red River,
.sixty-two families were burned. out in a row ! Not a hduse, hot a
shed, not a coop — not one fence rail left upon another. The
families had fled, almost naked and breathless, to the few cabins
on the outskirts that were saved.
" There are three hundred, or more, wounded sufferers remain
ing in hotels, boarding-houses, and hospitals about the Bay.
Fifty of the Peshtego sufferere were at the Dnnlap House,
Marinette. Half of them were able to be about. Burned ears,
faces, hands, and feet were common to nearly all. Many in
rooms could hardly stir in bed. There were women with great
burns on the sides and limbs, with faces like kettles, and hands
like claws, burned to the bones.
" Men could fight better, and dare more than women. Most
of them perished by suffocation. Little children are sadly maimed
in their feet and faces. I saw one with a heel gone, and another
with an eye. Nearly all will recover without loss of sight or
limb. I could fill a book with stories of the hospital. Most of
them suffer more from hurts of mind than body. I have a sad
memory of a poor widow who lost her crippled boy who went on
crutches, and a sprightly little girl who fell between the burning
lo<re. They were all of her family. ' The screams of both,' she

578 HISTORY OF THE GEEAT FIRES
said, ' seemed forever sounding in her eare.' There is a future,
and, no doubt, compensations for all these suffering ones.
" Most of these cabins that are left are crowded with two and
three families each. I saw one with four men, five women, and
sixteen children — two of them suckers. They had just received
an outfit of clothing — warm stockings, knit hoods, thin shawls,
thin gaiters, and light-colored dresses for the women and girls ;
odd-fashioned hats, bursted boots, thin jackets, and summer coats
and pants for the men and boys. There were some occasions of
laughter, but none of ridicule; all were glad and surprised at
getting what they did. I saw no immediate want of provisions.
Flour, pork, and hard bread are distributed to all, packages of tea
and coffee to most. There are nearly potatoes enough in the
country, if distributed. Their stock that is left has been driven
off to meadows and fields not burned over. One large-hearted old
farmer was keeping eighty odd cattle belonging to his unfortunate
neighbors. Without stopping to consider the ways of Providence,
or the uses of philosophy, these simple-minded people seem to
have understood the art of helping one another."
Captain W. R. Bourne, who has recently returned from a visit
to the Wolf River pineries, tells us that, in his opinion, the pine
damaged by the recent fires on the Wolf River and its tributaries
(the Shioe, Embarrass, and Red Rivers) will amount to 50,000,000
feet. If this pine is all cut the coming winter and got into the
streams, the damage to it will be about $1.00 per thousand feet ;
but if not cut the loss will be almost total, as it would be bored
by worms another season and destroyed for every purpose but
fencing. There is very little pine injured above Keshena. Thus
the lightest estimate of damage to the Wolf River pine is
$50,000. The pineries along the bay shore have suffered to a still greater-
extent, but the damage is easier repaired, provided the lumbermen
can raise the means to put into the river two or three years' stock

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 579
of logs, for a much greater amount of logs can be put into the
Menomonee, Oconto, and Peshtego Rivers, which are not navigable,
than into the Wolf, where they would interfere with navigation.
One lumbering firm down the bay estimate their loss at $50,000.
Lncile Mechand tells the story of the family's adventures in
thrilling words : —
On the morning of the 11th of October, just as we were sitting
down to take breakfast, Mr. Richardson, a neighbor of ours, came
^running into the house and told Mr. Mechand that he must come
-, ont immediately and see what could be done. During the night
fytne wind had risen, but not so greatly as to amount to anything
';like' a gale," but i rather did it resemble the ordinary fall wind. Mr.
Mechand did not seem at all uneasy, and leisurely swallowed his
breakfast before following Mr. Richardson, who had disappeared
as soon as he had stuck his head into the room and called my
husband. Mr. Mechand went into the woods and stayed till about
noon, when he came running back and said that he climbed up to
the top of Brown's Hill, where the wind was blowing a gale, and
from tliere had seen the fire, which was coming toward us at a
tremendous pace. Indeed, I had feared as much, and had been
exceedingly uneasy all the morning, for the smoke which for days
had been in the valley where we lived had become more and
more dense, and occasionally hot puffs of wind had blown
down over the hills, driving the smoke in a dense cloud before it.
I asked my husband if he thought there was any danger to be
feared ; he shook his head and answered, " No ; " yet I knew by
his face that he was far from being devoid of fear. He ate his
dinner hastily, and then ran ont again, and was met at the door
by a neighbor, who said that the fire was advancing with fright
ful speed. Indeed, the air had now become sultry as it never had
been before, except on some hot days in summer immediately be
fore the coming of a thunder-storm. The air was stifling, and
the smoke got into one's lungs and nostrils in such a way as to

580 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
render it exceedingly unpleasant. Mother sat in a corner holding
little Louis in her lap, and I noticed that she seemed restless, and
that her eyes shone with a light such as I have sometimes seen in
the eyes of a wild beast, and had only seen in hers in the old
davs when she was about to have an outburst of fury.
I was frightened and fidgety, and didn't do anything in the
ri"-ht way. I went and took the boy away from mother, who
relinquished him readily ; and then, as I had afterwards terrible
reason to remember, although I hardly noticed it at the time, she
went to the cupboard and secreted something in the bosom of her
dress. Mr. Mechand stood at the door speaking hurriedly with
the man whom he had met, when a burning branch of pine fell at
his feet. Instantly the air darkened, a violent puff of wind
rushed upon us, and smoke poured in volumes about the house.
Then, following the gust, a bright sheet, or rather wall, of fire
seemed to be pushed down almost upon us, and instantly every
thing was in flames. Mr. Mechand cried out to me to bring
Louis with me, and seized mother by the hand, and we all four
ran in terror out into the woods ahead of us. I ran on blinded
and choked by the smoke, and carrying Louis in my arms. He
was pale with terror, and did not utter a single cry, but clung
to my neck as I hurried on, stumbling and tripping almost at
every step. So suddenly had been the rush of the fire that we
had no cbance of saving anything but our lives, even if we had
cared to do so. I kept calling to my husband to keep in sight,
but, poor fellow, there was no need of doing so, for I could see
that mother was a great worry to him, and that he had almost to
drag her along. She kept looking from side to side, and trying to
break away from him ; even then I thought how terrible it would
be if she should become furious again. What on earth could we
do with her.
Wo must have gone on this way for at least three miles, and I
was almost exhausted, for Louis was a boy six years old and large

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 581
for his age, and I had been carrying him all the way. The trees
were compact, and in some places the undergrowth was close and
stiff as wire. Mother kept getting worse, and Mr. Mechand, who
was a short distance ahead of Loui3 and me, had the greatest dif
ficulty to make her obey him. Presently he stopped, and evi
dently was waiting for me to come up. So I put Louis down and
told him to keep alongside of me, at the same time taking him
firmly by the hand. The fire had come much slower than we,
.and I believe we must have been at least two .miles ahead of ...
|!itj -although there was no tellings for I could see nothing behind
y or far before me but smoke curling like a mist in. and. out of ,
the trees. Behind us, indeed, it was heavier aud looked a sullen,
dirty white. ->r?*^ .-. ¦.-•' ..-. .- ,- .,..r &-t
We could not have been six feet from my husband when my
mother broke away from him, and with a loud cry darted off into
the woods, and then I knew that what I had dreaded had indeed
come to pass, and that excitement and danger had bought back
an old sickness upon her. She was a maniac. Mr. Mechand
darted after her, and in the terror of the moment I forgot all else,
and I followed him, leaving poor little Louis behind. I must
have been crazy to do so, but on I rushed, and soon saw that
mother was cunning enough to attempt to escape by doubling on
her tracks, for I saw her dress dart past the bushes at my side as
she ran diagonally away frjm me. I sprang after her, and after
running for about five minutes found to my horror that I had not
only lost her, but Louis and his father. Madly I tried to retrace
my steps, but there was nothing to guide me — no path, no blazes
on the trees. The wind shook the trees and almost bent them
double; the sultry air filled with smoke, and all the horrors of
my terrible condition made me frantic. I rushed about help
lessly, crying and screaming, " Louis ! " " Louis ! " " Father ! "
But that last word made me calm for an instant, and I felt that I
was not alone — not utterly lost in the burning woods, for the

582 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
spirit of my dead father was near, and there were guardian
angels. I knelt on the ground, took my crucifix from my neck,
and prayed. In kneeling down I found to my great joy that my
dress was wet. I had knelt near a spring. I bathed my face
and hands, and soaked my hair and the upper part of my dress.
But then my boy — my little Louis ! I sprang to my feet, and
calling on the Yirgiu to direct me, dashed on in the direction of
the fire. I had not gone more than a quarter of a mile when I
found my darling standing with head erect, and flashing eyes
filled with angry tears, trying to beat away some wolves, which, :
hungry though they were, seemed bent only on flight. I cried,
"Louis, Louis, c'est moi, ta mere!" and clasped him to my
heart. It was my boy, and he was saved. He had not seen his
father, though once he had heard a man's voice calling, but the
voice seemed to have come from an immense distance. " Oh,
Louis," said I, " we are lost unless we find him. We must run
for our lives." ' The boy began to cry, and then I was ashamed
of what I had said, and tried to cheer him up. The fire must
have been very near us then, for I could not only feel its heated
breath, but above my head, among the tree-tops, sparks and fire
brands were whirling in the air. I took Louis in my arms, de
termined that never again should he be separated from me, and
pressed onward with some vague idea that I should soon reach
Wolf River.
Night was coming on, and since noon we had had nothing to
eat. I did not feel hungry, but was tormented with thoughts of
what might happen if we should not soon reach a place of safety;
for I feared that Louis would give out, and that was one of the
reasons which made me carry him. My arms ached, and my
limbs were scratched, bruised, and bleeding. Still I made good
headway, and soon came to a natural clearing, on the thither side
of which we sat down to rest. By this time night had come out,
and what a night 1 No moon, no stars ; but the cloudy heavens

IN CHICAGO AND HIE WEST. 583
lighted up afar with the horrible fires of the burning woods. The
clearing in which we sat was the dried-np bed of a stream which,
for some unaccountable reason, had no thickly-wooded shores, and
we were at least two hundred feet from the edge of the forest in
flames. All this time Louis, manly little fellow that he was, had
not even asked for food ; nor had he cried since I myself foolishly
frightened him.
We sat there a long time while I was trying to think where
we were, but I could come .to no conclusion. I had heard my
'husband speak of a stream which had run dry, but that was in a
^northeasterly direction from our house ; and' notwithstanding the
'fact that I was lost, yet I had a'gcneral notion I was approaching
Wolf River. The stars could give me no information, for I could
not see them. What to do I scarcely knew ; but when the- heat
of the fire became such that I could not doubt that it was near I
determined to press on away from it, and taking Louis's hand I
set out. On ordinary nights it should now have been dark ; but
there was a nameless glare, yet not a glare, a horrible reflet which
came down from the sky and mingled with the smoke. Hardly
had I risen from the ground when in the direction of the woods
on the other side of the clearing, I heard a clashing noise, a min
gled gnashing and hoarse barking, which I instantly recognized
as that of wolves, and I scarcely had time to snatch up Louis and
run behind a magnificent pine tree, whose trunk was at least six
feet in diameter, before I heard them scrambling up the side of
the hill and felt them rush by me. I looked out and could see
their eyes coming toward me like the wind. They did not stop
for an instant; and when they passed there came in their track
a herd of deer, uttering cries that seemed almost human in then-
intense agony. They ran blindly, for something more terrible
than wolves was behind them ; they struck the tree and were
hurled back by the shock, some of them falling back upon those
below. The stampede seemed to last for full ten minutes ; and

584 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
when it was over, and I, trembling with fear, dared once more to
emerge from my refuge and look across the clearing, I saw the
woods at its edge already burning — saw it lurid through the
smoke and felt its terrible heat upon my face. I turned and fled,
in the wake of the deer and the wolves. My shoes were stripped
from my feet, and my ankles were torn and bloody. Fallen trees
lav in my way, but I clambered over and crawled under them in
my desperate fight. I was agonized with terror and despair, and
finally sank to the ground. with my boy in my arms. ; : v'
I must have fainted, for I knew nothing of what passed till I :>.
was rudely shaken by the shoulder, and heard a wild, gibbering
laugh. I opened my eyes, and above me stood my mother with
a drawn knife in her hand. The woods seemed all ablaze, although
the air was not so intolerably hot as it had been. The forest
beyond the clearing must have been burning at its edge, and the
strong wind carrying the smoke upward and above our heads.
My mother looked down upon me with eyes blazing with that
hated light of insanity.
" Ho, ho ! " said she, " fine time of night for a mother and
child to be running through the woods ! Fine night this ! Night —
it is day ! Look at the red light — 'tis the light of dawn ! Le
jour ! le jour du jngement est arrive ! And the rocks are burn
ing ! Call upon them to fall upon you ! The clouds of thunder
and the day of doom ! The Lord is corning, and the wheels of
his chariot burn with his mighty driving. Let us go up to meet
him in mid-air. Let us ride on the smoke and thunder, and
sweep the stars from the heavens. Come, you shall go with me ! "
And she seized Louis, who had thrown himself upon me, and was
clinging in terror to my breast.
I sprang to my feet and cried, "Mother, mother,. what would
yon do — would you kill me and Louis ? "
" Kill you ! yes ! why wait ? The Lord calls and the devil
drives. He has let loose his imps against the world. The trees

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 585
fall crashing in the forest; for all hell's demons pull them down
with hooks of fire. I have seen them as I followed you. I have
seen you all the way. I rode over on a wolf; 'twas a loup-garou,
an old friend of mine, brought me over safely, and kept me from
the deer. I will kill you ; would you burn to death? Ton shall
go up — up higher than the moon, and beyond the fire. Come,
let us go ! " and again she seized Louis while the knife gleamed
: in the air. ,
,.£.¦>_ - -. - - - ¦
•¦4, 9I sprang at her, and with all the strength of ten mothers in my
iairins/tl straggled 'with her. t - TornJ worn, and bleeding, as I was,
| the thought of my child and my hnsband gave me the strength
/.of a giarit.^T overpowered the mad woman, and forgetting that
she was : my mother— that she was anything but the would-be
murderess of my boy— I seized her by the throat when she was
down rolling on the ground, and I would have strangled her.
Her insanity had almost made me mad. I felt then what a mur
derous maniac feels.
But then I thought my mother was lying almost dead and
powerless, and the fire would soon advance and perhaps over
whelm us all. My hand was stayed, and when my mother rose
to her feet, all of her wildness was gone, and in its place had re
turned that calmness — almost imbecility — which had character
ized her for the last few years. She was ready and willing to do
everything that I told her, but I kept that knife fast in my hand.
The wind had fallen, and a slight rain was dropping among the
leaves overhead, as we went on for an hour or two longer, and
then, overpowered with exhaustion, and no longer greatly dread
ing the fire, we lay down in a hollow and fell asleep. When we
awoke, it was morning. I was sick and completely exhausted,
and hardly knew that there were men around us. Tet there
were, and good, kind men, too, who gave us food and drove us
to a place of shelter, whence, as soon as we were able, we went
to Green Bay, where I soon recovered from tho sickness and

586 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIEES
terror of that dreadful night. My mother continues in that same
state of imbecility which the doctor says will soon become com
plete dementia. Louis was not long in recovering, but as yet I
have heard nothing from my husband. Lhcile Mechand.
The Boston Relief Committee speak as follows of the work of
charity and of ruin : —
In this State, as in Michigan, the work of relief is done by two
distinct committees, appointed by Governor Fairchild, one at :
Milwaukee and the other at Green Bay. 'Jt.
We visited the committee at Green Bay, who were in full com
munication with the committee at Milwaukee. The Green Bay
committee consists of six gentlemen, with W.-R. Bourne as pres
ident. In general, it may be said that the region burned embraces the
lower half of the peninsula between Green Bay and Lake
Michigan on the one side and the region on the west side of
Green Bay, which extends northward from the Oconto River
across the Menomonee River into the upper peninsula of Michi
gan. The Lake Michigan coast of the peninsula, as far south as
Manitowoc County, and the upper peninsula of Michigan, are
under the charge of the relief committee at Milwaukee.
Abundant supplies have poured into the Milwaukee committee,
so that nothing further is needed by them, as we were informed
by the Green Bay committee, who have received a portion of
their surplus.
The remainder of the burnt territory, which is situated on both
sides of Green Bay, is under the care of the relief committee at
the city of Green Bay. The peninsula was inhabited principally
by Belgians engaged in farming, which was their only resource,
although near the coast were some small towns engaged in the
lumber business.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 58T
The fires had been burning here as in Michigan for weeks,
when on that fatal Sunday night the gale, increasing to tornadoes,
swept in currents for one or two hundred miles across farms and
villages with fearful destruction of life and property. The whole
population of the peninsula was twelve thousand, out of which at
least four hundred perished. In the little village of Williamsonville
seventy-four out of seventy-eight persons were destroyed. The
committee has on its books the names of about four thousand
tJ'f. ; > .'"' ' 'r- ."' ' ¦ ; - . - ' -' ¦ 1 '
s persons who are utterly destitute, who must receive aid until the
.next harvest. -%^^£vZ?/Z.Z .^(S^
.;$. The committee informed us that a" sufficient supply of general
V5T1""' ' ' .. ' >' ' . ''.vv-- -.--i't. ., - .... .?~. '*•'•
clothing has been received, but more is greatly needed of some
articles to be hereafter specified. Money is, however, the great
want, as much that is both of immediate and future need can only
or much more profitably be obtained there.
We visited Peshtigo, on the west shore of Green Bay, where
the greatest loss of life occurred. The town of Peshtigo, which
has been largely built through the intelligence and capital of the
Hon. William B. Ogden, was declared by all to have been the
best built, most prosperous and happy town 'in all that region. It
had a population of at least 1,700 in the town itself, and about
1,000 more in the "sugar-bush," or farming region outside.
The origin and progress of the fire is similar to that described in
other places, but the devastation was far more complete. In less
than ten minutes after the first alarm, which was at nine o'clock,
Sunday evening, October 8, the town was enveloped in flames.
The people came rushing in from the neighboring farms wild
with fright, followed by cattle and horses in a confused rout. The
aroused inhabitants ran from their houses and their beds, and
attempted to fly before the tornado of smoke and fire, which not
only kindled into a fiame the houses, but filled the air with flying
bricks and timber. The inhabitants believed the last day had
come. The tornado swept in currents and eddies of fire, in which

588 HISTORY OF THE GEEAT FIRES
many were caught and smothered on the spot, while others with
great difficulty worked their way, some to the river and others to
an open field on one side of the town. The destruction was com
plete. Not a building remained except one half-finished frame
house, which had been seized, charred, and left. Hundreds re
mained through that fearful night along the banks of the river or
immersed in its waters awaiting the daylight. The scene the next
morning exceeds the power of description. Families which had
been separated in the fiery darkness sought their scattered mem
bers ; but hardly a family was left unbroken. The ground was
strewed with the charred bodies of men, women and children, and
animals. Outside of the town the devastation was nearly as complete —
buildings, fences and trees were thrown to the ground and
burned ; but three houses remained in the township. The exact
number of lives lost can never be known. It is variously esti
mated at from 600 to 1,000.
The inhabitants all asserted that there were currents of air on
fire. The atmosphere seemed saturated with inflammable gases
from the pitch-pine forests which had been burning for weeks.
The heat was far greater than that of any ordinary conflagration,
melting iron and bell-metal at a distance of many rods from any
burning buildings. The heaviest loss of property falls upon the
Peshtigo Lumber Company, who had here some of the best mills
in the world ; but the entire property of the inhabitants is swept
away, adding absolute destitution to their other afflictions. They
fled for refuge principally to Marinette and Peshtigo Bay, where
their immediate necessities were supplied. Most of these people
are determined to rebuild their homes in Peshtigo.
The men will find employment in the woods during the winter;
but youi- assistance is needed to render their families tolerably
comfortable in the shelters which, for the present, they must call
their homes. In regard to the distribution of the supplies which

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 589
we found most needed, we made arrangements with responsible
persons on the spot, who are intimately acquainted with all the
people ; so that you may be assured that they will he bestowed
with care and discrimination.
The destitution has been so generously provided for that, on the
1st of November, the authorities were able to publish the accom
panying reports : — • ,
S< Mr. George Godfrey, sent out as a special agent of our Relief
' Committee, returned from the north on Saturday, "and made the
following report of his trip and the 'progress of the work of Bup-
'plying the destitute with' the necessaries' of life :— "' ;' l$fek:K-.
^'J^. : 'H.f^P01_>".,n----; .• . y.,y.;£
•"'-•¦ Milwaukee," October 30, 1871. v
Chairman Milwaukee Relief Committee :
Dear Sir :-r-In accordance with your request I went north on the
propeller St. Joseph, on Wednesday, with some articles for the
relief of the sufferers by the late fire. Finding Mr. Wing, County
Clerk of Kewaunee County, at the boat, in charge of the goods
for Kewaunee, it was arranged that I should go on to Ahnepee,
which I did, arriving there on Thursday evening, when I trans
ferred my charge to the Relief Committee of Ahnepee, Mr. E.
Schwartz, Chairman.
On Friday morning, in compauy with Mr. Schwartz, I set out
to visit the burned district, and we spent the dajr in exploring the
region. The weather was severely cold and flakes of snow filled
the air. The timber land, much of it very valuable, had been
ravaged by previous fires, and looked very desolate ; but the path
way of the great fire, wliich swept up from the south on that
memorable Sunday night, presents a heart-sickening appearance.
From two to four or five miles wide in places, and extending north
and south indefinitely, so far as I could see, forests, fences, barns
and houses were swept away. Farming tools and household fur
niture, carried out into the fields, fared no better than those left in

590 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
the house. Pumps in the welk were burned off to the ground.
In many instances the wells are artesian, from which it is impos
sible to get water without pumps. Large quantities of live stock
were burned to death. Of the loss of life the public is generally
informed. In one spot in the town of Brussels some thirty-six
persons were found and buried. Other more isolated instances
were discovered ; in one place three or four children were found
on their hands and knees, with their heads against a large stump, 1
dead in this position. In most instances the victims had apparel
cntly died without a struggle, probably killed outright by .thJ3
first hot breath which they inhaled. In all probably one hundrecy[
persons have perished in the towns of Lincoln, Brussels, and Fo?j|
estville. I have the names of some thirty-four families in thej
town of Lincoln, aggregating some one hundred and seventy per-j
sons — men, women, and children — who survive, but in a homeless J
and destitute condition. In the town of Forestville, and contigu- 1
ous to Ahnepee, and looking to that place for relief, are some
twelve families, aggregating about sixty persons. There is also a
portion of the town of Brussels which is easily reached from
Ahnepee, but I did not succeed in getting a list of the sufferers in
that locality.
On the county line between Door and Kewaunee Counties,
and between the towns of Lincoln and Brussels, goods were arriv
ing and were being stored in the barn of Eugene Naze, in the
town of Lincoln. These goods were from Green Bay, and were
consigned to Charles Mape. Some nine or ten wagon loads
arrived there on Friday, consisting chiefly of flour and provisions,
with some clothing. These, in addition to what was already in
store at that place, would go a good way to relieving the immedi
ate pressing necessities of the people.
In the way of food they are tolerably well supplied for the pres
ent. Of old cast-off' clothing there is a good store, but the cry is
for blankets, quilts, and bedding. Hay and feed for the surviv-

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 593
ing cattle are absolutely necessary. In order that the people may
help themselves they must preserve their cattle. There is no
grass nor " browse*" in the woods. Boards to cover the log cab
ins which they are now putting up, are indispensable ; stoves to
warm them and cook their food, are lacking ; these, with all their
utensils, must be supplied. Many of the inhabitants, astounded
and bewildered by the calamity, were about to flee from the coun
try ; but, upon learning that relief was coming, they have plucked
np courage and are going to work to repair,' as far as they can,
-¦- „y:!«. -"'•',''->.j «Wi'.s.'.''vy-r ' :-',?'j -•'!..¦ •
'the great damage, and get upon thefr feet -again. 'y The rational
' and best disposed of the community are doing all they can to
encourage them in this resolution, and, with the aid from outside
and their own endeavors, I have no doubt but in a few years
smiling plenty and peace will again dwell in that now stricken
land.
Headquarters Mixwadeee Relief Committee,")
Milwaukee, November 1, 1871. j
To a Benevolent Public :
Through the spontaneous liberality of a sympathizing people,
especially of our women, from Maine to San Francisco, we have
now on hand and in transit an ample supply of clothing of every
description for men, women, and children, to meet the wants of the
sufferers by the fires in Northern Wisconsin and the peninsula of
Michigan. Money is still greatly needed for purchasing pro
visions, building material, tools, and farming implements, horses,
oxen, cows, hay, feed, etc. The money may be sent to Alexander
Mitchell, Treasurer. H. Ludington, Mayor.
M. P. Jewett, Chairman.
J. R. Dutcher,
C. J. Kershaw,
Executive Committee.
34

594 history of the great fires

THE FIRES IN MICHIGAN.

CHAPTER XLL
y- -
On the opposite side of the lake the forest fires have apparently
been quite as bad. We are told that almost every county in.
Michigan has suffered from them. ; The lumbering town of
Manistee has been nearly consumed, two hundred and six build
ings having been burned on Sunday night, with a total loss of
over a million dollars. Holland, about twenty miles south of
Grand Haven, has been literally reduced to ashes, and the flames
seem to have eaten across the whole breadth of the State to the
foot of Lake Huron. The disaster, according to our present ad
vices, was most complete on the peninsula between Lake Huron
and Saginaw Bay. All that part of the State lying east of the
bay and north of a point forty miles above Port Huron has been
practically swept bare. This district, covering a region about
forty miles square, was the seat of an extensive lumber trade, and
all along the shores of the lake and bay were prosperous settle
ments, large and small, at which lumber was sawed, planed, stored,
and shipped, and depots maintained for the supply of the wood
men and other persons employed in the business. The flames,
approaching from the west and south, must have hemmed in these
villages and cut off all escape except by water. How many of
the luckless inhabitants were able to avail themselves of this
avenue of safety wo do not yet know. Two or three steamere

IN CTHCAGO AND THE WEST. 595
from Detroit have been cruising off shore to pick up the fugitives,
and about sixty have thus been rescued, some severely burnt, and
all destitute. At one place five children are kuown to have per
ished, and there is reason to fear that the worst has not been told.
Simultaneously the forests and prairies of Western and North
western Indiana have been on fire, and though there has been
no loss of life, so far as reports are yet atliand, the destruction of
the harvest has been enormous.
'/-v ' - ¦ " , ¦*•'-'¦' .. ... ..... , .... ,. ,, .
'.''"'' There is something more .awful in the-thdught of a burning
;-.'. -"'-.'•• ": ¦*.¦'. . „ . \''<r,'r.-ft^im^^^^^-p^i%\n^
¦¦ forest or a prairie in flames than even in a catastrophe such as that
i- which has fallen upon Chicagai'The most 'stupendous efforts of
.'- '""fi •"'-", , , .'°-w tt^'^^''''';{ 'iW!*Mt'ni,:
man seem hopeless 01 arresting a conflagration which rages un
ceasingly through two or three entire months, and sweeps in its
fierce wrath over thousands of square miles of territory. Nothing
checks such a visitation but the exhaustion of the combustible
material, or the blessed rain, which at last stayed the flames in the
woods of Michigan, just as it quenched the glowing cinders of
Chicago. The destruction of the great commercial city of Illinois
was a disaster of almost incalculable pecuniary magnitude, but it
will be repaired in a few years. The burning of the grand prime
val forests means far less to the banker and the tradesman ; but it
is a misfortune which can never be repaired.
October 11th, a correspondent telegraphed : —
The news from St. Clair and Huron counties of this date is of
the most distressing character. All that portion of the State east
of Saginaw Bay and north of a point forty miles above Port Hu
ron has been completely swept by fire. A number of persons
perished, and it is feared we have not heard the worst. The
flourishing villages of Forestville, White Rock, Elm Creek, Sand
Beach, and Huron City are entirely destroyed. Rock Falls and
Port Hope are partially destroyed. Nothing has yet been heard
from Port Austin or Port Crescent; but it is hardly possible
they escaped. At all these towns there were large stores, many

59G HISTORY OF TnE GREAT FIRES
of which were filled with winter stocks; extensive saw-mills,
shingle-mills, and docks covered with lumber, all of which have
been swept away. It is stated there is but one dock left on
the shore about Forestville. A steamer wbich left Port Huron
last night for the refief of the sufferers returned this evening with
about forty men, women, and children, five of whom are severely
bm-ned. The revenue cutter Fessenden, which started for Port
Austria, picked up a sail-boat on the lake, containing Isaac
Green, principal owner of Forestville, together with his family,
and eighteen or twenty others, who "had escaped the flames at
ForestviHe. The telegraph operator at ForestyiHe' escaped through
the fire back into the country.' All the telegraph, offices alopg
the shore have been destroyed, but communication wiU be ire-.
stored as soon as the damage done to the fines can be repair-fed;
Five children are known to have perished near Rock Falls. R. B.
Hubbard, at Huron City, shot aH his fine horees and cattle to
prevent their perishing by fire. He loses very heavily, having
had a large store, mills, docks, etc. The extensive property of
Stafford & Hayward, at Port Hope, is about the only establish
ment that escaped. $5,000 were subscribed to-night for the
relief of the sufferere of this State. The Hght rain of yesterday
seems to have greatly abated the fires throughout the State, and
it is believed the worst is passed. There is scarcely a county in
the State but has suffered more or less from fire, and the loss
will amount to nearly a milHon of doHars. The damage to the
pine land is incalculable.
The town of Bridgeport was saved from destruction by a
shower of rain yesterday morning. Charles Chandler's barns, on
his farm near Lansing, were burned yesterday, together with sev
eral fine horees.
The cutter Fessenden reached Port Huron this morning with
seventeen refugees from the lake shore, two of whom are fataUy
burned. Port Austin escaped the flames.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 597
A Mr. Brady, of Detroit, who was in the village of White Rock,
Huron County, when it was burned, says, that after vainly striv
ing to keep the fire out of the town, the inhabitants, hastily
gathering the few valuables that came nearest to hand, fled to the
most open places away from the houses, and, driven from these,
rqshed into the water itself, and even here were not safe from the
scorching effects of the heated air without occasional plunges^
beneath the surface, or frequent washings in the surf. Mr. Brady,
- wta in the water eight honi5riyjng,,part of. the- time on a,log,i
, over which the light surf dash
\ ^^ to. their wastei^-^ter^dhwd—f  
but'T^Hy'pWte'(^'d'by'their clotliing'fromjthe cmQ of the water:'N
which was their only security against the burning heat of the air.
The inhabitants, of course, saved almost riothihg.' ** Not only werej
their houses, fences, barns, and stocks destroyed, but ; their fumi- "
ture and clothing, and even the deeds' by which they held their'
lands, and their insurance papers. From their painful position in
the water they were released by the subsidence of the fires ; but
there was neither food nor shelter within nnles, and for many of
them naught but beggary apparently remained when shelter
should be found. The fire at White Rock occurred Sunday
night, and it was not until Monday afternoon that the sufferers
were taken off the shore by the steamer Huron, which took them
on board, and, coming down the shore, released from similar
straits others who had lived in Forestrille and Cato, which towns
were also burned on Sunday night. The steamer, after taking on
board as many as she could carry, left many for a second trip.
The sufferere were cared for by the citizens of Port Huron, and
the steamer went back for another load. Besides the towns
named it is supposed that Center Harbor and many other smaUer
vfllages were destroyed, and it is feared that the loss of life has
been considerable. The pecuniary loss at White Rock is more
than $250,000 ; that at Forestville is still greater.

598 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
A letter from Saginaw City reports that a large fire occurred
there on the night of the 8th inst., which destroyed the large steam
saw-mill, salt-blocks, and a number of houses adjoining, together
with a large quantity of lumber. The loss will not fall short of
$400,000. At latest reports the woods were all on fire in the vi
cinity of Saginaw, and the entire city was in danger. Business
had been suspended, and the entire population were doing every
thing in their power to save their property.
Between Saginaw and Birch Run the loss had been heavy;
many care had been burned and trains delayed. ' v . i. "¦ -"f.^-jy ''^¦/¦¦}-',
A letter from Port Huron, dated the 10th, 6ays :— M> ? :^y ' ~ ¦'*.;}
The fires are still raging on all sides of the city, and a fierce south
wind has been blowing for three days. Yesterday afternoon teams
were employed in carrying water to the south part of the city,
where the most danger was apprehended, and at a late hour last
evening the flames were very much checked. Between here and
Lexington fires are raging fearfully, and many of the telegraph
poles between this city and that place are destroyed. Along the
Grand Trunk Railroad, and the Port Huron and Lake~Michigan
Railroad large piles of wood are on fire, and the fences for miles
are consumed. Travelling is very much interfered with, and at
some places it is impossible to pass the roads.
Fires were also reported to be raging in every direction around
Lansing, and, on Sunday, the students of the Agricultural CoUege
were called upon to help fight the flames. They were divided into
squads, which relieved each other, and on Monday night the dan
ger was supposed to have passed.
A Detroit report says : —
A score or more of men, women, and children arrived in this city
yesterday by boat and rail from the up-country counties, and the
statements made by them in regard to the woods' fires are appall
ing. All of them have suffered the loss of every dollar of proper-

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 599
ty, and some of them show scars and bfistere to prove how closely
they were pursued by the fiames.
John Kent and wife were Hving about ten miles above Forest-
viUe and about five from the lake. He states, as do all the others,
that fires have been running in the woods for months, but have
traveUed more rapidly and have created greater destruction within
the last ten days than in all the time before. For weeks the smoke
in Sanilac and Huron counties has been so dense that women and
^chUdren have been made sick, and >every .human /being has been.
Ihalf blind Fowls were smotherd as long as three weeks ago, and.
rthe effect on cattle and horses was to; render.them unfit fpr;work.;y
Ijpdthough Kent had reason to apprehendidanger to himself, wife,.
!-and two children, he did as nearly every one else did,' stood by his
little property in the hope to preserve it. He had a considerable
.'clearing around his house, and imagined that the flames would not
: reach him. He had plenty of water near his house, and filled
barrels, tubs, crocks, and everything which would hold water, and
placed them where they would" be of service in extinguishing
sparks and cinders.
Friday last he could hear the roaring of the flames and the
falling of the trees from his house. At night the heavens were
rendered so light that he needed no lamp in the house. His dog
left him early Friday morning, and the house cat disappeared two
days before, the animals seeming to have a better knowledge of
the danger than the man. Towards noon the flames appeared on
the outskirts of Kent's farm. His children, two little girls, the
youngest not a year old, were left in the house, and husband and
wife repaired to the fire to try to beat it back. With anything
which would strike or smother they fought the advancing flames,
and for a distance of twenty rods kept them in check. But while
busy here, the flames crept over the dry gound from other direc
tions unheeded and neglected. Fighting with all their strength,
father and mother gave no heed to anything but the fire before

600 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
them, until they were at last startled by a scream from the house.
Instinctively they felt that the flames had seized it, and they
started to the rescue of the children. But the smoke had settled
down so thick that they ran in all directions without finding the
house, and knew not its locality until the fall and crash of
the roof told them that the Httle ones had met an awful fate.
" 1 tell you, mister," said Kent to our reporter yesterday, " it
ma'de us crazy. The fire was all around us except to the west,
house gone, bam burning ; hay and everything destroyed There :
was only one thing to do — I got hold of Mary' and plunged
through the fire and smoke until we got out into the Lake road, »'<
and then we had hard work to keep ahead of the fire before ^
reaching the water. It was awful, sir, to hear that screaming from ''*
those burning children, and it was dreadful to go away and leave
them roasting there."
Many of the others had almost as bad experiences. While
some of the farmers left the woods ten or twelve days ago, seeing
that nothing could prevent the progress of the flames, others Hke
Kent hoped for a rain, and trusted that the fire would not advance
over the cleared lands. There was a family named Cross, a man
living about a mile . back of Kent's, and as he did not see them
come out, and knew them to be at home at the time his house
burned, he is certain that every one, five in all, were roasted in the
flames. A Detroiter named J. P. Parker returned to the city yesterday
after an absence of ten days in the counties on fire. He states
that no one can form an idea of the desolate scene unless he was
a spectator. For several days Parker was right on the borders of
the fire, being driven back six or seven miles some days, and
meeting with scores of people who were driven out of their burn
ing houses. He states that one day, while he was making a great
effort to get through the woods to see about the fate of a saw-mill,
he encountered an Indian and his squaw, the latter having a pa-

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST./ 601
poose strapped to her back. Parker tried to halt them for a mo
ment to make inquiries, but they passed him on the keen run, the
Indian yelling out, " No more wigwanf ! "
The only avenue of escape was the Lake. Many of the settlers
along the shore packed their goods on rafts and anchored them
out in the Lake, some being thus afloat for many hours before be
ing taken off by steamers. Others who were fleeing for their
lives, and had no time to build -rafts Or httht for boats, had rib
r other resource but to plunge ini# therw&ter and wait for the'fire,
to burn itself out. y -'. ^j^0jjj§0 ^kMS^^t
All the telegrancisandlettera'ie^vMfit^thd'LiW^OreregJori'
confirm the statements of these ^eS^^^^^rtf^fieasbh'^appr^Vi
hend that very Httle property, lying anyv^hefe'ftear" the great'' ffie '
belt, will escape, and that the fire wiU constantly increiase and travel
in new directions. There is already a piteous appeal for'help, and
the cry will continue for weeks to come. Every effort of our citi
zens and of the people throughout the State must now be directed
towards raising money, food, and clothing for our unfortunate
sufferere. Detroit has already raised a considerable sum, and
more is being raised every hour, while large coUections of cloth
ing are being made in various quarters of the city. If any citizen
has a shilling in money, a pair of boots, cast-off clothing, a blanket,
or anything else that will cover and comfort the poor victim; it is
hoped that he will call at the City Clerk's office and leave it.
The steamer Marine City arrived in Detroit about seven last
evening, and from Captain Robertson we obtain some further par
ticulars about the fires on the shore. In the counties of Alpena, .
Alcona, and Iosco the people had, up to the time the Marine City
passed, succeeded in keeping the fire out of the viUages, though
in some cases the struggle was for a long time a doubtful one.
In Alcona on Monday the furniture and other movables were
taken out of some houses, in the fear that the efforts to keep out
the fire would not be successful, but the houses were finaHy saved

602 mSTOKY OF THE GREAT FERES
In Harrisonville the fire approached uncomfortably near to the
dwellings, but the people had thus far succeeded in keeping it off.
Between An Sable and Tawas there was a great deal of fire in
the woods, but the villages had not yet suffered.
At Alpena there was a report that there was fire above Devil
River, and that it was working its way toward the village.
In all of the villages mentioned the inhabitants felt reasonably
secure in case there should be no high wind; but in the event of a
gale, without rain, they considered the danger very great that they
would suffer the same fate as other villages further down. They'
had a sfight rain on Tuesday, but not enough to afford much;
security against the spread of fire. . All along this coast there was
such a dense smoke that it was1 impossible to see more than a few
feet, and the eyes suffered severely from its effects. At Alpena
it was necessary to light the lamps in the cabin, as the smoke
caused a darkness as great as that of early evening.
At Forrester, where the Marine City stopped, one of the suffer
ere from the interior came on board in order to go as far as
Lexington and procure provisions for his friends in the country.
He had walked down to Forrester from a place six miles back of
Richmondville, where there were twenty-five families in one
house, with only two days' provisions on hand, and he was the
only man in the whole number who felt able to get as far as For
rester. The rest of the men were suffering from fire blindness,
bunas, or exhaustion. The house in and about which they had
gathered was the only one saved in that vicinity, and the two days'
rations which they then had were all that they had been able to
save from the fire. An effort will be made to bring them away as
soon as possible, but the means of transporting them down to the
shore are very scanty. According to the latest news that the
Marine City could obtain, there Have been nine villages bm-ned on
the coast, viz. : — New River, Huron City, Port Hope, Sand Beach,
Center Harbor, Rock Falls, White Rock, Elm Creek, and Forrest-

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 603
ville, while nothing is known of many of the villages back from
the coast. The only dock left between Richmondville and Point
Aux Barques is that at White Rock.
In Huron City there is one public house standing, that of R.
Winterbottom, while the remainder of the village is burned.
Port Hope is all burned, except the fine residence of Mr. Staf
ford, his store, and the Masonic Lodge. Mr. Gunning, Hving
back of Cato, is burned out,* and it is feared that the same t fate

secure. -We get by the way of Sag^W^airniriorithat.it^
-been burned, but the rumor' comes in such, shape as to lead, to the
''beHef that it is incorrect. ; J"ii^-^m0i.Mrk^/i^,^{i ..!.(.,/.•,..-: -
The tug Frank Moffat arrived at Port Huron Wednesday night,
with forty passengers from Sand Beach, five of whom were badly
injured. She reports that Verona was entirely, and New River
partly destroyed. It was reported that many Hves were lost,
and also that there was a large destruction of cattle, hogs, and
horees. R. B. Hubbard & Co., of Huron City, owners of large
numbers of choice imported stock, shot the animals down to pre
vent them from burning. The steamer Huron, which left Port
Huron Tuesday night, returned to that place last evening with
another load of rescued villagers, the second that she had brought
down. She starts up the shore again this morning to continue
the work of mercy which she has carried forward so efficiently,
and will be devoted by her owners to this duty as long as there is
any apparent need of her services.
From the Saginaw Valley it is reported that everything between
Pine Run and Bridgeport has been destroyed. On all sides of
Saginaw — indeed, throughout the whole vaUey — the woods were
burning fiercely, and the flames were continually sweeping rap
idly onward, carrying destruction to property of all kinds. In
East Saginaw five buildings were burned at midnight, Sunday.

604 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
The occupants of the building where the fire originated were with
great difficulty rescued. Some of them had their feet and hand's
almost roasted. While the fire was raging a fire broke out in
Saginaw City, which destroyed the entire property known as the
" Island " and situated between the river and the bayou, on the
side of the river. The fire originated in the shingle-miU of Burn-
ham & Still, just above the upper bridge. This mill, drill-house
and boarding-house were entirely destroyed; also a house owned
bv a Mr. Burnham ; the saw-miU, 'drillihOns&i< kettle arid steam"
salt blocks of Chapin & Barber :"*a"ldtL Of lumber' and twothOu*-"1
sand cords of wood, owned by JCha|>iri?;«$. Barber; the shingle-.
mill of Lathrop & Inscoe, iarid several ;dwelfiri^s.t:'^otal loss^
$75,000. The woods between St. Charles' 2nd Chesaning are air-
afire. Nearly a thousand cords of wood were destroyed at St.
Charles. Above Midland the telegraph poles are aU burned"
down, and much valuable timber is destroyed. At County Line
four buildings have been destroyed and more are in danger.
Four or five hundred cords of wood and twelve miles of fencing
are bm-ned near Birch Run.
In all the valley cities the most intense excitement prevafled
since the terrible fires have given us a foretaste of what the future
must inevitably be if rain is not soon graciously vouchsafed- to us.
So soon as the proclamation of the Mayor was made pubfic the
mills were all shut down, and the men sent to such ooints as thev
were supposed to be most needed in. It was but a short time
after the call of the Mayor was promulgated ere hundreds of men
with spades, hoes, axes and rakes were on their way to the various-
points of danger. Necessarily disorganized as were the men in
the first excitement of gathering, it was not long ere they were
systematically at work in the thus far successful endeavor to stay
the progress of the fire. Clerks in the stores and laborers in the
workshops and mills united side by side in preventing the advance
of the flames. Yesterday was indeed a day of terror in om- val-

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 605
ley. In every direction wagons drawing barrels of water, men
with pails and axes and other implements with which to fight the
rapacious monster, could be seen eagerly pressing to and fro in
their mission. Occasionally a countryman could be seen implor
ing men to go with him miles into the country to save his proper
ty, but almost everybody had too much to do near his own dwell
ing-place. In the doorways and yards anxious women eagerly
l inquired Jfor the latest news, and .more jthan ,once our reporter

fiiance, and.we ;fear it wiU but deepen if „the mnch-desired iain
Des not speedily fall t
From the Saginaw Enterprise we take another account of a city ;
fsaved by courageous and weU-sustained endeavor : — , "fj- ¦/*:
=-The report that Midland was in fiames was not collect. The
city suffered no damage ; but had it not been for the extraordinary
exertions of the people, we would have had a different story to
teU. The whole place on Monday night was entirely surrounded
with a vast sheet of flame, and the crackHng of the fire and the
crash of falHng trees made the scene a fearful one. VaHantly
did the people fight the flames, but so steadily and surely would
they spread that aU the exertions of the people appeared quite
futile. The fierce wind added to the fury of the flames and car
ried sparks and burning fragments through the air. At one time
the whole heavens appeared one mass of fire, and the destruction
of "the place appeared inevitable, but the unceasing labors of the
people kept the fire within bounds, and the city of Midland
escaped. The Enterprise also has the following additional disasters : —
Late last night we received the news that four shingle-mills
were destroyed between three and four miles from Midland.
They belonged to Messrs. George Rockwell, CoHier & Garber,
Dowlere, and Reardon & Andrews. Besides these mills, all the

606 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRICS
shanties, boarding-houses, and barns attached, and a large quantity
of shingles were also consumed. The flames made a clean sweep,
and men and cattle were driven in all directions to seek a place
of safety. The total loss is estimated at $50,000. So fierce were
the flames and so rapid did they spread, that before the men
working at the mills were aware of it, they were completely sur
rounded by the burning woods, without the remotest hope of
escape. They rushed in aU directions, but they could not find a
way out of their dangerous location. -pTlie burning circle aroniul
them was gradually but surely growing smaller, and there was novl
time to be wasted. Some lowered themselves down into.welb.aud, .
others dug holes in the ground, in which they Bought protection:
In these uncomfortable positions they remained aU night, not dar-j
ing to move for fear of the falfing trees. Yesterday a gang of
men with wagons was sent out from Midland to their refief , and
all escaped without serious injury.
Kawkawlin is entirely surrounded by fire. John Gordon came
to Bay City for help. His eyebrows were singed, his hands were
blistered, and a piece of his buggy was bm-ned. A hotel half-way
between Bay City and Rifle River was in imminent danger from
the rapidly approaching fire. It became so smoky that the family
were in danger of being suffocated. The proprietor, Barney
Shoots, went to the railroad and hired a man for $20 to bring
himself, his wife and Mr. Jay's little daughter, who was visiting
them, to Bay City. He left a man to take charge of the horses
and cattle. The man arrived yesterday morning and reported the
horses and cattle safe, and the house still standing.
The railroad bridge across 'the Pincouning River has been
burned. Yesterday morning a train carried out the material and
men to build a new one.
On the eastern coast of Lake Michigan half of the flourishing
town of Manistee, with 4,000 inhabitants, has also been burnedv
The loss is computed at $1,300,000. .

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 607
In Minnesota the loss of Hfe has been least, though the area of
destruction has been probably as great as in Wisconsin.
The conflagrations have extended to within sight of St. Paul,
and have swept irresistibly over the greater portion of Wright,
Meecker, McLeod and Carver counties ; and from thence out as
far as Breckinridge there is an almost continuous belt of burned
.country. The towns, however, have generaUy managed to escape,
iajm'iiia beheved that the woret of the danger iff Over/* The Hves
not, probably, foot up to fifty, aU told. >J:StiU,nthe devas^
mohg the woodshas been fearful, and thousands Of Square

are been reduced to a charred waste. W.

y .<-¦;.., '-"!-¦;•- gAVED BY HEBOISM. ' ¦^¦•¦•¦X\'."J-ilh-:'t-'pM8f:$V
large portion of Gratiot County, Mich., was overrun by the!
Iare fires, destroying dwellings, fences, timber, saw-mills, and other
; property. The only mill saved in that section was that belonging
to D. L. Case and James M. Turner, of this city.
An old Enghshman in their employ, named Jacob Laird, saw
that the mill was in the range of the fire, and that it was speedily
coining upon him, and he made preparations to meet and fight it
like an old soldier, for he had served the Union cause gallantly
during the late rebeUion. Taking aU the movable property from
the mill, blacksmith shop, and boarding-house, he buried it where
it would be safe from the devouring element. Then he dug a
series of wells, inclosing the miU and hundreds of thousands of
feet of lumber, placing by the side of each weU a ban-el filled
with water, a pail in each well and another in the barrel. These
weUs were dug thick as needed for the speedy protection of the
property. One well he dug deeper than the others, that in case
his efforts to save the property should be in vain and his own life
in danger, he could jump in as a last resort.
The fire came down upon him Hke a- tornado. With his force
of hands ho met it, and where it crossed the line here and there,

608 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIEES
setting fire to piles of lumber, the water ready at hand quenched
the flames. At last he came off victorious, for he saved the miU,
lumber, and all the property, with the loss of his own hair, eye
brows, whiskers, and even the woollen shirt from off his back.
When rallied by his employers as to whether he " didn't find it
hot work," his reply was, " It was not much of a soldier who
couldn't face the fire, after facing as many cannon as he had."
As a reward, Laird's wages have been nearly doubled, and he.
was furnished with a fine suit of clothes, and told that he coul<3
remain there as long as he chose."£,_>. y. -,-fy^h' - ''y ' ¦*"».''-•;-'¦•
During Monday the city of Grand Haven was fujl of terr|fcij
rumors as to the fire in Holland City,'but nothing definite or rem
ble could be learned until the arrival at two o'clock of a tf
from the north side of Black Lake, containing several passengers,;:
among whom were Miss Jennie and Miss Clarie Pennoyer, two]
young ladies who have been engaged in teaching in the doome<J
city. The statement of these young ladies is nearly as foUows :^*j
The fire broke in upon the city from the woods about three pjt,
Sunday, but no buildings of any consequence burned until dark.;
in the evening. No one thought the city was in any special danger
until ten or eleven o'clock, but at that time a strong wind setting
in from the woods, the fire swept over the city with wonderful
rapidity. The main part of the city was soon in flames. The
house where the Misses Pennoyer were staying caught fire about
three o'clock Monday morning. The ladies had packed their
trunks, and, hastily dressing themselves in wrappers, just managed
to escape. The Lake View House went next, and then the fine
City Mills of Wakeman, Gerlings & Co. The ladies, after leaving
the house, ran to a. small mound near by, and soon found them
selves surrounded by fire. Mr. George Howard, whose efforts
were indefatigable, managed to assist them out of their precarious
position. The portion of the city where Professor Charles Scott resided

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 611
was completely destroyed, and the Professor not being found, it
was generally feared that he had fallen a victim to the flames.
Mr. Joslin, of the firm of Breynan ifc Joslin, another of the best
citizens, was engaged in rescuing persons from the flames. He
insisted on going once more to the rescue ; friends advised him
not to venture, but he would not be dissuaded, thinking there were
- stUl Hves to be saved He did not return, and is believed to have
\ been suffocated and burned to death. The Hvery stables were
^emptied of the horses which were taken to the public square, as.
ithe only place of ^ safety. ^Thousands. 'of people were coUected
h there. Women arid childreh'were then rurining about the streets,
vwailing and crying, unable to find their husbands and fathers,
brothers and sisters. Many fenaales harely* escaped with their
night-clothes. A child ten years of age was picked up on the
street burned to death. It is impossible to teU how many Hves
are lost. Some nine or ten citizens are missing, but some may
yet be foimd.
When the Misses Pennoyer left, men were trying to keep the
fire from the College buildings, but the succeeding train reported
that these buildings, although of brick, were burning ; also the
Union School building and all the churches, except the " Seced-
ere " or the " True Reformed Church." One woman in leaving
her house tied her baby in a bundle, but in her hurry she took the
wrong bundle, and to her dismay discovered her mistake when too
late. Of seven children she could find only two. Fortunately,
however, the bundle containing the live baby was picked up in
the street, and it was believed that the other children were also
found. *
Mr. M. D. Howard, when he saw the fire rapidly approaching
liis residence, visited every room in the house for the last time.
The house was elegantly furnished, and the fine piano, together
with every article of furniture, was destroyed. Nothing was
saved but a little personal clothing. The family took refuge on a
35

612 niSTOEY OF THE GREAT FIRES
tug and were taken toward the mouth of Black Lake to a place
of safety. George Howard was very diligent in picking up
eliildren and women who were running frantically about in places
of danger and removing them to a place of safety. In this way
he saved numerous lives. He sometimes had to capture them by
main force to save them from destruction.
The City Hotel at first was considered- by Mr. Myers out of
danger, but his most valuable articles he fortunately buried in the
ground, and these were all that was saved of the best hotel in the
city. The house was in flames when the f aimly and boarders es- i
caped. The other hotels all shared the same fate. '''¦" i-%i:'---.i? ¦¦'-1y%
Mr. George Howard, at the very commencement of the fire,1
took fourteen spades and handed them each to Hollanders, who *
were standing around, and requested them to use them in throwing
sand on the fire, so as to prevent it from spreading to the destruc
tion of the city. They actually refused to work, giving as a reason
that it was Sunday, and it would be wrong to do any work on that
day. Had they gone to work Hke men, this terrible conflagration
and suffering might possibly have been prevented.
The woods along the line of the Michigan Lake Shore Rafl-
road, between Holland and Pigeon River, were in flames. The
miles of marsh were one sheet of flame, and it was with great
difficulty the train came through. The heat inside the cars was
intense. A message from Mr. A. D. Howard was received by the trSin,
stating that the people were in danger of starving, as all the stores
were destroyed, and asking that a supply be immediately shipped.
Mr. D. Cutler immediately called <5n the stores and ordered a
supply of crackers, and all the cooked provisions that could be
collected sent to the depot. The train did not get off till Tuesday
morning, when rain came and subdued the flames along the line
of the road.
We felt profound sympathy for children in these seasons of terror

IN CHICAGO AND TOE WEST. 613
and destruction, for they could not reason, but saw the peril in the
skies by day and night, and passed through the bitter struggles
for life which so often terminated fatally, and always brought
suffering and distress.
A Port Huron correspondent of the Detroit Post says : —
You have afready been told the story of the little boat-load of
chUdren carried from Rock Falls to Canada, and saved in spite of
. storm and himger and exposure. I saw Mrs. Mann, the mother of
{these children, who arrived here yesterday morning on board the
:._Euron. ; She had given up aU pf them.for lost. :0 But, piotlier-like,
-though four^were saved, she. mourned deeply for, the lost one,
who, half rclad and shivering in the cold water in the bofioni of
the ; boat, -sailed away upon an unknown and measureless sea
almost in sight of land and deliverance. There were five children
in this boat belonging to Mrs. Mann, and four to the owner of the
.boat who took them away, making nine infant voyagers, who for
three days, without food and drenched to the skin, floated across
Lake Huron in a boat which was kept from going to the bottom by
means of an old boot and a shoe, which were the only vessels for
baling that these unfortunate travellers had on board. The
mother's heart seemed deeply touched and troubled because no
last offices and loving ministries could, in the nature of the case,
be paid to the little one whose voyage of life was at once so brief
and eventful. When these four children were put on a tug at
Kincardine, Ontario, to be returned to their parents, it struck a
rock just as it was getting under way and went down. The
children were rescued and sent homeward by the care. They
have at last reached Port Huron, after adventures by field and
flood almost equal to Othello's, and it is hoped that they wUl arrive
home without f urther accident.
The babe of Mre. Shubert, of Paris, one of the PoHsh settlers,
was carried from its burning home by its grandmother, while its
mother stayed behind to fight the fire. The grandmother was

614

HISTORY OF TOE GEEAT FIRES

compelled to lie down in a roadside ditch with twenty others,
where they passed the night, it being the only refuge from the
flames. The infant was only three mouths old, and required
nourishment. Luckily the fire had driven a cow to seek cbmpany
and shelter with these human beings. A big tin pan was found
in a wagon, and the animal was milked. The baby's aunt took
the mushy compound which the flying sand, cinders, and ashes
made of the milk into her mouth, and fed the child in that
original manner. ~ -.' ' . ¦-'".
During the recent terrible fires in Western Michigan/there were
three brothers, owners of valuable mills and- buildings, which they
and their neighbors (some of whom were Christian men) were de
fending from the fire until all were exhausted and in despair. One
of the owners, a frank, rough, wicked man of huge frame and
generous impulses, said many hard words about God's permitting
the destruction of so much property for no good to any one, etc.,
etc. Finally, he gave up and said to his neighbors : " Go'home,
go home ; nothing more can be done for us ; God can do as he
pleases." Just then a few drops of rain fell ; looking up, they
saw the cloud, and all redoubled their efforts. A slight rain fell,
and the fire was checked, and the mills saved. The rough man
dropped upon his knees, great tears rolled down his face, his
hands were clasped, head bowed, and he agonizing to express his
thanks. Suddenly he sprang to his feet, vigorously swinging his
hat, and with the most intense earnestness shouted, " Hurrah for
God ! Hurrah for God ! "
ONE COUNTY IN MICHIGAN.
Beginning below Port Austin, Huron County, Grindstone City,
a place of three himdred inhabitants, is half destroyed ; then fol
low New River, three buildings burned ; Huron City, five hun
dred inhabitants, totally destroyed ; Port Hope, six hundred inhab
itants, half gone ; Forest Bay, two hundred inhabitants, eveiy house

IN CHICAGO AND TOE WEST. 615
gone ; Sandbeach, four hundred inhabitants, all destroyed ; Cen
tre Harbor, one hundred and fifty inhabitants, everything gone ;
Rock Falls, three hundred inhabitants, half of the town burnt ;
Elm Creek, oue hundred and fifty inhabitants, totally destroyed ;
White Rock, six hundred inhabitants, every house consumed ;
Verona Mills, three hundred inhabitants, every house in the place
gone, except the minister's. Thus were the Httle villages of this
region scourged. The destruction in the country was proportion
ately great ; the farming townships' of Sheridan, Bingham, j?aris,
Verona, Sherman and Sandbeach .were traversed by. the flairies,
which lapped up everything in the shape,6f houses, -barns/ fences,
stock, farming implements, etc. ¦*. <':¦:.. &'$& y,-.-. ,../••_¦ 'I ¦•::%"'
f, A more particular account thus locates and estimates the mis
fortunes of this single county :
The total number of persons and families burned out, and of
losses in Huron County are as foUows, in the townships named : —
" Verona — Twenty-seven families, one hundred and fourteen
persons, loss $42,150.
"Bingham Township — Thirty-five families, comprising one
hundred and sixty-eight persons, burnt out.
" Sigel Township — Twenty-one families, one hundred and five
persons, loss $6,300.
" Grant Township — Four families, twenty-one persons, loss
$1,700. "Colfax Township — Four famiHes, twenty-two persons, loss
$2,000. " Sheridan Township — Four families, nineteen persons, loss
$1,100. " Sherman Township — Twenty-five families, one hundred and
sixteen persons, loss $16,150.
" Huron Township — Twenty-three famiHes, ninety-seven per
sons, loss $8,550.
" Dwight — One family, seven persons, loss $2,000.

616

niSTORY OF TOE GREAT FIRES

" Mead — One family, six pereons, loss $400.
" Hume — Three families, nineteen persons, loss $1,800.
"Mr. W. R. Stafford lost $53,000 by the fire.
" In Port Hope, Rubicon and Gore townships, there are three
hundred and thirty-eight pereons burned out, with a loss of
$176,825. " The total number in the famiHes that are losers in this county
alone is not less than 3,000.
" There have been eleven school-houses burned in this county,
as follows : all in Paris township, four in number ;¦ one at Ver
non Mills, Gibson school-house in Shermari," one at White Rockj brie
at Centre Harbor, one at Sandbeach,! one at Forest Bay, and the
Hellem's school-house in Dwight. '
" The loss by the burning of bridges across streams and cross-
ways, through swamps, coupled with the almost total destruction
of fences, will amount to thousands and tens of thousands of dol-
lare. There is hardly a farm in the coimty but has had a portion
of its fences burned, and this is true even in those sections where
but few or no buildings have been destroyed.
" The loss to this county by the burning of pine and other valu
able timber is very great. It is too soon to make anything like an
accurate calculation of the total loss from this source, but from
converse during the week with the Supervisors and others from
different parts of the county, we know we are safe in saying that
it will exceed $1,000,000."
A gentleman, writing of Tuscola County, gives a forlorn pic
ture : —
The fire through this county has destroyed nearly all the pine,
and thousands of acres of hemlock timber. There are a large
number of individual cases of suffering by the fire, some losing all
they possessed in the world but their land, others losing nearly all
their fences, others barns, with their contents of hay, wheat, oats,
etc. The destruction of hard timber is also enormous, that more

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 617
especially on low grounds. Here the fire has burned so fiercely
that the roots of the trees have been burned off, and hardly
a tree is left standing.
There is a strip of country east of Cass City, embracing a por
tion of Tuscola County and nearly all of Huron and Sanilac coun
ties, which is probably the woret burnt district in this State.
Hardly a building is left, and the pine and hemlock lands are all
destroyed. Whole townships of timber are burned up by the
'; roots, and have faUen in every conceivable, jshape, rendering it
£next,tp impossible to lumber it without ..more expense thanfthe
¦j actual worth of the timber. I sajy and conversed with a geiitle-
%man from this district, who was .there "during- the whole fire.r and
iywho had several very narrow escapes; .from being burneid alive,'
being twice carried by others who were with him from the fire in an
insensible condition ; and finaUy, after there was no further hope of
saving his home, it was then too late to make his escape with his
family, and they took refuge in an out-of-door cellar, which is a
hole dug into the ground and then covered over with slabs, and
dirt thrown upon this.
They were compelled to remain there for twenty- four hours
without food, and almost suffocated by the dense smoke. This is
but one instance of many equally as narrow escapes. Eveiy par
ticle of anything like hay, corn-stalks, or straw was burned, and
many of those who had oxen and cows are now selfing them for
ten dollars a head, because they -have nothing to feed them, and
there is not a green thing in the woods or fields for miles. The
people of Watrousville have been active in raising supplies and
forwarding them to the sufferere. Yesterday Rev. Mr. Goodman,
of East Saginaw, was on his way into that county as a committee
of one to prepare the way for large supplies to be seut fr-om that
place. Business of all kinds has been entirely disarranged by the
fires, and there is a general complaint of dull times. But the prob
ability is that the rain, which commenced falHng this afternoon

618 IITSTOEY OF TOE GREAT FIRES
at about one o'clock, and at the present writing, ten p.m., con
tinues, will entirely extinguish the still smouldering fires, and give
a permanent relief from the anxiety and feeling of insecurity
which has pervaded the whole people of this section for the past
three weeks, and in a short time business will be resumed with
more vigor than ever.
The breadth of wheat sown in this county is very small, prob
ably not one-fourth of the usual amount. But a small portion of
the last wheat crop has been disposed of, farmers generaUy hold
ing it for a higher price. Hay, and aU kinds of coarse fodder"
and coarse grains are very high, and it wiU require a good deal
of economy to get their stock through the winter. •"¦• ¦?"» .^ " •- >-j •
In Chicago a man took refuge in a water-pipe and was roasted;
and now we have the story of a man in Michigan, who found his
death in a hollow log. SKELETON FOUND IN A LOG.
Some three months since an Englishman, named Halvry, after a
short stay at Quebec, came along to Detroit to visit his brother-in-
law here, Mr. John Gloveson, a produce buyer, living on Twelfth
street. Halvry left England with the intention of purchasing a
farm either in Canada or the States, and when he came to Detroit
he left his family at Quebec. As Gloveson was considerably ac
quainted in the Lake Shore counties, he induced his relative to
think of going into some of them and buying him a farm, and
agreed to go up with him on a prospective trip. They were both
ready to start — in fact, had left the house — when Gloveson was
handed a telegram, -which called him to go to Jackson, or run a
risk of losing several hundred dollars. He, therefore, reluctantly
abandoned the trip, and gave Halvry such instructions as induced
the man to make the voyage alone.
This was just a week previous to the news of the fires in the
woods which created such loss of Hfe and damage to property in

IN CHICAGO AND TOE WEST. 619
Sanilac, Huron and other counties. Halvry wrote from Forrest-
viUe, two days after reaching there, that he liked the locality very
much, and had had three or four offers of partnership in business,
which he was considering. He also stated further that he was
going back into the country to look at some fanning lands, and
should not probably come down the Lake for several days.
When the fire came, interrupting communication, Gloveson was
in Illinois, and he did not return home until several days after the
;newstof the destruction of ForrestviUe and other towns, j Waiting
sfrpm., day to .day for news or for the .reappearance oj£ .His relative,';
paid hearing nothing, he at length decided, to ^jnp 'there, having
£found by telegraphing to Quebec that Halvry had not joined his
j family. .. He accordingly proceeded on the trip, arid, after a hunt
of thirteen days, returned three or four days ago, bearing only
evfl tidings. Gloveson found plenty of people at Fon-estviUe who
remembered the Englishman, but for three days could not find any
one to teU him where the man went when leaving the town. He
at length found a farmer, whose property had beeu swept away,
who had shown Halvry around his farm, situated about four miles
from the town. This was only two days before the advent of the
flames, and the smoke was so thick as to cause many complaints
fr-om the new arrival, and he declined purchasing in a locality sub
ject to such a nuisance. Another man remembered meeting and
talking with the Englishman in the woods where men were getting
out some timber, and the last heard of Halvry was that he was
looking at some wild land on the afternoon before the fire, seven
or eight miles back of ForrestviUe. Day after day, until he had
travelled hundreds of miles, Gloveson rode and wralked over the
blackened and desolate country, finding no further news of his
relative. One day, when travelling across a bit of forest where the
fires still smouldered and flickered in the ground, and where the
flames had done great damage, he sat down to rest. In a moment
he became aware of a homble stench, and looking about him, he

620 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
made a terrible discovery. Fifteen or twenty feet away was a
large log, or the remains of one, for the fire had burned up all but
the end which had become heavy with water from resting in the
neck of a small marsh, dry then, but fed by a creek at other times.
Sticking out from the hollow of this log were the feet and legs of
a skeleton, nothing but the bare bones left, and beyond the skele
ton feet was the roasted body of a man, the flesh cooked and
shrivelled down, but emitting a smell which Gloveson could stand
only for a moment at a time without retreating. At length he
seized hold of the bones and drew the body out^ when the sight
and the stench were stiU more horrible.*-" At the shoulders the fire |
seemed to have stopped, leaving the flesh half cooked, and it wasy
now ready to fall from the bones. - 'The hair was gone from the '
head, the countenance so disfigured that there was no identifying
it, and the bones of one hand were as clean and white as chalk.
Every particle of clothing was gone, and down in the ashes below
Gloveson found a number of boot nails.
Although not certain that the roasted body was that of his rela
tive, Gloveson secured no other evidences of the man's death, and
yet fails to find that he is Hving. It seems that the victim, who
ever he was, had been caught in that vicinity by the fire, and hav
ing no other resort, crawled into the log, hoping that the flames
would sweep over it. The dry end caught fire, and he was roasted
alive, enduring the most horrible death imaginable. There was an
excavation close at hand, made by the uprooting of a tree, and into
this place the skeleton was dragged and the bank caved in on it as
a covering. Returning to ForrestviUe, Gloveson made such in
quiries as led him to believe that the skeleton was not that of any
resident of that locality, and he then ended his search.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 621

CHAPTER XLIL

Hon. Wm. A. Howard, writing to Hon. Alexander H. Rice, of
Boston, concerning the needs of Michigan, says : —
If you will now look at Port Huron, at the foot of Lake Huron,
and follow the shore northerly clear around and up Saginaw Bay,
and extending back from the shore into the country for mUes, you
-will find a country where the horror and buffering is almost past.
beHef. The loss of Hfe is very > greatf hFifiy dead bodies mexp...
found in the rear of our town alonkl^Tomen and. chUdren saved
their Hves by rushing into the Lake,r Jwith.thefr.hairfl^uinedjbff-ii
These people are being cared for byi Defeoit^and aU thei eastern. .
portion of this State, nobly aided by Toledo/ Cleveland, and, indeed,-
all over Ohio, New York, and last, but not least, glorious old New
England. Excuse the contradiction, but she seems to me not only
the best but the oldest country in the world, perhaps because I
first saw the light there.
If you would now find the field of the western branch of our
State Committee, you will please place yourself at Grand Haven,
at the mouth of Grand River and the western terminus of the De
troit and Milwaukee Railroad. If yon go north along the coast
about ninety miles, you will find the place where Manistee was.
If you go south from Grand Haven about twenty miles, and
turn inland and cross a little lane, you wiU find the ruins of Holland.
Of the villagers you will find three hundred families, in all per
haps two thousand pereons, who were utterly destitute of food and
shelter, and of clothing, except what they had on their pereons
when they fled for their lives. Instead of finding succor from the
surrounding country, the country itself is devastated. One hun
dred and thirty farms were stripped of buildings, fences, crops,
and their inhabitants were driven before the fire to the village.
But I need not describe the scenes at Holland or Manistee.
They simply needed everything there. But the liberality of the

622 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
American people, and especially of all the railroads in carrying
free, and giving preference to care loaded with suppHes, has en
abled the committee to accomplish more than could have been ex
pected. I inclose a printed slip that has some suggestions deemed
valuable for Holland. The people of Manistee will more readily
find employment in getting out lumber. When once provided
with shelter, bedding, and the men set to work, we shall be reHev-
ed to a great extent. The fire extended across the whole State. I-
have tried to point you to the shores. It was less severe in the interior, ¦
although there are many cases that do and must secure attention. -«|
At Manistee and Holland we have depots, and earnest, faithful:
men and women working to distribute to the necessities of thej
people. Our great depot is at Grand Haven, from which point j
we readily replenish smaller ones. We seek local contributions in
kind, food, second-hand clothing, cooking stoves, etc. I hope
$1,000 of your bounty has reached Peshtigo or vicinity. Some of
it is at Holland, in the shape of ticking for straw beds, or cheap
prints and wadding being made into warm comfortables ;. hammers,
nails, putty, glass, flour, pork, etc. — a few dollars in a shanty here
and barracks there. When a people finds the wolf at the door,.
and is fighting him for life, it can spread a little money very thin.
Our operations must continue a long time. We feel as though we
had entered on a Avinter's campaign. We are veiy thankful for
your people's liberality. We invoke your sympathy and aid in
the future. I beg leave to say that if some of your wealthy men
would loan to those Holland farmers some money to aid them in
building, they would combine business with charity. Probably
prompt payment of interest could hardly be expected the firet
year, but the whole principal and interest could be made very safe.
They are the most industrious people I ever saw. They settled
twenty-five years ago on that flat land, densely covered witli large
timber, and, with nothing but their hands, they converted nine
townships into a garden.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 623
This was written Oct. 30th, and on Nov. 15th the committee of
Boston relief reported upon Michigan as follows :
On the 16th of October, Governor Baldwin appointed two State
reHef committees, one for the eastern shore, and another for the
western shore.
(1) The committee for the eastern shore is located in Detroit
and consists of four gentlemen, of whom Charles M. Garrison is
"chairman. This committee has charge in general of the peninsula
^between Saginaw Bay and Lake Huron, the burnt reeion of which
icomprises'twenty-three townships severely,^and eighteen partiaUy
^hurried, and embraces an area of more than; 1,400 .square mUes. !
* In the parts severely burned the committee say that nine-tenths of
"the"^ houses were consumed. Extreme drought , had ^prevaUed
throughout the West for many weeks, and there had not been a
rainy day since the beginning of June. During this .time fires
were raging in the woods in many locaHties. The same gale which
blew upon Chicago on Sunday night, October 8, swept over the
burning woods of Michigan and Wisconsin, and in places increas
ing to tornadoes, fanned the scattered fires on the east side of
Michigan into a general conflagration.
Its fearful power may be illustrated by the case of White Rock,
on the coast. Here the population, that had fought the fire for
weeks, were aroused at one o'clock at night by the roar of the
tornado, and fled before it. They waded out into the Lake up to
their necks and remained there until seven in the morninjr, when,
exhausted, they returned to the beach and slept till noon. -Boats
which went to relieve the sufferers were unable to go within miles
of the shore for nearly two days, on account of the dense smoke
and fiery cinders. And yet we were told that not more than
twenty lives were lost in this eastern division, although from three
thousand to four thousand people were rendered utterly destitute.
The Detroit committee has thoroughly canvassed this whole
district. Lists of all the needy inhabitants are in the hands of

624

mSTORY OF THE GEEAT FIRES

the Supervisors of each township, through which individual wants
are ascertained. This committee has established seven stations
along the shore, at the most convenient points for distribution.
The region is almost inaccessible for supplies during the winter;
and the committee is endeavoring to accumulate, before the closing
of water communication, sufficient stores to last until spring. The
clothing wliich we saw was much of it poor and unassorted, but
the committee beheved that there was a sufficient supply both for
present and prospective use. There was not, however, money .
enough to meet the requisitions of the agents on the ground, andj
further contributions are especiaUy desired for the purchase yof]
such articles as can best be obtained there. . -y> -<w -{»• .-,r <'¦¦•] x .ffjl
(2) The committee for the western shore, whose headquarters are" .
at Grand Rapids, consists of five gentlemen, with Hon. Thomas '
D. Gilbert as chairman. The territory under its charge Hes in
two distinct sections, and embraces the region around HoUand
and the region around Manistee.
Manistee, which is situated about one hundred and fifty miles
north of Grand Haven, is a lumber settlement. About one-half of
the mills and one-half of the houses of this town were bm-ned. Of
these burned houses one-half were owned by the wealthier miU-
owners, and the remainder by the inhabitants of Manistee. These
latter were stripped of everything. Nevertheless, as regular faU
supplies were on their way, and the miU-ownere were giving em
ployment to the laboring population, we did not deem it necessary
to visit this place.
Holland, a fine town of about 3,000 inhabitants, was settled
twenty-five years ago by a poor Dutch colony under the lead of their
religious teacher, Rev. A. C. Van Raalte. In a quarter of a century,
by their thrift and industry, they had changed the wilderness into
nine prosperous townships. The fire had been raging for several
days in the immediate vicinity previous to Sunday, October 8. That
night it struck the town and raged fr-om a little after midnight until

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 625
six o'clock the next afternoon, laying waste about two-thirds of the
whole town, including the business portion of the city. There
were destroyed five churches, three hotels, sixty-eight stores, and
more than three hundred dwelling-houses ; all of which were a
total loss in consequence of a refigious prejudice of the people
against insurance. Although the inhabitants had to flee suddenly
in the night, but a single Hfe was lost.
,ijtf 'Besides, more than one hundred and forty farms were swept of
Jeverything, buildings, fences, and' trees. ^Tbeae sufferers.. both in
|fown and country, were left almost .entirely destitute, and, what, is
§%6rse, without work for the immediate future, y. The committee at
gGrand Rapids informed us that sufficient .clothing had been* re^
"ceived, except some special articles,'1 but ;that contributions of:
-money will be very acceptable. y .-.., ..V__H ' .=.. •.;
The Grand Rapids committee agreed with the principal citizens
of HoUand that the most efficient aid that could be rendered to
that section is a loan to the burnt-out tradesmen and farmers, of
from fifty thousand to one hundred thousand dollars, in sums of
from five hundred to one thousand doUare each, on good security,
with interest.
We have made arrangements with reHable persons for extend
ing relief to special cases which would not otherwise be reached.
It should be added that isolated fires throughout the northern
portion of Michigan have caused no inconsiderable loss and suffer
ing, which must needs depend for relief chiefly on local charity."
Through the l>berality so universal and divine, the pressing
necessities of this immense army of sufferere have been supplied,
and now that winter is upon them -with its snow and icy blasts,
they must be remembered still in their poverty and loneliness. If
it be asked what their neighbors and fellow-citizens are doing, we
could answer by telling this story: —
A well-known Detroit- lawyer, while conversing with a gentle
man, incidentally learned that the latter had been driven out of

626 HISTORY OF TOE GREAT FIRES
Chicago by the great fire, with nothing in the way of clothing
except a single suit. The lawyer, without waiting to hear any
thing more, hastily pulled off a new beaver-cloth overcoat and
gave it to the Chicago man, with the remark that he had another,
and could buy more if need be. It was a spontaneous act of
charity, and one which the recipient seemed to fully appreciate.
The Western people are generaUy free-hearted and sympathetic,
and will share the last loaf with the unfortunate.- -Everything J
..'---.., *&fc«"';*!ri% '"J*" *#$
that can be done they wiU do for theMctiiflftgfcf.-ithese^wfuI-
* .-.-"' '_.»- ¦_._- s&______S__»__B«S_3i* _.'- 'i*
calamities.

CHAPTER XLm. ...
i-rr ' 4
Our sketch of Western fires we bring to a close, with notices
of the remoter districts where the population was sparse. A
party from Dakota says : —
For some days previous to leaving Cheyenne River, in Dakota,
at a point seventy-five miles west of the crossing of the Northern
Pacific Railroad at Red River, a dense smoky atmosphere pre
vailed, which each day grew more dense, warning us that
immense " prairie fires " were approaching our quarters rapidly,
and our party deemed it prudent to move eastward as fast as
possible. We made immediate preparations, but found that we
were in the saddle none too soon. The intense heat and weight
of smoke affected us very much, and soon after starting we were
forced to ride as rapidly as it was possible for our beasts to carry _
us. All through that long day we toiled along, our eyes nearly
blinded ; with parched throat and cracked lips and intense thirst
we rode on and on, till at nightfall we came in sight of Red
River, having ridden seventy-five miles without rest or halt but
once. Glad were the hearts of our party, and much rejoicing

TN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 629
was there at our escape from great danger, if not from loss of
life. At points along the route the wall of flame would be quite
near us. Its roar could be heard many miles, and its rapid
motion was surprising. The line of fire seemed to be a solid
wall of flame of about twenty to thirty feet in height, and moved
as rapidly as a fleet horse could run. Occasionally a portion of
the line would break aWay in bodies of forty or more feet square,
and be carried with almost electric rapidity a distance of fifry or
a hundred rods ahead, and then strike the high, dry grass, which
> would immediately ignite and add its destroying force to the
already gigantic conflagration^ f£:yy^F^: '.:' .;<y ,«yy . ,;
¦ After resting at Red River, our party, reduced to three persons,
• moved on eastward and southward, passing over a district but
lately burned. We could not distinguish any object fifty yards
away, great, heavy clouds of smoke hanging like a pall through
all the distance of 250 miles we travelled before reaching the
Mississippi River, and even there the smoke was very oppressive
We deviated somewhat from a usual route traveUed, and found
at different points the charred remains of three human beings,
nothing left but the bodies, and those burned to a crisp. The
sight was horrible in all particulars, and not a thing could be
found that would in any way identify the burned corpses.
We heard of one case that showed great presence of mind and
much calmness.- A man who had been with Sherman in his
" march to the sea," was caught in the midst of a fire which was
approaching him from all sides. Having no matches to create
what is called " setting a back fire," and death staring him in the
face, his wit suggested a " gopher hole." Setting at work with
the will that a man would use who was working for life, he
attacked the sod with a large hunting-knife. Cutting a large piece
away, he rolled it back, and at once commenced throwing the
soft, dry earth upward and outward, and soon had a hole dug of
sufficient size to admit his body. Carefully drawing the sod
36

'630 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIEES
toward him, he succeeded in drawing it over his body, and then
filled up the " chinks " with dirt from within. He lay there
until the fire passed over him and was speeding furiously on its
way miles distant, then slowly he crawled out of his Hving grave,
beated fearfully, but injured in no way whatever. His soldier
experience had saved his life.
No one who has not witnessed this besom of destruction on the
"plains," can form any adequate idea of its magnitude, its ve
locity, its fiendish-like cruelty, its thundering roar, and its vast
destruction. . ". = ..¦•;.¦ ., . .-.:,
The prairie fires in the section of couritry above and below
Yankton, Dakota, on Wednesday, were terrible.
In the afternoon of that day the flames swept into the village of
Bon Homme with resistless fury, and the terror-stricken and
helpless populace saw a mill and three or four dwellings disap
pear in the fiery blast. Among the latter was a house occupied
by a widow woman as a boarding-house, and while she was ex
pressing to our informant her fear that the fire would .feach the
town, a wave of flame came whirling on like a frightened steed,
and before an effort*could be made to save anything in or about
the premises, the house was wrapped in flames and everything
was lost.
The down coach found the country pretty well burned over to
within a mile or two of Yankton, and the fire is stiU burnins. in
various directions. The ruins of four smouldering houses were
seen, grain and hay stacks were blazing on all sides, and burning
fences swept across the country in all directions. At one point -
a little girl, some ten years of age, appeared at the roadside and
piteously petitioned the people in the coach for help, saying that
her father and mother were away from home, and that she had
two sisters and a little brother, all younger than herself, in the
house, and the premises were in immediate danger of destruction.
Leaving one of the passengers to watch tho horees, the rest ran to

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 631
the house, and by starting a contrary fire succeeded in saving the
place. Another terrible fire raged the same day this side of Yankton,
and within a few miles of that city. The flames swept toward
Yankton, and in their course devoured several houses, besides nu
merous barns, sheds, and stacks of grain. The coach due in
Yankton on Wednesday evening had an exciting time of it. It
was discovered that the fire was coming, and a race was instituted.
¦The driver plied his whip, and away the horses went on a gallop.
pfearer and nearer came the fire. 'The red giare filled the, sky;
£the forked tongue shot out ; the terrible hissings of the demon
were in the eare of the affrighted passengers. ' The driver gather
ed his lines, drew the leaders from the road, the horses gathered,
jumped, a rail fence was beneath the wheels of the coach, the
coach was on a piece of ploughed ground, and the fire went by
with a roar like a cataract.
The particulars of a miraculous escape from death from a prai
rie fire were related to us by two gentlemen who arrived here last
evening from Grant County, Wisconsin, Messrs. J. L. Finley and
W. Kinney. They came the entire distance with a mule team
and wagon across the country. Their trip was without any inci
dent of note until tliey reached a point upon the prairie about six
miles east of Le Mars, where they were surrounded by a prairie
fire on Wednesday, the 4th inst. They were encamped upon a
small bottom, preparing their noon meal, when the fire made its
appearance. A.s soon as the fire was discovered approaching to
ward them Mr. Kinney ran from it and attempted to start a fire
and follow after it, while Mr. Finley set himself to work hitching
the team to the wagon, but owing to the high wind Kinney was
unsuccessful in his effort. The fire was now fast approaching
them, and they abandoned the attempt of setting another fire, and
ran for their lives. Mr. Kinney struck out on foot, and his com
panion put the whip upon the mules and attempted to make his

632 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
escape with them, but finding this impossible he reined his team
around toward the fire, and, after repeated attempts, succeeded in
running them through it, with no damage to himself and but a
little to the mules. Mr. Kinney, who had become separated from
his companion, ra. into the bed of a dry stream, on the banks of
which the fire was raging. He was nearly suffocated with the
smoke, and wild with terror, and in his attempt to get out of the
stream he feU into the fire, burning his hands seriously ; after
which he lay close to the bed of the stream until the fire passed
over, when he came out and found his companion, who was some
distance from him, uninjured.
They had two dogs with them, one of which was burned to
death, and the other one took refuge in a deep sink hole or well,
near where they had taken their dinner, and he was saved.
In view of all the miseries and calamities, crimes and casual
ties of the past twelve months, The Chicago Tribune christens this
The Black Year.
The year 1871 will hardly be considered in history a year of
grace. In point of fatality to human life, and destruction to ma
terial values by extraordinary natural causes, no year in the his
tory of the world can equal it. Overwhelmed as we are by our
own disaster, we have given little attention to what has been
transpiring abroad, and have almost come to consider ourselves
the only sufferers. The retrospect, however, is a terrible one.
War, famine, pestilence, fire, wind, water, and ice, have been
let loose, and done their worst, and with such appalling results,
and with such remarkable phenomena accompanying them, that
it is not to be wondered at men have sometimes thought the end
of the world had come. We have seen our own fair city laid in
ashes, throughout almost its entire business limits, and seventy
thousand people left homeless. Ou that same night the conflagra
tion swept through Northern Wisconsin and Michigan, sweeping
village after village with horrible loss of life, and ruining thou-

TN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 633
sands of acres of timber, the cutting and milling of which formed
the main industry of that region. Illinois, Minnesota, Indiana,
New York, Pennsylvania, Kansas, Missouri, and California, the
Alleghanies, the Sierras, and the Rocky Mountains have been
lavaged by fire, destroying immense amounts of property and
entailing wide-spread suffering. Chicago is not the only city
which has suffered. Peshtigo, Manistee, CachevUle, and Val-
lejo, Cal., TTrbana, Darmstadt, and Geneva, under the Alps, have
all been visited by terrible fires ;" and the torch of the incendiary
^has been applied successively^to*' Louisville, St. Louis, Toronto,
^Montreal, and Syracuse. ":i1i#® & t/H£*y.:*-r -y«/.'tV.f#J
y' The pestilence has walked ' at noonday. The cholera has
steadily travelled from Asia westward through Europe, and our
despatches of yesterday announced its arrival at New York Quar
antine. One of the most appalling plagues of modern times,
arising from yellow fever, has swept over portions of South
America, and in Buenos Ayres alone 28,000 bodies were buried
in one cemetery. Persia has been almost depopulated by the
plague, which has been rendered all the more terrible by the
added horrors of famine ; and now, in our own country, small
pox has appeared as an epidemic in nearly every large city.
Storms, in their various manifestations, have never been so de
structive before. In one night, a river in India suddenly rises,
swollen by a storm, and sweeps away an entire city, destroying
3,000 houses, and utterly prostrating the crops. The little
French seaport town of Pornic has been almost utterly destroyed
by a tidal wave. The icebergs of the Arctic have caught and
imprisoned within their impassable walls thirty-three whalers, in
flicting a loss of a million and a half of dollars upon the city of
New Bedford, and seriously crippling an important branch of in
dustry. St. Thomas has been devastated by a hurricane which
left 6,000 people homeless, and strewed its coasts with wrecks.
A typhoon of terrible power has swept along the Chinese coast,

634

HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES

destroying everything in its course, — towns, shipping, and life.
A hurricane at Halifax has inflicted a severe blow upon English
shipping. The storms on the English coast have never been so
severe before, nor so fruitful in maritime disasters. A tidal wave
at Galveston swept off all the shipping in port. A tornado has
swept through Canada, doing serious damage in Toronto, Mon
treal, and Quebec. The Island of Formosa has been nearly de
stroyed by an earthquake.
Add to these the unusual crop of murders and suicides in this
country, the alarming increase of railroad and steamboat disasters,
the monstrous villanies which have been brought to Hght in pub-
He offices and private corporations, the Franco-German war with
its attendant horrors, and the statement of the astronomers that
there has been an explosion in the sun, and that two or three
comets are just now in danger of losing their tails by their prox
imity to that orb, — and we may be justified in. assuming that the
year 1871 wiU be known in future calendars as the Black Year.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 635

HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES EN THE PAST.

CHAPTER XUV.
f '..¦.. '.- y.^l;;«j_s>y .,.-'Si
^, Fiee is a good servant, but a bad master, says the old proverb,
and this has been the experience of jnen in all ages. Virgil, the
Latin poet, in his poem the iEneid, introduces his hero __Eneas
as the narrator of the Siege of Troy by the Greeks, and its final
fall, and destruction by the torch of .the incendiary. The reader
will observe the abundance of supernatural machinery which
accompanies the description, for in those days, as Paul observed
in Athens, men were very religious, and had as many gods as
occasion required, to account for the events which transpired, and
the conduct of men.
The Greeks had long besieged Troy in vain. They contrived
at last a huge wooden horse and placed it near the gates, filled.
with armed men, their bravest and best. To induce the Trojans-
to admit the monster, they persuaded one Sinon to throw himself in
the way of capture, and enter Troy and explain the object of this
horse in such a way as to secure its admission. The treacherous •
scheme succeeds, and here we let the hero tell his own tale of
woe. We premise that Priam is king of Troy, Calchas is a
soothsayer of the Greeks, and Laocoon is a Trojan warrior, who
has hurled his spear against the horse in disdain. Laocoon and
his two sons were sacrificing at the altars, when lo ! two ser
pents, with orbs immense, bear along the sea, and with equal
motion shoot forward to the shore. They, with resolute motion,

636 HISTORY OF THE, GREAT FIRES
advance towards Laocoon ; and first both serpents, with close
embraces, twine around the little bodies of his two sons, and with
their fangs mangle their wretched limbs. Next they seize him
self, as he is coming up with weapons to their relief, and bind
him fast in their mighty folds ; and now grasping him twice about
the middle, twice winding their scaly backs around his neck,
they overtop him by the head and lofty neck. He strains at
once with his hands to tear asunder their knotted spires : at the
same time he raises hideous shrieks to heaven. Meanwhile, the
two serpents glide off to the high temple. AU urge with
general voice to convey the statue into the city.- • The fatal
machine passes over our walls, pregnant with arms. Four times
it stopped in the very threshold of the gate, and four times the
arms resounded in its womb ; yet we, heedless, and blind with
frantic zeal, urge on, and plant the baneful monster in the sacred
citadel. The Trojans, dispersed about the walls, were hushed :
deep sleep fast binds them weary in his embraces. And now the
Grecian host, in their equipped vessels, set out from Tenedos,
making towards the well-known shore, by the friendly silence of
the quiet moonshine, as soon as the royal galley had exhibited
the signal fire ; and Sinon, preserved by the will of the adverse
gods, in a stolen hour unlocks the wooden prison to the Greeks
shut up in its womb : the horse, from his expanded caverns, pours
them forth to the open air, and with joy issue from the hoUow
wood Thessandrus and Sthenelus the chiefs, and dire Ulysses,
sliding down by a suspended rope, with Athamas and Thoas,
Neoptolemus, the grandson of Peleus, and Machaon who led the
way, with Menelaus, and Epeus the very contriver of the trick.
They assault the city buried in sleep and wine. The sentinels
are beaten down ; and with opened gates they receive aU their
friends, and join the conscious bands.
Meanwhile, the city is filled with mingled scenes of woe ; and
though my father Anchises' house stood retired, and inclosed

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 637
with trees, londer and louder the sounds rise on the ear, and the
horrid din of arms assails. I start from sleep, and, by hasty step3.
gain the highest battlement of the palace, and stand with erect
ears. Then, indeed, the truth is confirmed, and the treachery of
the Greeks disclosed. Now Deiphobus' spacious house tumbles
down, overpowered by the conflagration; now, next to him,
TJcalegon blazes ; the Straits of Sigaeum shine far and wide with
ythe flames. The shout of men and clangor of trumpets arise.
|^My arms I snatch in mad haste.- I hurry away into flames and
¦ 'anns. -Who can describe in words the havocjwho the deaths of
f that night ? or who can furnish tears equal to .the disasters? O^1"
"ancient city, having borne sway for inany years, falls to the
'-' ground ; great numbers of sluggish carcasses are strewn up and
down, both in the streets, in the houses, and the sacred thresholds
of the gods. Nor do the Trojans alone pay the penalty with
their blood : the vanquished, too, at times, resume courage in
their hearts, and the victorious Grecians fall ; everywhere is
cruel sorrow, everywhere terror and death in thousand shapes. I
stood aghast; the image of my dear father arose to my mind,
when I saw the king, of equal age, breathing out his soul by a
cruel wound ; Creiisa,* forsaken, came into mind, my rifled
house, and the fate of the little lulus. I look about, and survey
what troops were to stand by me. All had left me through de
spair, and flung their fainting bodies to the ground, or gave them
to the flames. And thus now I remained all alone.
Then, indeed, all Ilium seemed to me at once to sink in the
flames, and Troy, built by Neptune, to be overturned from its
lowest foundation. Down I come, and under the conduct of the
god, clear my way amidst flames and foes : the darts give place,
and the flames retire. And now, when arrived at the gates of
* Creiisa, daughter of Priam, and the wife of __Eneas, who was lost in the
streets of Troy, when __Ei_ea__ made his escape with his father Ajichises and his
son Ascanius.

638 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
my paternal seat and ancient house, my father, whom I was de
sirous first to remove to the high mountains, and whom I first
sought, obstinately refuses to prolong his life after the ruin of
Troy, and to suffer exile.
Such purpose declaring, he persisted, and remained unalter
able. On the other hand, I, my wife Creiisa, Ascanius, and the
whole family, bursting forth into tears, besought my father not
to involve all with himself, nor hasten our impending fate.
" Now, son, I resign myself indeed, nor refuse to accompany you
in your expedition," he said; and now thi'oughout the city the
flames are more distinctly heard, and the conflagration roUs the
torrents of fire nearer. " Come then, dearest father, place yourself
on my neck ; with these shoulders will I support you, nor shaU
that burden oppress me. However things faU out, we both shaU
share either one common danger or one preservation: let the boy
lulus be my companion, and my wife may trace my steps at some
distance." This said, I spread a garment and a tawny Hon's hide
over my broad shoulders and submissive neck, and stoop to the
burden: little lulus is linked in my right hand, and trips after
his father with unequal steps ; my spouse comes up behind. We
haste away through the gloomy paths ; and I, whom lately no
showers of darts could move, nor Greeks inclosing me in a hos
tile band, am now terrified with every breath of wind; every
sound alarms me anxious, and equally in dread for my companion
and my burden. By this time I approached the gates, and
thought 1 had overpassed all the way, when suddenly a thick
sound of feet seems to invade my eare just at hand; and my
father, stretching his eyes through tho gloom, calls aloud, "Fly,
fly, my son, they are upon you ; I see the burnished shields and
glittering brass." Here, in my consternation, some unfriendly
deity or other confounded and bereaved me of my reason ; for
while in my journey I trace the by-paths, and forsake the known
beaten tracks, alas ! I know not whether my wife Creiisa was

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 639
snatched from wretched me by cruel fate, or lost her way, or
through fatigue stopped short ; nor did these eyes ever see her
more. Nor did I observe that she was lost, or reflect with myself,
till we were come to the rising ground, and the sacred seat of
ancient Ceres : here, at length, when aU were convened, she alone
was wanting, and gave disappointment to all our retinue, espe
cially to her son and husband. To my friends I commend As-
£canius, my father Anchises, with the gods of Troy, and lodge
'them secretly in a winding valley. I myself repair back to the
?<flty, and brace on my shining 'knhor. I am resolved to renew
severy adventure, revisit all the quarters of Troy, and expose mjr
life once more to all dangers. First of all, 1 return to the walls'
and the dark entry of the gate by which I had set out, and back
ward unravel my steps with care amidst the darkness, and run
them over with my eye. Horror on all sides, and at the same
. time the very silence affrights my soul. Thence homeward I
bent my way, lest by chance, by any chance, she had moved
thither ; the Greeks had now rushed in, and were masters of the
whole house. In a moment the devouring conflagration is rolled
up in sheets by the wind to the lofty roof; the flames mount
above ; the fiery whirlwind rages to the skies. Now adventur
ing even to dart my voice through the shades, I filled the streets
with outcry, and in anguish, with vain repetition, again and again,
caUed on Creiisa. While I was in this search, and with incessant
fury ranging through all quarters of the town, the mournful ghost
and shade of my Creiisa's self appeared before my eyes, her figure
larger than I had known it. I stood aghast ! my hair rose on
end, and my voice clung to my jaws. Then thus she bespeaks
me, and relieves my cares with these words : " My darling spouse,
what pleasure have you thus to indulge a grief which is but mad
ness ? These events do not oceur without the will of the gods.
It is not allowed you to carry Creiisa hence to accompany you,
nor is it permitted by the great ruler of heaven supreme. In

640 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIEES
long banishment you must roam, and plough the vast expanse of
the ocean : to the land of Hesperia you shaU come, where the
Lydian Tiber, with his gentle current, glides through a rich land
of heroes. There, prosperous state, a crown, and royal spouse,
await vou : dry up your tears for your beloved Creiisa. And
now farewell, and preserve your affection to our common son."
With these words she left me in tears, ready to say many
things, and vanished into thin air. There thrice I attempted to
throw my arms around her neck ; thrice the phantom, grasped in
vain, escaped my hold, swift as the winged winds, and resemb
ling most a fleeting dream. Thus having spent the night, I at
length revisit my associates. And here, to my surprise, I found
a great confluence of new companions : matrons, and men, and
youths, drawn together to share our exile, a piteous throng I

CHAPTER XLV.
Senator Thueman, of Ohio, in a speech made in behalf of the
contributions for Chicago, thus aHuded to the burning of Ancient
Rome : —
The memorable fire at Rome, in the reign of Nero, destroyed
nearly five-sevenths of the city, and included within the ruins were
her most stately temples and pubHc buildings, and her rarest and
most valuable collections of Hteratm-e, science, and the arts. But
it is not probable that the pecuniary loss was as great as that at
Chicago. And the individual suffering, dreadf ul as it was, was
mitigated by the warmth of a summer sun, for the fire occurred in
July. Yet it was horrible ; and, in order to recall the scene to
your memories, and because in many points it resembles that at^
Chicago, I cannot refrain fr-om reading the vivid description of it
by Tacitus : —

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 641
" A dreadful calamity," says he, " foUowed in a short time after,
by some ascribed to chance, and by others to the execrable wicked
ness of Nero. The authority of historians is on both sides, and
which predominates it is not easy to determine. It is, however, cer
tain, that of all the disasters that ever befeU the city of Rome
from the rage of fire, this was the woret, the most violent and
destructive. The flames broke out in that part of the circus
which adjoins on one side to Mount Palatine, and on the other to
'Mount CseHus. It caught a number of shops stored with com
bustible goods, and, gathering' force from the wind, spread with
rapidity from one end of the circus 'to the other.1 -Neither tho
thick walls of houses, nor the inclosure of temples, nor any other
building, could check the rapid progress of the flames. A dread
ful conflagration foUowed. The level parts of the city were
destroyed. The fire communicated to the higher buildings, and
again, laying hold of interior places, spread with a degree of velo
city that nothing could resist. The form of the streets, long and
narrow, with frequent windings and no regular opening, according
to the plan of ancient Rome, contributed to increase the mischief.
The shrieks and lamentations of women, the infirmities of age,
and the weakness of the young and tender, added misery to the
dreadful scene. Some endeavored to provide for themselves,
others to save their friends, in one part dragging along the lame
and impotent, in another waiting to receive the tardy or expecting
relief themselves ; they Hngered, they obstructed one another ;
they looked behind, and the fire broke out in front ; they escaped
from the flames, and in their place of refuge found no safety ; the
fire raged in every quarter ; all were involved in one general con-
flao-ration. The unhappy wretche? fled to places remote, and
thought themselves secure, but soon perceived the flames raging
round them. Wliich way to turn, what to avoid, or what to seek
no one could teU. They crowded the streets ; they fell prostrate
on the o-round ; they lay stretched in the fields, in consternation

642

HISTORY OF THK GREAT FIRES

and dismay, resigned to their fate. Numbers lost their whole sub
stance, even the tools and implements by which they gained their
livelihood, and, in that distress, did not wish to survive. Others,
wild with affliction for their friends and relations whom they
could uot save, embraced a volimtary death, and perished in the
flames. " During the whole of this dismal scene no man dared to at
tempt anything that might check the violence of the dreadful
calamity. A crew of incendiaries stood near at hand denouncing
vengeance on all who offered to interfere. Some were so aban
doned as to heap fuel on the flames. They threw in fire-brands
and flaming torches, proclaiming aloud that they had authority for
what they did. Whether, in fact, they had received such horrible
orders, or, under that device, meant to plunder with greater hcen-
tionsness, cannot now be known."
I make no apology for reading to you this lengthy extract,
written nearly 1,800 years ago, to describe what befeU Rome in
the sixty-fourth year of the Christian era. It presents to your
imaginations a more lively picture of what happened to an Ameri
can city, within the present month, than anything I could say.
When it was written the American continent was unknown.
More than seventeen centuries after it was written, the city of
Chicago sprang into existence ; and yet, so similar are mankind
in all ages, and so invariable at all times are the laws of Nature,
that the words of the Roman historian describe, with almost equal
fidelity, the destruction of the ancient mistress of the world and
of the commercial mistress of an American State.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 643
CHAPTER XLVI.
TOE BURNING OF MOSCOW.
We reproduce from the pages of Sir Archibald AHson, whose
history is deservedly ranked as standard authority, the foHowing
description of the burning of the ancient capital of Muscovy, an
event wliich, more than aU others combined, broke the power of
the first Napoleon : — C'^- . .'¦¦•'<¦¦
y.^Xt eleven o'clock on the iith, September, 1812, the advanced
guard of the French ai-my, from an eminence on the road, descried
- -'- ---.:-. - - ¦'"'¦' J:'^¦¦':"t^f^¦'(%l,-1 > ''.,' " •' .,*:'!*!.-'-" :.j:
the long-wished-for minarets of Moscow. ./The domes of above
two hnndred churches, and the massy summits of a hundred pala
ces, gfittcred in the rays of the sun — the forin of the cupolas gave
an Oriental aspect to the scene ; but, high above aU, the cross in
dicated the ascendancy of the European faith. The scene which
presented itself to the eye resembled rather a province adorned
with palaces, domes, woods, and biuldings, than a single city ; a
boundless accumulation of houses, churches, pubHc edifices, rivers,
and parks, stretched out over swelling eminences and gentle vales
as far as the eye could reach. The mixture of architectural decora
tion and pillared scenery, with the bright-green foHage, was pecu
liarly fascinating to European eyes. Everything announced its
Oriental character, but yet without losing the features of the
West. Asia and Europe met in that extraordinary city.
Struck by the magnificence of the spectacle, the leading squad
rons halted, and exclaimed : " Moscow ! Moscow ! " and the cry,
repeated from rank to rank, at length reached the emperor's
"•uard. The poldiers, breaking their array, rushed tumultuously
forward, and Napoleon, hastening in the midst of them, gazed
impatiently on the splendid scene. His first words were : " Behold
at last that famous city ! " the next, " It was full time ! " Intoxicat
ed with joy, the army descended from the heights. The fatigues

644 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
and dangers of the campaign were forgotten in the triumph of the
moment, and eternal glory was anticipated in the conquest which
they were about to complete. Murat at the head of the cavalry
speedily advanced to the gates, and concluded a truce with Mila-
rado witch for the evacuation of the capital. But the entry of the
French troops speedily dispeUed the Ulusions in which the army
had indulged. Moscow was found to be deserted. Its long streets
and splendid palaces resounded only with the clang of the hoofs
of the invaders' horees. Not a sound was to be heard in its vast
circumference ; the dwellings of three hundred thousand persons j
seemed as sflent as the wUderness. Napoleon waited in vain until ;
... • "i
evening for a deputation from the magistrates or chief nobflity. ;:
Not a human being came forward to deprecate his hostility, and
the mournful truth could at length be no longer concealed, that
Moscow, as if struck by enchantment, was bereft of its inhabitants.
Wearied of fruitless delay, the emperor, on. the morning of the
15th, advanced into the city, and entered the ancient palace of the
czars, amidst no other concourse than that of his own soldiers.
The Russians, however, in abandoning their capital, had resolved
upon a sacrifice greater than the patriotism of the world had yet
exhibited. • The Governor, Count Rostopchin, set the example of
devotion by preparing the means of destruction for his country
palace, which was splendidly furnished, and adorned with the
finest works of art, which he set fire to by applying the torch with
his own hands to his nuptial chamber ; and to the gates of the
palace he had affixed the foUowing inscription: "During eight
years I have embellished this country-house and Hved happUy in
it in the bosom of my famfly. The inhabitants of this estate, to
the number of seventeen hundred, quit it at your approach, in
order that it may not be sulHed by your presence. Frenchmen!
at Moscow I have abandoned to you my two houses, with their
furniture, worth half a mUHon roubles ; here you will find nothing
but ashes."

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 645
The nobles were prepared, in a public assembly, to have imitated
the example of the Numantians, and destroy the city they could
no longer defend, and Kutosoff had promised to give Rostopchin
three days' notice before he evacuated the city, in order that it
might be held. But owing to the advance of the French being
more rapid than had been anticipated, the notice was not given or
the meeting held, and the, governor was left to act on his own re-
sponsibiHty. Everything, howeyer, had been prepared for that
noble sacrifice. The authorities. 'when they, retired, carried with
-- ¦•. ^..(-.rtf.M. y-j'A.' ..-.'-. . , . - y- ;*y '
them the fire-engines, and everything capable of aiTest_i___g.a <jpn-t
flagration, and combustibles were disponed Jn the principal edifices;
to favor the progress of the flanies.,ii;The. persons intrufrted yrith ,
the duty of firing the city only awaited the retreat of their conn- ;
trymen to commence the work of ' destruction. , 'Rostopchin was
the author of this sublime effort of patriotic devotion, but it in
volved a responsibiHty greater than either government or' any
individual could support, and he was afterward disgraced for the
heroic deed.
The sight of the grotesque towers and venerable waHs of the
"Kremlin firet revived the emperor's imagination, and rekindled
those dreams of Oriental conquest wliich, from his earliest years,
had floated through his mind. His foUowere, dispersed over the
vast extent of the city, gazed with astonishment on the sumptu
ous palaces of the nobles, and the gilded domes of the churches.
Evening came on, and with increasing wonder the French troops
traversed the central parts of thc.metropoHs, recently so crowded
with passengers, but not a living creature was to be seen to ex
plain the universal desolation. It seemed like a city of the dead.
Night approached ; an unclouded moon illuminated those beau
tiful palaces, those vast hotels, those deserted streets — aU was still ;
the silence of the tomb. The officers broke open the doors of
some of the principal mansions in search of sleeping quarters.
The found everything in perfect order ; the bed-rooms were f uUy
37

646 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FERES
furnished as if guests were expected ; the drawing-rooms bore the
marks of having been recently inhabited ; even the work of the
ladies was on the tables, the keys in the wardrobes ; but not an
inmate was to be seen. By degrees a few of the lower class of
slaves emerged, pale and trembling, from the cellars, showed the
way to the sleeping apartments, and laid open everything which
these sumptuous mansions contained ; but the only account they
could give was that the whole of the inhabitants had fled, and that
they alone were left in the deserted city. But the terrible catas-'
trophe soon commenced. On the night of the 14th a fire broke ont
in the Bom-se, behind the Bazaar, which soon consumed that noble
edifice, arid spread to a considerable part of the crowded streets
in the vicinity. This, however, was but the prelude to more
extended calamities. At midnight on the 15th, a bright Hght wa3
seen too illuminate the northern and western parts of the city ;
and the sentinels on watch at the Kremlin soon discovered the
splendid edifices in that quarter to be in fiames. The wind
changed repeatedly during the night, but to whatever quarter
it veered the conflagration extended itself ; fresh fires were every
instant seen breaking out in aU directions, and Moscow soon
exhibited the spectacle of a sea of flame agitated by the wind.
The soldiers, drowned in sleep or overcome by intoxication, were
incapable of arresting its progress ; and the burning fragments,
floating through the hot air, began to faU on the roofs and courts
of the Kremlin. The fury of an autumnal tempest added to the
horrors of the scene ; it seemed as if the wrath of heaven had com
bined with the vengeance of man to consume the invaders of the
city they had conquered.
But it was chiefly during the nights of the ISth and 19th that
the conflagration attained its greatest violence. At that time the
whole city was wrapped in flames, and volumes of fire of various
colore ascended to tho heavens in many places, diffusing a prodi
gious Hght on all sides, and attended by an intolerable heat. These

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 647
baUoons of flame were accompanied in their ascent by a frightful
hissing noise and loud explosions, the effect of the vast stores of
oil, resin, tar, spirits, and other combustible materials with wliich
the greater part of the shops were filled. Large pieces of painted
canvas, unrolled from the outside of the buildings by the violcnco
of the heat, floated on fire in the atmosphere, and sent down on
all sides a flaming shower, which spread the conflagration in
^quarters even the most removed from where it originated. Tho
^wind, naturaUy high, was raised by the sudden' rarefaction of the
fafir produced by the heat, to a perfect hurricane. r_--The howling of ,,
|the. tempest drowned even the roar of the conflagration; 4 the'
Bwhole heavens were fiUed with the whirl of the volumes of sirioke
i and flame which rose on aU sides, and made naidnight as bright
as day ; while even the bravest hearts, subdued by the sublimity
of the scene, and the feeling of human impotence in the midst of
such elemental strife, sank and trembled in silence.
The return of day did not diminish the terrors of the confla
gration. An immense crowd of hitherto unseen people, who had
taken refuge in the cellars and vaults of their buildings, issued
forth as the flames reached their dwellings; the streets were
speedily filled witli multitudes flying in every direction with
their most precious articles ; while the French army, whose dis
cipline this fatal event had entirely dissolved, assembled in
drunken crowds, and loaded themselves with the spofis of the city.
Never in modern times had such a scene been witnessed. The
men were loaded with packages, charged with their most precious
effects, which often took fire as they were carried along, and
which they were obliged to throw down to save themselves. Tho
women had often two or three children on then- backs, and as
many led by the hand, which, with trembling steps and piteous
cries, sought their devious way through the labyrinth of flame.
Many old men, unable to walk, were drawn on hurdles or w1 eel-
barrows Vj their children and grandchildren, while their burnt

648 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
beards and smoking garments showed with what difficulty they
had been rescued from the flames. Often the French soldiers,
tormented by hunger and thirst, and loosened fr-om aU discipline
by the horrors which surrounded them, not contented with the
booty in the streets, rushed headlong into the burning edifices, to
ransack their ceUars for the stores of wine and spirits which they
contained, and beneath the ruins great numbers perished miser
ably, the victims of intemperance and the surrounding fire.
Meanwhile the flames, fanned by the tempestnous gale, advanced
with frightful rapidity, devouring alike in their course the palaces
of the great, the temples of rehgion, and the cottages of the poor.
For thirty-six hours the conflagration continued at its height, and
during that time above nine-tenths of the city was destroyed.
The remainder, abandoned to pillage and deserted by its inhabi
tants, offered no resources to the army. Moscow had been con
quered ; but the victors had gained only a heap of ruins. It is.
estimated that 30,S00 houses were consumed, and the total value
of property destroyed amounted to £30,000,000.

CHAPTER XLVIL
THE GREAT FIRE HST LONDON.
We must go back more than a couple of centuries to find
a parallel to the terrible fire which has wrapped the city of
Chicago in a sea of resistless flame. On the 2d of September,
16G6, the city of London was almost entirely destroyed by
what has since been known as the Great Fire. This' awful
conflagration gained headway with the same terrible rapidity
as that of Sunday night, and in five dreadful days of ruin and ter
ror and panic laid two-thirds of the English mctropoHs in ashes.
Like the fire at Chicago, it broke out upon a Sunday, though at av
different hour — two o'clock in the morninsr. It originated in a

IN CHICAGO AND TOE WEST. 649
bakehouse, kept by a man with the quaint name of Farryncr, at
Pudding lane, near the Tower. At that period the buildings in
the English capital were chiefly constructed of wood, with pitched
roofs, and in this particular locaHty, which was immediately adja
cent to the water side, die stores were mainly fiUed with materials
employed in the equipment of shipping, mostly of course of a
highly combustible nature. To ,add to the conspiring causes of
the immense mischief in wnich: the fire ultimately resulted, the
;¦>»-.¦ -¦¦¦'¦- .-•'¦, -^i .,*,_,_. t, \ y , y
pipes from the New River — the 'source of the water supply of the
city — were found to be empty, arid the engine which raised water
•¦ • • - -.^j-.-4'i. .....> ..*-> ... .,.., -.,... ^
froriithe Thames was among the first property destroyed. The
vacillation and indecision of the lord mayor aggravated the con
fusion. For several hours he refused to Hsten to the counsel
given him to call in the aid of the miHtary, and when the prob
able proportions of the fire were plainly apparent, and when it
was clear that the destruction of a block of houses was absolutely
necessary to the preservation of the city, he declined to accept
the responsibility of destroying them until he could obtain the
consent of their owners. All through Sunday the wind increased
in violence, and the fire sped with incredible rapidity from house
to house, from street to street, on its work of havoc. We cannot
now do better than transcribe the account of the further mischief
caused by the fire, given by Mr. John Evelyn, in his " diary." It
reads as follows : —
" Sept. 3. The fire continuing, after dinner I took coach with
my wife and son, and went to the Banksidc, in Southwark, whero
wo beheld that dreadful spectacle — the whole city in dreadful
flames near yc water side : all the houses from the bridge, all
Thames street, and upwards towards Cheapsidc down to tho
Thrco Cranes, were now consumed.
" The fire having continued all this night (if I may call that
night which was as Hght as day for ten miles round about after
a dreadful manner) when conspiring with a fierce eastern wind

650 HISTORY OF THE GEEAT FIRES
in a very drio season ; I went on foot to the same place, and
saw tho whole south part of the city burning, from Cheapside
to the Thames, and all along Cornchill (for it kindled back against
the wind as well as forwards), Tower street, Fenchm-ch street,
Gracious street, and so along to Bainard's castle, and was now
taking hold of St. Paul's church, to which the scaffolds contri
buted exceedingly. The conflagration was so universal and the
people so astonished, that, from the beginning — 1 know not from
what, despondency or fate — they hardly strived to quench it, so
that there was nothing hearde or seene but crying out and lar
mentations, running about like distracted creatures, without at all
attempting to save even their goods, such a strange consterna
tion there was upon them — so, as it burned both in length and
breadth, the churches, pubHc halls, Exchange, hospitals, monu
ments and ornaments, leaping after a prodigious manner from
house to house and streete to streete, at greate distance one from
ye other ; for ye heate, with a long set of fair and warme wea
ther had even ignited the air, and prepared the materials to
conceive the fire which devoured after an incredible manner
houses, furniture and everything. Here we saw tho Thames
covered with goods floating, all the barges and boats laden with
what some had time and courage to save, as on ye other, ye
carts, ifec, carrying out to the fields, which for many mUes were
strewed with moveables of all sorts, and tents erecting to shelter
both people and what goods they could get away. Oh, the mis
erable and calamitous spectacle such as haply the world had not
scene the like since the foundation of it, nor to bo outdone till
tho universal conflagration. AU the sky was of a fiery aspect,
like the top of a burning oven, the light scene above forty miles
round about for many nights. God grant my eyes may never
behold tho like, now seeing above ten thousand houses all in one s
flame; the noise and crackling and thunder of the impetuous
flames ; yc shrieking of women and children, the hurry of people,

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 651
•the fall of towers, houses and churches was like an hideou3
storme, and the fire all about so hot and inflamed that at last
one was not able to approach it, so that they were forced to stand
stille and let the flames burn on, which they did for ncere two
miles in length and one in breadth. The clouds of smoke wero
dismall, and reached upon computation near fifty miles in length.
Thus I left it in the afternoone burning — a resemblance to Sodom
or the last day. Londori was, but iB no more !
«-, "Sept. 4. The burning still/rages, and it was now gotten so
;;far as the Inner temple, olde/Fleete streete, the Olde BaJey,
'- .' * ZSl W"»' ;- • '• - - *¦' , . .. i".- "Y
. jLudgate HiU, Warwick lane, -Newgate, Paule's Chain, Watling
/streete, now flaming and most of it reduced to ashes ; the stones
• v"' ° •¦¦•.ft'/i?' ry .,-• - •> ...--'-. , -  -,
of Paule's flew Hke grenades, ye melting lead running downc the
streetes in a streame, and the very pavements glowing with fiery
rednesse, so as no horse or man was able to tread on them, and
the demoHtion had stopped all the passages, so that no help could
be applied. The eastern wind still more impetuously drove tho
flames forward. Nothing but ye almighty powers of God was
able to stay them, for vaine was ye helpe of man.
" Sept. 5. It crossed towards Whitehalle ; oh, the confusion
there was then at that court! It pleased his majesty to com
mand me among the rest to looke after the quenching of Fetter
lane, and to preserve if possible that part of Holborne, while the
rest of ye gentlemen tooke their several posts and began to con
sider that nothing was so likely to put a stop but the blowing up
of so many houses as might make a wider gap than any that had
yet been made by the ordinary method of pulling them down by

Then after a description of the abating of tho wind, and
the o-radual dying out of the fire, the quaint old diarist con
tinues : —
"The pooro inhabitants were dispersed about St. George'

652 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
Fields and Mcorfields, as far as Highgate, and several myles in
circle ; some under tents, some under miserable hutts and hovels,
many without a rag or any necessary utensils, bed or board, who
from del icaten esse, riches and easy accommodation in stately and
well furnished houses, were reduced now to extreainest misery
and poverty."
And again : —
"I then went towards Islington and Highgate, where one
might have seene 200,000 people of ranks and degrees dispersed
and lying along by their heapes of what they could save from the
fire, deploring their losse, and though ready to perish from hun
ger and destitution, yet not asking one penny for relief, which to
me appeared a stranger sight than I had yet beheld."
How vivid an idea of the suffering and misery entailed by this
terrible visitation we- find in this simple but expressive narrative !
Nearly two-thirds of the entire city was destroyed. Thirteen
thousand houses, eighty-nine churches, and many public build
ings were reduced to charred wood and ashes. Three hundred
and seventy-three acres within, and sixty-three acres without the
walls were utterly devastated. Well might Mr. Evelyn compare
the fire to that whieh overwhelmed Sodom and Gomorrah, or that
other and yet more awful one which will engulf the entire world
at the Day of Doom.
John Howe preached a sermon on the rebuilding of London,
taking for his text these words, " The street shall be built again,
and the wall even in troublous times." In a note to that dis
course the editor thus describes tho fire and the restoration of the
city : " The dreadful fire so often alluded to began on Septem
ber 2d, 1666, near the place where the monument now stands,
by wliich one of tho noblest and most magnificent cities in tho
world was turned into ashes in a few days. A raging east wind,
wo are told, fomented it to an incredible degree, which in a mo-

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 653
ment raised the fire from tho bottom to the tops of the houses,
and scattered prodigious flakes in all places, which were mounted
so vastly high into the air as if heaven and earth were threatened
with the same conflagration. The fury soon became insupport
able against all the arts of men and power of engines; and be
sides the dreadful scenes of flames, ruins, and desolations, there
appeared the most killing 6ight under the sun — the distracted
. 'looks of so many citizens, the waiHngs of miserable women, and
/tho cries of poor children' and decrepit old people, with all'the
/marks of/confusion and despair."'.,??? i ^j'ftf /*'i«} /*'{ UJ\ ?;. n ; ' y-s: ftj:
^'-The inscription on the pillar erected by that famous architect,
- Sir Christopher Wren, in memory- of : this 'calamity, tells ns:
"The fire, with incredible fury and noise, "destroyed eighty-nine
churches, among which wa3 the Cathedral of St. Paul; many
public hospitals, schools, libraries, a vast number of stately edi
fices, thirteen thousand two hundred dwelling-houses, four hundred
streets, etc. The destruction was sudden ; for in a short time tho
same city which was seen in a flourishing condition, was reduced
to nothing ; and in a few days, when the fatal fire had, in appear
ance, overcome all means of resistance and human counsels, by
the will of Heaven it stopped and was extinguished. All per
sons were indefatigable in the work of rebuilding, and making
provision for tho resurrection of this city ; and Sir Jonas Moor,
after having raised Fleet street according to the model appointed,
from that beginning the city advanced so hastily towards a gen
eral perfection that, within the compass of a few years, it far
transcended its former splendor."

654 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
CHAPTER XLVIIL
NEW YORK'S GREAT FIRE.
That great event in the history of New York, the " Great
Fire," occurred on the night of the 16th of December, 1S35. It
was declared by the croakers of the time a damper upon the
city's prosperity and a clog to the wheels of its progress towards
its present position. But though the people lost a great part of-
their capital, they did not lose their strength, energy, and enter
prise, and the proper application of those quaUties caused their
city to rise Phoenix-like from its ashp»y more beautiful, stronger,
and fuller of Hfe than before.
At between eight and nine o'clock of the evening above stated,
the fire was discovered in the store No. 25 Merchant street, a
narrow street that led from Pearl into Exchange street, near
where the Post-office then was. The flames spread rapidly, and
at ten o'clock forty of the most valuable dry-goods stores in the
city were burned down or on fire. The narrowness of Merchant
street, and the gale which was blowing, aided the spread of the
destructive clement. It passed from building to building, leaped
across the street, between the blocks, urged by the gale and in
nowise deterred by the feeble forces opposing it. The night
was bitterly cold, and, though the firemen were most energetic,
the freezing of the hose and tho water in their defective engines,
combined with their sufferings from the weather, made their
cflbrts of little avail. Tho flames spread north and south, east
and west, until almost every building on the area bounded by
Wall, South, and Broad streets, and Coenties' slip, was burning,
gutted, or levelled to the ground. There was not a building de
stroyed on Broad street, nor on tho block on Wall street from
William to Broad street, tho fire taking an almost circular coursov
just at tho rear of the buildings on the streets named. The
scone iu tho night was one of indescribable grandeur, the glare

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 655
from the three hundred buildings that were at one time burning
brightly lighting up the whole city. In all five hundred and
thirty buildings were destroyed ; they were of the largest and
most costly description, and were filled with the most valuable
goods. The total loss, estimated at about §20,000,000, was after
wards found to be about $15,000,000. Of the buildings dest^yed
the most important were the Merchants' Exchange, the Post-
office, the offices of the celebrated bankers the Josephs, the
Aliens, and the Livingstons, the Phoenix Bank, and the building
.owned and occupied by Arthur Tappari,' then much despised for
'his anti-slavery sympathies^-The' business portion of the city
was alone that burned over, so that few poor were rendered
otherwise than without employment. '" * *A .
• - , _ _. ' ^
NEW YORK, 1845.
The greatest fire since that of December, 1835, that has devas
tatcd property in New York, began on the morning of the 20th
of July, 1845. The fire originated in the sperm oil store in New
street, near the corner of Exchange place, about three o'clock on
the morning named, and spread over a great part of the territory
which had been the scene of the conflagration of 1835. The
flames were communicated to a chair factory adjoining and nearer .
to the corner of Exchange place, whence they passed along Ex
change place to Broad street. There they enwrapped a building
in which was a quantity of saltpetre, or gunpowder, on storage.
When the building had been burning for about fifteen minutes a
most awful explosion took place, which shook the city Hke an
ear thq uake. The building was blown up, and with it some other
buildings. Immediately after the explosion fire was discovered
in four different places, and shortly the rear of the entire block
was blazing. Soon the fire leaped to the south side of Broak
street, passing at the same time to Broadway. AU this time the
fii-cmcn although making the most strenuous efforts, had effected

656 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
but Httle toward suppressing the flames. On Broadway they
spread downward toward the Bowling Green; and on Broad
street north toward Wall street and south to Beaver street, along
which they passed to New street, both sides of which had been
devastated. The fire was checked ere it had reached the magnifl-
ceul^Merchants' Exchange on its way to WaU 6treet. Both sides
of Exchange place, from Broadway to Broad street and half way
down to WilHam, were bm-ned. Every building on Broadway
fr-om Exchange place down was leveUed, and then the flames
turned into Marketfield street, where they were checked. Al
together about three hundred buildings were destroyed, among
which were the costly shrines of commerce and finance, and the
abodes of the poverty-stricken. A liberal estimate of the total loss
is made at §6,000,000, but this is beHttled when the lamentable
loss of life of wliich the explosion was the occasion is thought of.
The number of persons whose Hves were destroyed never was ac
curately ascertained ; but it was generally beheved at the time
that about six pereons perished.
A REMINISCENCE OF THE GEEAT FIRE OF 1835.
On the night of the 16th of December, 1835, 1 was sitting with
, a literary friend, about nine o'clock, in one of the private boxes of
[Iamblin's magnificent Bowery Theatre. Suddenly the big beU
of the City Hall boomed loud and long over the metropolis, and
" Fire ! fire ! " echoed around and within the theatre. We were
off in an instant, rushing out of the slamming doors, and onward
toward the scene of the conflagration, which was "glaring on
Night's startled eye " away down town.
When wc reached Wall street, near Water, tho Tontine Coffee
House had caught, and dark smoke in huge masses, tinged with
flickering flashes of bright flame, was bursting from aU tho upper
windows. The night, as all who were out in it will well remem
ber, was intensely cold. There was but Httle wind, but as the fire

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 657
advanced tliere was plainly perceptible the " food of fire " in tho
air, as I firmly beHcve there always is in all great conflagrations ;
something mysterious as yet, and unexplainable. It was so in our
great fire, for I saw its evidences myself, and I sec that reports of
the same evidences are mentioned as features of the still more
terrible and vastly greater conflagration in Chicago, which has
"roused tho world." Science, there is Httle doubt, wUl find out,
.'by and by, what this mysterious power is, and teU us how it is
worked .aud,, how it may,bejguardedaagainst, if not eonquered.
^Whether it is atmospheric or electric, or whatover"ielse it may be.
>vj« , ¦ y . y-,rfv ¦-' ,. •-, ¦ . ,:i. , "-,--',
'is yet to be determined. A word or two more concernine this a
i"- ¦ ' '¦* J ' ' ' ¦ > -
-little further on. ;,';y//'"*/';:; ' ''

Our great fire traveUed south and west faster than a man could
walk. Water froze in aU the gutters; thick ice coated the hy
drants; crunched in the hose-pipes "that' encumbered the streets,
and lay in "floes" where there was a shadow from the heat and
the flame. But in a little while no water was wanted. Engines
were soon useless, and no energetic "Sykesy" was required to
" take the butt." Clouds of smoke, Hke dark mountains suddenly
rising into the air, were succeeded by long banners of flame, rush
ing to the zenith, and roaring for their prey. Street after street
caught the terrible torrent, until over acre after acre there was
rolling and booming an ocean of flame ! " AH of this I saw, and
part of it I was." The printing-office of the Knickerbocker, at
firet in South William sti-eet, was moved three times far beyond
the prevailing fire, but was graduaUy foUowed by the raging
enemy, and finally devoured.
As we were standing upon the roof of the Exchange, looking
down upon the scene when in mid-progress, buUdings far beyond
the line of fire, and in no contact with it, burst in flames from the
interior. The same thing, I observe, happened in Chicago, and
was attributed to incendiaries; but there were no incendiaries
suspected in our great fire. What latent power enkindled tho in-

658 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
side of these advanced buildings, while externally they were un
touched ? A scientific writer at the time contended, 1 think in
tho old Daily Advertiser, that at a certain period there is'what he
called an " inflammable vacuum " in the air, which is self -igniting
and irresistible. Perhaps, a hundred years or so from now, some
safeguard against this mysterious clement, now lying latent and
sleeping in nature, may be discovered. It is not so very long
since the old tea-kettle first lifted its Hd to the science of steam,
and talking round the world under water is a much voungei
wonder. -¦<.

CHAPTER TT.TTT,
ft PITTSBURGH, 1845.
Pittsburg, Pa., was visited by a most destructive conflagration
the 10th of April, 1S45. By it a very lage portion of the city
was laid waste, and a greater number of houses destroyed than by
all the fires that had occurred previously to it. Twenty squares,
containing about 1,100 buildings were burned over. Of these
buildings the greater part were business houses containing goods
of immense value — grocery, dry-goods, and commission houses —
and the spring stocks of the latter had just been laid in. The
fire commenced in a frame building at the corner of Second and
Ferry streets, and the prevailing strong wind urged it with fear
ful rapidity through the city. So short was tho time between the
discovery of the flames and their spread through the city, that
many pereons were unable to save any of their household goods,
while others, having got theirs to the walk, were compeUed to flee
and leave them to be seized and destroyed by the element.
Tho merchants were equally unsuccessful in saving anything
from their warehouses. The loss was estimated at $10,000,000.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 659
PHILADELPHIA, 1850.
A conflagration, by which an immense amount of property was
destroyed, took place in Philadelphia, on the 9th of July, 1850.
It began about four o'clock on the afternoon of that day, in a store
at 78 North Delaware avenue. The fire was beyond control
when discovered, and soon spread, despite the most strenuous
efforts to prevent it, to tho store-houses adjoining. When the fire
had reached the ceUar of the buUding in which it had originated,
/two explosions occurred, which rent the walls of the buflding'and
'; threw flakes of combustible matter in faU directions, setting fife
-'¦¦- - - __. .._';- i-Q . /•_-<,,,r<- -' .' ' ' , . - -. . '•-*--
C to many other buildings. Delaware avenue and Water street were
covered with persons who exhibited Httle fear at these evidences
of dangerous substances being stored in the building. "' Suddenly
a third and most terrific explosion occurred, by which a number
of men, women, and children were killed, and several buildings
demoHshed. This disaster caused a panic among the firemen and
spectators, and in the efforts of all to escape fr-om danger many
were trampled upon and 'injured. Some were thrown into the
Delaware, and others jumped in to get away from the falHng
bricks and beams sent up fr-om the burning building by the explo
sion. The number of pereons who lost their Hves by the explo
sion was about thirty — nine persons who jumped into the river in
a fright were drowned — and about one hundred pereons injured.
The area over which the fire spread contained about four hun
dred buildings. Its locality was one of the most densely populated
in the city, and a large number of the residents, having been poor
people, the suffering caused was immense. The loss was about
§1 000 000, and the fire would be a comparatively smaU one had
there been no loss of Hfe. PHILADELPHIA, 1S65.
The most terrible conflagration of which Philadelphia was
the theatre, after that of July, 1S50, occurred thero on the

660 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
morning of February 8, 1865. Like its predecessor, it brought
death to many, and in the most horrible and painful manner.
The fire originated among several thousand barrels of coal-oil
that was stored upon an open lot on Washington street near
Ninth. The flames spread through the oil as if it had been gun
powder, and in a very short time, 2,000 barrels were ablaze, and
sending a huge volume of flame and smoke upward. The resi
dents of the vicinity, awakened by the noise of the bells and.
firemen, and affrighted by the glare and nearness of the fire,
rushed in their night garments into the streets that were covered
with snow and slush. The most prompt to leave their homes got
off with their Hves, but those near the spot where the fire com
menced, and not prompt to escape, were met by a terrible scene.
The blazing oil poured into Ninth street and down to Federal,
making the entire street a lake of fire that ignited the houses on
both sides of the street for two blocks. The flames also passed
up and down the cross streets, and destroyed a number of houses.
The fiery torch was whirled back and forth along the street at
tho pleasure of the wind, and as it passed destroyed everything
in or near its course. People leaving their blazing homes, hoping
to reach a place of safety, were roasted to death by it. Alto
gether, about twenty pereons were roasted in the streets or houses.
Firemen making vain endeavors to save the poor creatures from
their horrible fate were fearfully bm-ned. The loss of property
amounted to about $500,000, and fifty buildings were destroyed.
From Washington street to Federal, on Ninth, eveiy building was
burned. SAN FRANCISCO.
The city of San Francisco was retarded in its progress toward
its present proud position by many causes, but by nothing more
than fire. The most destructive of tho many conflagrations
which have occurred in that city began on the 3d of M-iy, 1851,

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 661
at eleven o'clock p.m., and was not overmastered until the 5th.
The loss that was caused by it amounted to $3,500,000, and it
destroyed 2,500 buildings. The fire began in a paint-shop on
the west side of Portsmouth Square, adjoining the Americau
House. Although but a slight blaze when discovered, the build
ing was within five minutes enwrapped with flames ; and before
the fire-engines could be got to work, the American House and
the building ou the other side of the paint-shop were also burn
ing. The buildings being all of wood and extremely combusti-
.ble, the fire spread up Clay street* back to gaqijamento, and dowri
Clay street towards Kearney, /with fearful Rapidity. -/ Soqij .the
fire department was compeUed to give up ev^ry/lattempt to eaw
'tinguish it, and to confine their work to .making its advance less.
rapid. ! ' ¦'» ' -i--: * .--..• a - . <
-Pursuing this plan, they checked the flames on the north side
at Dnpont street. But in every other direction it took its own
course, and was only arrested at the water's edge and the ruins
of the houses that had been blown up. The shipping in the
harbor was only protected by the breaking up of the wharves.
Thousands of pereons were made homeless, and for a long time
after lived in tents. The custom-house, seven hotels, the post-
office, the offices of the steamship company, and the banking-
house of Page, Bacon & Co. were destroyed. During the con
tinuance of the fire a number of pereons were burned, and others
died from their exertions toward subduing it.
Another large fire devastated a great portion of San Francisco
in June, 1851. It occurred on the 22d of that month, and 500
buildings were destroyed by it. The loss was estimated at
$3,000,000. PORTLAND (ME.), 1866.
The terrible fire which laid in ruins more than half of the city
of Portland, Me., commenced at five o'clock on the afternoon of
38

662 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
the 4th of July, 1866. Beginning in a cooper's shop, at the foot
of High street, caused by a fire-cracker being thrown among
some wood shavings, it swept through the city with frightful ra
pidity. With difficulty did the inhabitants of the bouses in its
path escape with their lives. Little effort was made to save
household goods when this saving involved a possibility of death.
Everything in the track of the flames was destroyed ; and so com
pletely, that when they had been overcome even the streets could
hardly be traced. For a space of one mile and a half long by
a quarter of a mile wide, there seemed a straggling forest of
chimneys, with parts of their walls attached. From the place of
beginning the fire was swept by a violent gale in a devious way,:
sparing nothing in its passage until it was checked by the ruins
of the houses which had been blown up. The utmost endeavors of
the firemen of the city, aided by those from other cities and towns,
Were of little avail until the plan of blowing up had been carried
out, and then only to prevent the fire from spreading, and cause
it for want of fuel to burn out. One-half of the city, and the
one which included its business portion, was destroyed. Every
bank and all the newspaper offices were burned ; and it is some
what singular to note that all the lawyers' offices in the city were
swept away. The splendid city and county building on Congress
street was considered fire-proof and safe, and was filled with fur
niture from the neighboring houses, and then the flames catching
it laid it in ruins. All the jewelry establishments, the wholesale
dry-goods houses, several churches, the telegraph offices, and the
majority of other business places were destroyed. The custom
house, though badly burned, was not destroyed. Most singularly
a building on Middle street, occupied by a hardware firm, was
left unscathed by the sea of flame which surged and devastated
all around it.
Two thousand persons were rendered houseless, and were shel
tered in churches and tents erected for them.

IN CinCAGO AND THE WEST. 663
In all, the loss was estimated at $10,000,000, which was but
<h small part covered by insurance.
CHARLESTON, 1838.
Charleston, S. C, was, on the 27th of April, 1838, visited by
one of the most destructive fires that have ever occurred in any
city in this country. A territory equal to almost one-half of the
ys'+i'sfihtj »>ii ij|'. mil ,•--_:'-«¦?> tv«t~ .'¦«i,.>--i'»u'J v j • " _.' -•_.' '.v'hh ?«*---*
^entire city was made desolate. The fire broke out at a quarter

buildings destroyed, and the loss occasioned was about $3,000,000.
The worst feature of the catastrophe was the loss of life which
occurred while the houses were being blown' up. Through the
careless manner in which the gunpowder was used, four of the
most prominent citizens of the city were killed and a number
injured. Chicago, 1857, 1859, 1866, 1868.
On the morning of the 10th of October, 1857, a fire occurred
in Chicago, which, though notable from the amount of property
destroyed by it, was made awful by the loss of human life which
it caused. The fire broke out in a large double store in South
Water street, aud spread east and west to the buildings adjoin
ing, and across an alley in the rear to a block of new buildings.
All these were completely destroyed. When the flames were
threatening one of the buildings, a number of persons ascended
to its roof to there fight against them. Wholly occupied with
their work, they did not notice that the wall of the burning
building tottered, and, when warned of their danger, they could
not escape ere it fell, crushing through the house on which they
were and carrying them into its cellar. Of the number four-

664 HISTORY OF THE GREAT FIRES
teen were killed and more injured. The loss in property caused
by the fire amounted to over half a million of dollars.
A fire, the most disastrous after that of October, 1857, took
place on September 15, 1859. It broke out in a stable, and,
spreading in different directions, consumed the block bounded
by Clinton, North Canal, West Lake, and Fulton streets, on
which the stable was situated. From this block the fire was
communicated to Blatchford's lead works and to the hydraulic
mills, whence it passed to another block of buildings, aU of
which were destroyed. The total loss was about five hundred
thousand dollars. . ' . .,.!'- - . _ /: "•.". .'_; /l/l/^ /"'/'*/
Property to the amount of $500,000 was destroyed by fire on
the 10th of August, 1866. The fire originated in a wholesale
tobacco establishment on South Water street, and passed to the
adjoining buildings, occupied by wholesale grocery and drug
firms. The firet two buildings and contents were utterly, while
the other was but partially, destroyed.
A fire, which destroyed several large business houses on Lake
and South Water streets, took place November 18, 1866. It
originated in the tobacco warehouse of Banker & Co., and the
loss caused by it was about $500,000.
The fire which occurred on the 28th of January, 1868, was
the most destructive by which Chicago had ever been visited.
It broke out in a large boot and shoe factory on Lake street, and
destroyed the entire block on which that building was situated.
The sparks from those buildings set fire to others distant from
them on the same street, and caused their destruction. In aU the
loss was about $3,000,000.

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 665
CHAPTER Ii.
TABLE OF FORMER GREAT FIRES.
Norfolk, "Va., destroyed by fire and the cannon-balls of the
British. Property to the amount of $1,500,000 destroyed. Jan
uary 1, 1776. .' • _> -..= ,".;.''- „• '!-..; ;.,- -._,';;¦' ¦ >.,. .
rt.City of New York^ soon after passing into possession of the
British; 500 buUdings consumed^lS^tember^O^&^r^Te.;^^.
ifc.Theatre at Richmond, ValiThe'gbvernor.of this State aii a
*"¦'-».,.» "" ' jpPjM '-_- '.'¦¦: ;-fMmfa
large number of .the leading 'inhabitants' perishedr^Decembw
26, 1811. y > '¦-£¦' -.:-¦ •>HW^?^^S^fSl^^^:'^^
City of New York; 530 buildings destroyed ; loss, $20,000,000;
December 16, 1835. '>' ' ' ><*:/. -" .',"•", -,*<*_-.•.>*
Washington City; General Post Office and Patent Office, with
over ten thousand valuable models, drawings, etc., destroyed.
December 15, 1836.
Philadelphia; fifty-two buildings destroyed; loss, $500,000.
October 5, 1839.
Quebec, Canada ; 1,500 buildings and many Hves destroyed.
May 28, 1845.
Quebec, Canada ; 1,300 buildings destroyed. June 28, 1845.
City of New York ; 300 buildings destroyed ; loss, $6,000,000.
June 20, 1845.
St. John's, N. F., nearly destroyed ; 6,000 people made home
less. June 12, 1846.
Quebec, Canada ; Theatre Eoyal ; 47 pereons burned to death.
June 14, 1846.
Nantucket; 3(0 buildings and other property destroyed ; value,
$800,000. July 13, 1846.
At Albany ; 600 buildings, steamboats, piers, etc., destroyed ;
loss, $3,000,000. August 17, 1848.
Brooklyn ; 300 buildings destroyed. September 9, 1848.

666 HISTORY OF TOE GEEAT FIRES
At St. Louis, 15 blocks of houses and 23 steamboats ; loss esti
mated at $3,000,000. May 17, 1849.
Fredericton, N. B. ; about 300 buildings destroyed. Novem
ber 11, 1S50.
Nevada, Cal.; 200 buildings destroyed; loss, $1,300,000.
March 12, 1851.
At Stockton, Cal.; loss, $1,500,000. May 14, 1851.
Concord, N. H. ; greater part of the business portion of the
town destroyed. August 24, 1850. '• y
Congressional Library at Washington, 35,000 volumes, with
works of art, destroyed. December 24,1851. ; -¦ ¦- ' y--*-;.
At Montreal, Canada, 1,000 houses destroyed; loss, $5,000,000. j
July 8, 1852.
Harper Brothers' establishment, in New York; loss over
$1,000,000. December 10, 1853.
Metropolitan Hall and Lafarge House, in this city. January
8, 1854.
At Jersey City, 30 factories and houses destroyed. July 30,
1854. More than 100 houses and factories in Troy, N. Y. ; on the
same day a large part of Milwaukee, Wis., destroyed. August
25, 1854.
At Syracuse, N. Y., about 100 buildings destroyed; loss, $1,-
000,000. November 8, 1856.
New York Crystal Palace destroyed. October 5, 1858.
City of Charleston, S. C, almost destroyed. February 17,
1856. At Quebec, Canada, 2,500 houses destroyed; loss, $2,500,000.
CONCLUSION.
The tales of horror with which this book is filled are relieved
by the deeds of heroism and mercy which have been faithfully
rehearsed. Human experieiice repeats itself from age to age

IN CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 667
The tiling that is, is that which hath been and shall be, so that
there is nothing new under the sun. Lessons of human in
sufficiency, and weakness and vanity, mingle with lessons of man's
greatness and nobleness. The heart turns to God in the midst of
all this confusion and unrest, and finds unchangeable perfection,
excellence, beauty, and joy. Though vanity of vanities is written
on all that is earthly, there is in God pure satisfaction, absolute
test for every soul that seeks Him with a sincere purpose. - *r "/"

COBBIN'S
ILLUSTRATED NEW TESTAMENT.
cr._TT____rr_!<J
Tie AnUiorized Translation of tie New Testament of onr Lord ani Saviour Jesus
CM; witl Notes,
By INGRAM C O B B I N, M.A.,
Author of " CobblrCa Domestic Bible," " CobbirCa Commentary^ " Child's Commentator,'" ttc., <£c
To which has been added, for the purpose of making the book of the utmost practical value to Bible
students,
A BIOGRAPHY OF THE WBITERS, AS WELL A3 OP THE PROMINENT MEN AND "WOMEN
OP THE NEW TESTAMENT; AN ANALYSIS OP THE GOSPELS, SHOWING THEIR
MUTUAL RELATIONS; A HISTORY OP THE ENGLISH TRANSLATION
OP THE BIBLE ; A COMPLETE HARMONY OF THE GOSPELS,
AND LIFE OF JESUS THE CHRIST.
ILLUSTRATIVE TABLES DELATING CHIEFLY TO THE NEW TESTAMENT, TTZ. :
The Miracles of Christ. Parables of Jesus. The Discourses of Jesus, &c, &c
All of which will be found of great value in. '* searching the Scriptures/"
ILLUSTRATED WITH OVER 100 ENGRAVINGS.
INCLUDING TWELVE PICTORIAL PABABLES.
The numerous editions of superbly illustrated Bibles brought out within the past few years, evince
the desire of the religious public to acquire instruction in its most attractive form. Of IBLJ7S-
TltAl'JED TESTAMENTS, however, the present Work is the only one no to before
the Atnericitn Public. Eminently adapted to the wants of youth, both on account of its em
bellishments and the simplicity of its explanatory notes, and yet not unmindful of the wants of the
general reader of maturer years, Cobbin's Illustrated Testament has been received with uni
versal fuvor. The name of Cobbin as a Comrm ntntor, both for the old and young, has become a
hou?chuld word in both hemispheres. The Illustrated Testament is designed for Youth, for the
Family Fireside, and for the Sabbath School. For advanced youth and for Bible Classes, the work
will serve admirably as a text-book and as a commentary. TJte Notes are not of an abstruse
r./tnrttcter, but designed rather to attract the attention of youth and enlist their interest in biblical
knowledge, as well as increase their store of general histoiy. Recognizing the fact of the strongest
appeaN to the mind being made through the organ of vision, we have presented, regardless of cost,
the most complete sec of illustrations, over one hundred in number, suitable for such a work. The
work has received the unqualified praise of the most distinguished clergymen of all denominations,
both in Europe and America.
Sunday-School as well as Bible-Class Teachers will find this to be the book for which they have so
long looked in vain. The Publishers present it to the great army of Sunday-School Scholars as a
work of more practical value to them than any other book published.
The Xotes are very full, and written so that they may be understood by all; and, what is stiU
better, they arc NOT SECTARIAN.
IT IS A. BOOK FOB THE BEOBBE. and the Publishers believe it will receive a
hearty welcome ut every fireside from Maine to Texas.

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"Most Remarkable Book of the Age."

THE HAND OF GOD IN HISTORY;
OR,
DiYine Providence Historically Illustrated,
IN THE EXTENSION AND ESTABLISHMENT OF CHRISTIANITY.
By Her. HOLLIS BEAD,
Author of "India and Its People," "Palace of the Great King," "Commerce and Christianity,",
"The Coming CrUis," "Memoirs and Sermon* of Bev. Dr. Armstrong."

That all the people of the earth might know the hand of the Lord, that it is mighty."
q *$* w .*%**$ i^: $_M£y. -..-.^is "1}1[""k il^^^|fe^£%^iF^ ^
: .'. History, when rightly written, Is bat a record of Providence ; and he who would read history
¦• rightly, most read It with his eye constantly fixed on the hand of Ood. Every change, every revo-
lotion in human affairs, is, In the mind of God, a movement to the cororainfflifttlon of the great work
of redemption. There la, ho doubt, at the present time a growing tenden cy so to write, and » to
understand history. "The history of the world Is gradually losing itself in the history of the
church." " The fall history of the world la a history of redemption." " "In tab period of the his
tory Of redemption, not even when preparing the fulness of time for the Messiah's advent, has the
providence of God been more marked than of late yean, in its bearing oh the extension of the Re
deemer's kingdom." " The providence of God in respect to this work," says another, "would form
one of the most interesting chapters in the history of His government."
44 To the casual observer of Providence, to the ordinary reader of this world's history, the whble
appears like a chaos of incidents, no thread, no system, no line of connection running through it.
One course of events is seen here, and another there. Kingdoms rise on the stage one after another,
and become great and powerful, and then pass away and are forgotten. And the history of the
church seems scarcely less a chaos than the world. Changes are continually going on within it and
around it, and these apparently without much order." "
Yet all is not a chaos. The Christian student, with his eye devoutly fixed on the Hand of God,
looks out upon the world, and back on the field of its history, and takes altogether a different view.
What before seemed so chaotic and disorderly, now puts on the appearance of system and form. All
is animated by one soul, and that seal is Providence.
Perhaps, as never before, the minds of the most sagacious writers of our age are watching with
profound and pious interest the progress of human events. The author of " The Hand of God in
History," imbued with the Spirit of Divine Philosophy, takes his post of observation at the cross of
Christ as the centre of providential agencies, and thence surveys the broad and interesting field of
history ; and following the paths of its triumphs in its circuit among the nations, marks the Hand of
God in the extension and establishment of Christianity. His aim has been to make fehe work histor
ical, yet so abounding in narrative, anecdote,, biography, and in tho delineations of men and "things
in real life as to commend it to the general reader ; and at the same time to reveal at every step the
Hand of God overruling the events of history, to snbserve His one great end.
Entering the laboratory of the grent Architect, a variety of facts are made to illustrate the
theme. In the vostness of the material universe, God appears in all tho majesty of His omnipo
tence ; and in His providential government over this vast machine, we, perhaps, get a clearer and
more comprehensive idea of the infinitude of tho Divine mind and power than in any other way.
The reader, recalled from a countless number of worlds, is invited to contemplate the profuse manner
in which God has stocked our planet with life in every conceivable variety, and with what profusion
He has supplied the wants of all His creatures.
The publishers believe this work to be timely, and offer it to the world as the production of one of
che best American writers ; and as a most valuable contribution to rescue history from the melan
choly abuse under which it has lain almost to the present time. It is a book that all should have,
and should be read especially by the young of our land, so that the foundations for reading hlirtory
aright may be laid in early life.
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HANDWRITING OF GOD
— m —
EGYPT, SINAI, AND THE HOLY LAND.

The "Record of a Journey from the Great Talley of the West to
the Sacred Places of the J^ast.
By IRE'V. D- .A.. RANDALL.
With Haps, Diageams, and Numeiiot/9 Illustrations, Constructed expressly for this work by
the accomplished Artist Mr. C. L. Rawson, who has spent Seven Tears in
the Holy Land, Egypt, and the Sinaitic Peninsula.

"The Universe is the Handwriting of God, and ail Objects are Words in it."
"We are most h appy to announce that this wonderful Book, agreeably to the Publisher's expectations.
Is meeting with an enthusiastio reception at the hands of the people, it having already reached its
Sixtieth edition. - .
This work, prepared with much care and labor, and at great expense, comprises the results of the
author's personal observations and patient investigations in the various localities described. While
possessing in a peculiar manner the dignity and importance of Truth, it is written in such a fascinating
and popular style, as cannot fail to captivate all classes of renders. It embraces incidents of Travel,
Biographical and Historical Sketches — portrays the past and present condition of these Sacred Lands,
as ivell as the Manners and Customs of their inhabitants .* and tracing, through the Records of past
agps, the wonderful dealings of Divine Providence in those countries that have been the scene of the
most stupendous events that have transpired in the History of the Hnman Race. It unfolds, in the
clearest light, the Testimony of the Lands of the Bible to the Truth of that Sacred Volume on which
our Holy Religion is founded.
This Book is designed to connect with the Scenes and Places visited, the most striking and instruc
tive Historic Events with which they are identified, to draw such illustrations of Sacred Scriptures as
serve to bring out more clearly the meaning of the Inspired Writers, and to enforce those important moral
lessons which their past history and present condition are fitted and designed to suggest. There is
much yet to be learned from the new disclosures that are being continually made in these ancient and
sacred localities. The discoveries of Robinson. Layard, Rawlinson, and others, have inaugurated a
new era in the study of Sacred History. It has been their privilege to decipher for us, in some measure,
that record which has been preserved in the sculptured tablets of nations now extinct, and amid the
crumbling pile? and mo=s-grown mounds of ruined cities. Over these memorials of the past, the de
solations of war have rolled ; the foot of tbe ruthless barbarian has trampled upon them ; the elements
of nature have combined for their destruction : and yet, during the long lapse of ages, the eye of an
Omniscient God has wacched over them, and His almighty arm has preserved them, till in His own
appointed time He draws aside the veil, and now the Valley of the Nile uncovers his hieroglyphics to
confirm and illustrate the sacred page, and Nineveh, out of the wreck and rubbish of three thousand
years, yields up its ruins to corroborate and glcrify the Hebrew Oracles — Testimony of that other Re
cord — the word of the Eternal Jehovah.
None can be too familiar with those things, for they speak to us with solemn and impressive voice.
Where maps and diagrams were necessary to illustrate the text, they have been prepared; and the
illustrations have been selected because they ore illustrations.
The Artist, Mr. C. L. Rawson, acknowledged by all to be more thoroughly acquainted with Bible
Lards than any other living man, has given the results of his labors in the Haps, Diagrams, Facsim
iles of inscriptions and illustrations with which this work abounds. The Maps and Diagrams are
constructed for the most part from actual surveys, and the Facsimiles and Illustrations from Photo
graphs taken on the spot. These things have added materially to the expense of the book, but it is
believed will be of great value to the reader.

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A Storehouse of Biblical Knowledge I A Volume of Inestimable Valne to the Christian Student!!
The Book of Books, with Aids to Its Study and an Illustrative Dictionary Combined!!!
THE COMPREHENSIVE
FAMILY BIBLE;
CONTAINI2TG THE
Old and New Testaments,

WITH FULL AND COMPLETE

IMNAL REFERENCES, NOTES, 'ft READINGS

, il«lUU|

*i'; .-. , ) y >..•.$?* .. :-t^.f: «,y*%M0':Ajn> ram ¦¦ ri^ftvrfa?' -itfgt, %y£fr<7:Vfr x.
y ^'Apocrypha,' ' Psa!ms*m ' Metre',*ana 'Concordance, i
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*BiA.C:KWOO_D*slc6:^
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''-, ;''J> » ¦ '. j -.'."; lA*- "zmbbaoiho -i "-¦£"-, o* V** *V'T*'" ":.'V ' * ''¦i'V7--r'*'
The Evidences of the Genuineness, Authenticity, Inspiration, 'Preservation and Valne" of the Word
of God ; Full Chronological Tables of the Successive Periods of Bible History ; Analytical Table of
Prophecies ; the Date of Writing, Authorship, and Characteristics of all the Sacred Books ; the
Christian Dispensation as Revealed in the Old Testament; a Harmony of the Four Gospels ;
the Names and Titles of the Son of God and of the Holy Spirit ; Tables of the Miracles and
Parables of the Old and New Testaments, and of the Discourses of Our Lord ; Lives of
the Apostles ; Explanation of the Symbolical Language ; besides much Equally
Invaluable Tabular and Paragraph Matter. Compiled and Edited
BY REV. WILLIAM BLACKWOOD, D.D., LL.D.,
New and Improved Dictionary of the Bible,
Containing, in Alphabetical Order, with the Scripture References, Biographies of the Persons,
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Ceremonies, Customs, Antiquities, Costumes. Beasts, Birds, Insects, Plants, Minerals,
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The "Whole Compiled from the most Reliable Ancient and Modern Autho
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BY REV. ALFRED NEVIN, D.D.,
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With Sixteen Fine Steel Plates, 1? our Illustrative Maps in Colors, and more than Two Hundred
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ACCURATE, RELIABLE, AND COMPLETE,
THE BOOK FOR THE TIMES.

THE YEAR OF BATTLES
A HISTORY OF THE GREAT WAR
Between France and Germany;
Its Origin, Causes, Mistory > Siographies of 'Us Leaders , Condition and prepara
tion of Ihe Two Countries, Sattles and Hesults.
By L. P. BB.OCKETT, _JLD.,
Author of History of the Civil Wab ___¦ America; Camp, Battle- Fr____D, akd Hospital;
Woman's Woek in the Crm. W____, eta, etc
WITH ABOUT ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY MAPS AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

EMBRACING, AJ_,30 A COMPLETE HIStOB* 03? ' "•'
Paris oJer tie Coulee; or, tie Refl Selellioi of 1871.
A SECOND REIGN OF TERROR, MURDER, AND MADNESS.
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intensely interesting; are the work of a man who has gone step by step over the movements of the
various Army Corps and Divisions in each battle, and comprehend the significance of each. It is no
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THE NEEDLE-GUN, which has formed an important feature of the War, is shown by a Diagram
of twenty parts.

THE GEEAT BATTLES OF THE WAR
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COBBIHST'S
Child's Commentator

ON THE

BIBLE.
FOR THE HOME CIECLE.
By INGRAM COBBIN. ,
xUi'-m. — ' — :  -—  — - .;¦¦•'. v- -a;^ _
Although this work is designed more especially for children and youth, it will
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y the besb Commentary on the Bible published for- the great mass of Bible readers.
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T ~H. E
POETS AND POETRY
OP THE
BIBLE. By GEO. GILFILLAN.
With an Introduction to the American Edition, by L. P. BE00KETT, M.D.
BEAUTIFULLY ILLUSTRATED.

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A New, Important, and Valuable Book !
DISEASES
OF THE
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THEIR TREATMENT, WITH A LIST AND FULL DESCRIPTION
OF THE MEDICINES EMPLOYED.
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eylvonia State Agricultural Society, etc, etc , yy ;,, Vy '„i"£ ' *"'
With Numerous Illustrations. -: \ i:{ Tf ,v,f;;'i Jfi
One volume, 413 pages, 12 mo. Clotli, price 82 OO.M '*'£
A reliable, concise, clearly written book, giving the diseases and treatment of each animal under
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It impresses all, at first sight, with its importance and value. ¦¦'¦'¦¦•¦*¦ - - l_t>' '-s *' - v
It is the product of an experienced and skilful veterinarian.
All the diseases known to veterinary practice are treated of. " j
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\ All the medicines — their nature and quality— are set forth.
It is a work that will become unprecedentedly popular.
It is altogether modern, practical, and comphrehensive.
fort Ifiij can Afford to le Wittat !
EVERYBODY'S LAWYER
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BOOK OF FOEMS.
By FRANK CROSBY, Esq.,
MEIEBER OF THE PHILADELPHIA BAB.
ENLARGED AND THOROUGHLY REVISED TO DATE.
By S. J. VANDERSLOOT, Esq., > . ¦.^.<c__j
MEMBER OF THE PHILADELPHIA BAB.
Otic vol., 60S pp., Iffmo. Law style, $2 00 f Full Sheep, $2 25,
The high position heretofore maintained by EVERYBODY'S LAWYER as The People's Great
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No effort or expense has been spared in adapting it to the requirements of the times, and the use of
every individual throughout the country ; and few books now published contain an equal amount of
really valuable information for tho people. It directly concerns tho property, business, individual
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and attractiveness of iU .ityie, as well aa its cheapness, make it the most desirable of all Legal
Handbooks.

" An Ounce of Prevention is worth a Pound of Cure."

Co

THE CHOLERA
Its Cause, Prevention, aii Cure.

a:

^ L. P. BROCKETT, M.D.
Qg being a complete guide in the prevention as well as the CUBE §"
-t— op the scourge, devoid op the UNINTELLIGIBLE TEBMS »j
<» USUAL IN MEDICAL BOOKS, AND WRITTEN 60 . ~.
"q THAT THE PEOPLE MAY UNDERSTAND IT. ' . S~
to The work which we offer has been prepared with great care and re- . 5".
ts search, by an experienced and skilful phyaioian, thoroughly familiar c2 '¦
53 with the whole subject, and who'has hJTnaglf suffered from the disease,' "*§.
c^ as well as observed it in a large number of cases. It embodies the accu- : d
co mulated wisdom and science in the prevention and treatment of this ter- cS"
ca rible disease, of the most eminent physicians of Europe and America, ^
-2?, and while the author does not believe a cure always possible, he puts at S_
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* stamped out, and kept out of any community, and the saving to the ^
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^~> No work so complete and trustworthy as this, and so well adapted for ^_
<a all classes, has been or is likely to be published, and agents can feel the g
~§ fullest confidence in recommending it, as it has been submitted to some ^ o-
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of the most eminent physicians in the country, and has received their

h

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This preservation photocopy was made by the
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Library and complies with the copyright
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1995

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