CHAPTER IX.
The Dead and the Wounded—Moans of Anguish in the Police Station—Caring for Friend and Foe—Counting the Cost—A City’s Sympathy—The Death List—Sketches of the Men—The Doctors’ Work—Dynamite Havoc—Veterans of the Haymarket—A Roll of Honor—The Anarchist Loss—Guesses at their Dead—Concealing Wounded Rioters—The Explosion a Failure—Disappointment of the Terrorists.
THE scene at the Desplaines Street Station was one which would appal the stoutest heart. Every available place in the building was utilized, and one could scarcely move about the various rooms without fear of accidentally touching a wound or jarring a fractured limb. In many instances mangled Anarchists were placed side by side with injured officers. The floors literally ran with blood dripping and flowing from the lacerated bodies of the victims of the riot. The air was filled with moans from the dying and groans of anguish from the wounded. As the news had spread throughout the city of the terrible slaughter, wives, daughters, relatives and friends of officers as well as of Anarchists, who had failed to report at home or to send tidings of their whereabouts, hastened to the station and sought admission. Being refused, these set up wailing and lamentations about the doors of the station, and the doleful sounds made the situation all the more sorrowful within.
Everything in the power of man was done to alleviate the suffering and to make the patients as comfortable as possible. Drs. Murphy, Lee and Henrotin, department physicians, were energetically at work, and, with every appliance possible, administered comparative relief and ease from the excruciating pains of the suffering. The more seriously wounded, when possible, were taken to the Cook County Hospital. Throughout the night following the riot, the early morning and the day succeeding, the utmost care was given the patients, and throughout the city for days and weeks the one inquiry, the one great sympathy, was with reference to the wounded officers and their condition. The whole heart of the city was centered in their recovery. Everywhere the living as well as the dead heroes were accorded the highest praise. The culprits who had sought to subvert law and order in murder and pillage were execrated on all hands. For days and weeks, the city never for a moment relaxed its interest. From the time the men had been brought into the station, it was long a question as to how many would succumb to their wounds. Care and attention without ceasing served to rescue many from an untimely grave; but even those who were finally restored to their families and friends, crippled and maimed as they were, hovered between life and death on a very slender thread through many a restless night and weary day and through long weeks and agonizing months. The devotion of friends and the skill of physicians nerved the men to strength and patience. That only eight should have died out of so great a number as were mangled, lacerated and shattered by the powerful bomb and pierced by bullets, attests the merits of the treatment.
The only one who was almost instantly killed was Officer Mathias J. Degan. The following list will serve to show the names of the officers killed and wounded, the stations they belonged to, their residences, the nature of their wounds, their condition and other circumstances:
Mathias J. Degan—Third Precinct, West Lake Street Station; residence, No. 626 South Canal Street. Almost instantly killed. He was born October 29, 1851, and joined the police force December 15, 1884. He was a widower, having lost his wife just before joining the force, and left a young son. He was a brave officer, efficient in all his duties, and highly esteemed.
Michael Sheehan—Third Precinct; residence, No. 163 Barber Street. Wounded in the back just below the ninth rib. The bullet lay in the abdomen, and, after its removal by the surgeon, he collapsed and died on the 9th of May. He was twenty-nine years of age, born in Ireland, and came to America in 1879. He joined the force December 15, 1884, and had only one relative in America, a brother, his parents still living in the old country. He was a very bright, prompt and efficient officer, and had excellent prospects before him. He was unmarried.
George Muller—Third Precinct; residence, No. 836 West Madison Street; was shot in the left side, the bullet passing down through the body and lodging on the right side above the hip bone. He suffered more than any of the others and was in terrible agony. He would not consent to an operation, and finally his right lung collapsed, making his breathing very difficult. He expired on the 6th of May. He was twenty-eight years of age. Born in Oswego, N. Y., where his parents lived, and to which place his remains were sent. Muller, on coming to Chicago, began as a teamster, and became connected with the Police Department December 15, 1884, being assigned for duty at the Desplaines Street Station. He was a finely built, muscular young man, and became quite a favorite with his associates because of his quiet habits and genial manners. At the time of his death he was engaged to Miss Mary McAvoy.
John J. Barrett—Third Precinct; residence, No. 99 East Erie Street; was shot in the liver, from which a piece of shell was removed, and he had a bad fracture of the elbow. The heel bone of one leg was carried away. With so many serious wounds, he lay in the hospital almost unconscious until the day of his death, May 6. He was born in Waukegan, Ill., in 1860, and came to Chicago with his parents when only four years of age. Here he attended the public schools, and then learned the molder’s trade, which he abandoned on January 15, 1885, to join the police force, being assigned to duty at the Desplaines Street Station. He was a brave and efficient officer and always ready to do his part in any emergency. He had been married only a few months preceding his death, and left a wife, a widowed mother, three sisters and a younger brother.