A Letter From the Fire: Being an Account of the Great Chicago Fire.

by Thomas Dove Foster

Before going further I will explain why I crossed the river again, and what we did. To do this I must give you an idea of the place. I remember once before giving you a rough outline of Chicago. I will do so again. [See illustration.]

The bars across the river represent the turn bridges. 1 is where the fire commenced, 2 where I crossed the river the first time, 3 where I crossed the second, 4 where I crossed the third, 5 where I finally drew up and left my clothes. The wind was blowing in the direction from 1 to 6, so I thought the fire would wear out at the lake, and not be able to cross the river to the North Side. In this I was mistaken, for when I went to look at the fire, after deposing our things at the express-man’s house, as before stated, we found the bridge we had just crossed was on fire, and that the North Side was doomed unless the wind changed (this was three o’clock) so we turned back to move our traps again. Whilst walking up, we met a man pulling a large trunk. We helped him along to where we were staying, hired a boy with a waggon who drove over to the West Side, crossing bridge at number 4. Here we considered ourselves safe, put down our luggage on the side walk, and sat on it ’till daylight. We asked a man to let us into his house but he refused. It was here that my warm underclothing and heavy overcoat stood to me. The wind was brisk and keen; had I been lightly clothed, I might have taken a severe cold—fortunately I escaped. This place was partly on the prairie, so had a splendid view of the fire at large, although fully three miles from it. The smallest print could be read with ease, the light was so intense. As day dawned the light faded, but daylight revealed the volumes of black smoke rolling up from the city, and the ruins of the previous night’s destruction. The fire was now sweeping the North Side entirely unchecked, the waterworks being burnt and no water in the town. I felt very hungry by this time, and hailed with delight the taking down of the first shutter of a small grocery store. I got some dry biscuits and ate them with a relish—something wonderful. As there was a dirt waggon passing, our last named friend and myself stopped it, put in our things, got on top of them, and requested the driver to take us to a place my friend knew.

He accomodated us, and drew up at a very good looking general store in a small settlement on the prairie, shown as number 5 on the map. It ought to be farther out, but the paper won’t admit it. We gave our baggage in charge of the owners, and left them.

In walking back to the city we met a gentleman who was acquainted with my fellow traveller. He wished us to call at his house and have breakfast. We did so, and a good one it was; the house was all upset, getting their things packed up, little of which I am afraid was saved. Walking citywards, the road was crowded with all sorts of vehicles carrying furniture of every description; the road was littered with furniture, pianos, beds and so forth in indescribable confusion; drivers of waggons would engage to take it out some distance on the prairie, get their money first before they started, then would only go a little way, tumble it out on the road, return and repeat the operation, on someone else.

I now wanted to get to Mr. Small’s house, to learn what I could about Mr. Kenny. When I got to the city I found all the bridges that I have starred, burnt up, so had to make a long detour, going all round the burnt district. His house is on the South Side where I put a cross. I arrived there at eleven o’clock lost in dirt, blended with dust and smoke. Not a drop of water in the house to wash with. Mr. Small told me to consider it (his house) my home until I could find something else. I took a bucket, went to the lake and brought it back full of water and felt better for it. (This was eleven-thirty A.M.) Up to this time nothing was heard of Mr. Kenny. I felt rather uneasy, as it was much easier for him to get there than for me, and I fully expected finding him there when I arrived. I was also astonished to find the South Side still burning; the fire was creeping up against the wind at the rate of a house every five minutes. At that calculation Small’s house would be burnt at three o’clock. Of course he was very uneasy and sent his wife and baby away; if the wind changed in the opposite direction he would be cleared out much sooner. At two o’clock we walked down together and found the flames stopped by blowing up of several streets of houses. The North Side was swept out clear and clean, right into the country, burning up Lincoln Park and a Catholic Cemetery. Seventy-five thousand people resided on the North Side, and every house with one exception was burned to the ground, not even the walls standing. Altogether one hundred thousand people were rendered homeless, and had to camp out on the prairie without any covering for two days and two nights, having little to eat and scarcely any water to drink. This is something awful to think of. Delicate people, young children of all classes, huddled together without any comforts; a great many people died, and no wonder. However, they are all pretty well provided for now, supplies are plentiful, the only fear is that the charity will be abused.

The fire lasted thirty-six hours, during that time clearing everything before it for a distance of five and a half miles, commencing in a point, and finishing two miles in width; about fifty thousand tons of coal caught fire, which burned for a week quite bright, always keeping the sky aglow with its light. It is still burning but no fire can be seen. I must add here that Mr. Kenny did not turn up the whole afternoon, and I began to fear the worst. However he made his appearance between seven and eight o’clock, all safe and sound and relieved my mind. Next day the city was put under martial law, General Sheridan commanding. I was made a patrol between twelve and four o’clock at night with Small; this was to prevent ruffians from firing other places. Several of them were caught and immediately shot, or hung up to some lamp post. The city was without water ten days and fourteen without gas, so it presented a miserable appearance.

Mr. Kenny and myself went to the lake twice a day, and brought as much water as supplied Mr. Small’s family. This was the way we paid our board. People a long way from the lake suffered fearfully; all the watering carts were put to hauling water, but all they could draw was only a speck of what was needed.

I have given you a pretty fair account of my experience during the fire, now I will give you a few incidents or curiosities. In the first place, I was greatly amused by the unlikely things that many people in their excitement tried to save the very first. On the West Side the rage appeared to be to save their stoves and crockery. As soon as a house was threatened, the first thing brought out was a stove, then a lot of tins and glassware; in other places I saw people open their windows up stairs, and throw out looking glasses, chairs, water pitchers and basins, all of which were broken and rendered useless the moment they touched the ground. In some streets the pavement was littered with debris of this kind; when the fire got amongst the stores, cabmen, expressmen, and roughs in general were dressed up in much better style than usual. A large number of silk hats being particularly observable on the gents, showing plainly that some stores had suffered. A lot of prisoners locked up in the City Jail were let loose; the first thing they did was to run over to the jewellry stores and plunder them of all the valuables that were convenient. Many of the store owners saved what they could, then opened the doors and told the multitude to help themselves. One of the largest jewellers out of New York did this, and a few lives were sacrificed in his place; people being so venturesome that they went once too often, and got caught with a falling building. One piano store owner commenced pulling pianos out of a third story window. This was the worst piece of business that I saw for they were smashed into splinters when they struck the ground, and greatly endangered the lives of people around. Pistols were freely used, a great many ruffians were shot for trying to break into different places, and in return, a few respectable men were shot by them, for preventing them carrying out their purpose. One expressman that we employed was going to drop our things out on the street after he got a few yards when one of my newly made acquaintances drew his revolver, and told him he would blow his brains out if he did. He drove quietly on after that.

A great many lives were lost, more than ever will be known. A lot of people congregated in the tunnel under the river (that I have described in a previous letter) and most of them were smothered or burned. There were two things that helped the fire along wonderfully. They were the wooden pavements and the quantity of things thrown out of the houses and left there.