Ocean to Ocean on Horseback / Being the Story of a Tour in the Saddle from the Atlantic to the Pacific; with Especial Reference to the Early History and Development of Cities and Towns Along the Route; and Regions Traversed Beyond the Mississippi; Together with Incidents, Anecdotes and Adventures of the Journey

by Willard W. Glazier

In the midst of all the down-town rush, at a point where noise and confusion scarcely cease, one notices upon a decidedly modern building a white stone tablet which informs the stranger that it was upon this spot Fort Dearborn stood—the oldest landmark that remained to tell the tale of the wilderness. In 1804 two block-houses were built here and a subterranean passage made from the parade to the river, the whole surrounded by a picket and furnished with three pieces of light artillery, the object being "to supply the Indian wants and control the Indian policy." The tribes of Pottawatomies overran the country round about and with the little group of French and Canadian settlers made the life of the isolated post. In 1809 Tecumseh marked it out as one of his objects of vengeance, but fortunately other schemes occupied his attention, and it remained in comparative security until the war of 1812. Then, when all the country was disturbed and the Indians were making mischief everywhere, the commander of Fort Dearborn was betrayed by the Pottawatomies and every vestige of a settlement destroyed.

It was not until 1818, after Fort Dearborn was again demolished, that the pale face was courageous enough to establish his home at this point. Nor was courage alone required, for the unfavorable position—on a morass where vehicles invariably floundered in its black loam, and where the air was necessarily unhealthy—was well known; but these first men whose rude homes constituted the embryo city must have possessed to a great degree that indomitable spirit which has become the very foundation of Chicago.

Nine years from this time a most unfavorable report of the place was sent to the Government and from this report the picture is called up of a wretched, unclean and disreputable community. But this state of affairs was not to last long. An event of importance took place here in 1833, when the United States commissioners and chiefs of the Pottawatomie, Chippewa and Ottawa tribes met, that the former might persuade the latter to give up more of their valuable land in Illinois and Michigan and ultimately to relinquish it altogether. The exact amount stipulated for was twenty millions of acres. Then population increased, for one of the points agreed upon, along with the land, was that the Indians should move west of the Mississippi. As a result, Chicago became the centre of much speculating. Eastern capitalists were interested, invested and lost heavily, but after the depression which inevitably followed, the people went to work in earnest and brought the town out of her trouble.

The one point of advantage that Chicago possessed—her possibilities as a commercial post—was put to the test, and so rapidly did she advance, that in 1842, after several remarkable advances, she sent out 600,000 bushels of wheat. She was already becoming a big cattle market, ranchmen further west driving their stock here and helping to increase the importance of the place as a centre of trade. At this time a canal was in process of construction, to connect the Illinois and Chicago rivers, thus making Chicago the centre for commerce between the Southwest and East, and giving her the opportunity to extend her business from the Gulf of Mexico to the Atlantic Ocean.

This was a splendid opening, and, with the co-operation of the railroads which soon afterwards were extended to this point, the future prosperity of the place was secured. It then only remained for Chicago to improve her appearance and sanitary condition. This she did by having the streets drained, filled up and graded. Local pride was manifesting itself in various improvements and in private and public buildings, so that by 1871 there was plenty of fuel for the great fire which laid so much of the city waste.

The well-known origin of the conflagration was in a barn where "Mrs. Scully's cow" innocently turned over a lighted lantern on some dry hay. Soon the barn was in flames and the fire quickly spread to the lumber yards along the river and from thence, the dry timber and wind favoring, leaped along and licked up the homes on the North Side and the business houses on the South Side.

The first stroke of the alarm sounded about nine o'clock in the evening of October 8, 1871. "By eleven o'clock 100,000 people were hurrying through the streets of the doomed city," spreading terror as they went. "All over the city it was as light as day, and, in the remotest suburb fine print was read by the glare of the conflagration three or four miles away. By midnight nearly every vehicle in the city had been pressed into service, and the frightened animals attached to them, in many cases beyond control, went flying through the streets in all directions, making a racket and a rumble which, coupled with the hoarse shouts of men, the moaning of the gale, the roar of the conflagration and the crash of falling buildings made a conglomeration of sight and sound so appalling that none who saw it, or were of it, are ever likely to forget. Few in the city took any notice of the break of day or the rising of the sun. These occurrences seemed to make little difference in the quantity of light. It was only now and then that Old Sol was visible through the almost impenetrable smoke clouds. Nothing could be seen but smoke, smoke, smoke, here and there interspersed by dark rolling masses of flames. It was chaos come again. The earth was seemingly resolved into its original elements."

At the end of three days, 300,000 people were destitute, 100,000 were absolutely homeless, 200,000 were without water. The food supply was doubtful for all. Robbers and incendiaries were at work. The gas was gone—blown sky high. Churches, newspapers, police, telegraph offices and public institutions were gone, while nineteen-twentieths of all the mercantile stock in the city was consumed.

The tract destroyed was about a mile in breadth, and the losses were roughly estimated at $200,000,000. Still, so alive was public sentiment and hope, that at the time of my horseback journey, five years later, scarcely a trace remained to tell the tale of this disaster, and that of 1874, except the records of history.