"In the excitement of this hour it is no time to deal in sentimental reflections. The scenes of the past night are too fresh to warrant lengthy dwelling upon the morale of the occurrence. It is sufficient that it is distinctly understood that the catastrophe was more the result of insufficient means of egress from the theater than was the primary cause of the development of the fire, although the latter, aided by the first and helped on by the panic stricken people, who from the outset appreciated the terrible position in which they were placed, augmented to a large degree the number of deaths.
"Chicago theaters as a general thing are tinder boxes into which humanity are packed by avaricious managers without any regard to their safety or thought of the imminent risk which is nightly impending. Evidently their only desire is to fill the house, gather in as much money as possible, while they take no heed to the dangers which surround their patrons on every hand.
"The lesson had to be taught some time, it was inevitable; it had to be located at some one of the places of amusement, although all of them were—and those remaining are still—liable to share the same fate at any moment. If the experience of one should teach the others a little wisdom, the existing evil may perhaps be remedied, although it shall have been at the sacrifice of human life.
FIRE! FIRE!
"The gallery was overflowing and the gate that opened to the stairway which led to the floor below, as usual, was locked, so that those who bought cheap tickets could not make their way to higher-priced sections on the lower floor. In the uppermost gallery—where the 'gods' are supposed to assemble, and from which comes much of the inspiration which upholds the ambitious actor and transports the ranting comedian and raging tragedian to the seventh heaven of bliss—in this gallery there was a motley crowd.
"They were there in large numbers, because the play had something that savored of blood; there was a broadsword combat and a murder scene. For reasons the very antitheses of these were the people downstairs drawn thither—there were love scenes and heart-burnings and statuesque posings, and artistic excellencies of varied kinds. It was a play that touched the feelings of humanity, the vulgar as well as the refined.
BEFORE THE DISASTER.
"The auditorium was ablaze with light, the audience were lit up with gaiety. Handsome women, richly clad, ogled one another and cast coquettish glances at dashing gentlemen. Fond mothers, chaperoning blooming daughters, chatted pleasantly, while indulgent fathers, although seeking relief from the cares of the day in the charming play, found neighbors near at hand with whom to discuss sordid business or perplexing politics.
THE HOLOCAUST.
"As has been stated, the house was filled with spectators. When the premonition of the impending disaster had been given out, and after the first great thrill of horror had, for the instant, frozen the blood of every spectator and caused an involuntary check to every heart, there came quickly the manifestation of a determination to 'do or die,' to escape from the angry flames if possible. And with this determination came the positive assurance of the growing calamity, through the person of one of the actors, who but a short time previous had been playing the buffoon, setting staid people agape with amusement and turning dull care into festivity. Hastily drawing the foot of the curtain back from the proscenium pillars, he thrust his blanched countenance into view and screamed with terrified voice: