Chicago fire of 1871 – American Disasters

March 10, 2014December 16, 2020

Fire and Water: Comparing the Great Chicago Fire with the Johnstown Flood

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In some ways, the Johnstown Flood parallels with the Great Chicago fire. There is an element of human neglect and fallibility that contributed to the disasters; Chicago buildings were primarily made of wood or hastily constructed and the dam near Johnstown was not properly maintained. Then there were a few warning signs. Chicago had experienced drought and smaller fires cropped up periodically. Although “most never saw it coming,” some people around Johnstown did get warnings like George Fisher or the engineer trying to decide whether to move his train (143; 102-103). Nature also plays a role in the disasters. In the Chicago fire, winds helped to spread the fire. In the Johnstown flood, torrential downpour broke the dam. Many reactions to the dam’s breaking were similar to the fire in Chicago or the Peshtigo fire. People ran everywhere, shouting in total chaos, as H.M. Bennent observes (104). People tried to outrun the wave like people leapt in the river to save themselves from the fire. As Caschmidt notes, some people attributed these disasters to divine punishment or reward. Father Pernin ties religion into the Great Peshtigo Fire. Some Johnstown people also tied religion to the flood. As Gertrude said, the flood looked “like the Day of Judgment I had seen as a little girl in Bible histories” (161).

One difference between the Great Chicago fire and the Johnstown Flood was the amount of criminal activity. A drawing in McCullough’s book shows criminals robbing the dead (143). The press circulated wild stories about criminals and pillaging. These were soon disproved. Stories about Chicago crime were also fabricated. As jomarsh says “By sensationalizing the ways in which the fire destroyed class boundaries, writers reminded other members of the American upper class that their position, like these Chicagoans…were in constant jeopardy to the whims of God, Nature, and the subsequent horrors of the class intermingling so well represented by the, often fabricated, stories of crime during the fire.” Yet, I can’t help but imagine some of the crime stories in Chicago were true. Personal letters I read on the Great Chicago Fire website described criminals coming into town to take advantage of burned safes. Furthermore, a death proclamation to shoot criminals on sight was instituted. I wonder if there actually was some crime in Johnstown, despite McCullough’s dismissal? Perhaps Johnstown’s location or the nature of the disaster did not lend itself to profitable crimes?

March 10, 2014December 16, 2020

The Great Flood: Moralizing the City or Unjustly Punishment?

In the second section of our reading of The Johnstown Flood, McCullough breaks his flow of describing the socio-economic and cultural factors that shaped Johnstown and South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club and the deficiencies that led to the dam’s collapse. Although I thought these were the only towns associated with the great flood, the second section describes every community in between that disintegrated as well. Before reading about the other communities, I pictured water gradually pouring into Johnstown. I hadn’t conceptualized a wave until I read narrative after narrative of those who survived the wave and those who fell victim to the wave.

The tidal wave that collected “several hundred freight cars, a dozen or more locomotives, passenger cars, nearly a hundred more houses, and quite a few human corpses” reminded me of the religious undertones of Father Peter Pernin and the religious concentration of “Faith and doubt: the imaginative dimensions of the Great Chicago Fire” in discourse about the Chicago Fire. McCullough does not declare those who died to be sinners, nor does he directly assign blame for the cause of the dam breaking, but this lack of blame may be interpreted as a flood sent by God. “But he had gone only a short way when he saw the wave, almost on top of him, demolishing everything, and he knew he could never make it” (161). This is similar to CT’s post about God’s choice to demolish Chicago.

Most religions have a flood narrative, whether as a cosmology or an act of purification, and this wave’s chaos could have described a purification act: “everyone heard shouting and screaming, the earsplitting crash of buildings going down, glass shattering, and the sides of houses ripping apart. Some people would later swear they heard factory whistles screeching frantically and church bells ringing” (145). I am only further convinced after reading the descriptive imagery of the St. John’ Catholic Church spires catch fire and fall off (169).

I am interested to continue reading and see how McCullough ties everything together, and if he ever directly blames one group of people for this disaster. I also wonder if he will describe who is financially responsible, and who will pay for the farmland and houses that were swept away.

February 25, 2014December 16, 2020

Looking Out for Your Own: Empathy’s Role in Disaster Relief

My paper will seek to understand the role that demographical similarity between those affected by disasters and those responding to disasters plays in the mobilization and formulation of aid and legislation. More specifically, I’m curious if aid is more likely to come from those who are demographically similar to victims. I will examine the Great Chicago Fire of 1871 and the Triangle Fire of 1911. I find these two sources to be of particular interest due to the ways in which their contrasting narratives might manifest themselves into contrasting aid objectives. Much of the narrative surrounding the Chicago Fire centered on upper class hardships due to the removal of social barriers and subsequent abuse by Chicago’s lower class. In contrast the dominant narrative of the Triangle Shirtwaist Fire centered on the exploitation of the lower class by a predatory and greedy upper class. One of the questions that must be addressed in order to pursue this topic is whether or not differing focuses on aid, in particular maintenance of class boundaries versus lower class protection, developed over time rather than as specific responses to each disaster. More specifically, was the lower class focus of the Triangle Fire’s recovery a product of the ‘progressive era’ rather than specific to the Triangle Fire itself? Conversely, was the upper class focus of the recovery efforts for the Great Chicago Fire stem from the era’s emphasis on speculation and economic productivity over social responsibility? Answers for this question could potentially be found by comparing which organizations led the relief efforts for disasters occurring around the time of the Chicago fire and the Triangle fire. Another question is whether the response to the Chicago Fire even favored the upper class over the lower class? The existence of committees such as the “Special Relief Committee” of the Relief and Aid Society suggests that it might have, though this was only a small facet of the recovery effort. A third question that is extremely central to the overarching thrust of this paper revolves around the rationale of charity. Are people more inclined to provide aid when they can identify with the victims of a disaster? This has important implications for both the Chicago Fire and the Triangle fire; an understanding of who is leading the relief effort is invaluable for understanding the type of relief that the disaster prompted. Primary sources that will be valuable for understanding both this question and the topic on the whole include newspaper articles (particularly whether an event is more likely to be discussed by a progressive or conservative paper), records of donations (who was most compelled to give aid), accounts of rallies or demonstrations following the disaster (the funeral processions following the Triangle Fire were absolutely massive and demonstrate overwhelming conviction despite many of its participants being too poor to donate), and records of the organizations leading the relief effort (the Chicago Fire was led by the a society comprised of industrial leaders, the Triangle fire was led by unions and women’s societies).

February 19, 2014December 16, 2020

Flood Versus Disaster: The Creation of the Johnstown Flood of 1889

The Johnstown Flood of 1889 is an “accident” that draws parallels to the Great Chicago Fire of 1871 because of human interaction with and development of the land, and human hesitation to acknowledge the preceding signs. McCullough’s geological notes regarding the speed of urbanization and tree removal on hill slope porosity describe how the development of the city quickened the speed at which the water arrived in Johnstown. This is a common problem that continues into today. Historically, rivers have big floods every 10 years, and massive floods every 100 years that widen and extend the river channel. The flood is severe, but afterwards the land gets to rest for the next 100 years. Urbanization messes up this cycle by making rainfall reach river channels quicker, and therefore increasing the volume of water in the riverbed in a shorter amount of time. The rapid industrialization of steel mills and subsequent population boom in Johnstown after the canal construction reduced the time it took water to reach the city and exacerbated the flood.

Similar to how Pernin and Smith note the small fires that broke out before the Great Fire, McCullough notes the heavy rain that occurred months before the Great Flood. Additionally, McCullough observes that in 1864 the dam broke for the first time. As Sarah points out, neglect of dam maintenance led to the eventual collapse, but the growth of the city led to a higher death toll. While the people of Johnstown did not doubt the potential of flooding, they had grown accustomed to this scare. For these two reasons: urbanization and precipitation patterns, I cannot place all the blame on the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Elite.

It is frustrating to read about the ironies McCullough presents, including the capitalists vacationing to South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club in order to free their cluttered minds from work; and how the capitalists, who commanded and encouraged construction of the dam, were not physically affected with the eventual collapse of the dam, however this disaster did not lie entire in the hands of the rich.

February 12, 2014December 16, 2020

Examining the Archetypical Chicagoan

In Carl Smith’s “Faith and Doubt: the Imaginative Dimensions of the Great Chicago Fire,” he discusses two of the major types of responses to the Chicago. The first posits Chicago as a distinctive entity, stresses its God-given destiny as the Queen of the West (some members of this school went so far as to argue that the magnitude of destruction demonstrated Chicago’s preeminence over other major cities, such as Paris, that also experience fires), and reduces its immoral reputation (gambling, prostitution etc.). This view largely ignores class distinctions. Conversely, the second view stresses the dangers of the lower class and explains how, without the social barriers, the lower class is truly as evil (satanic and demon-like were frequent comparisons) as the upper classes feared them to be.

Initially I found these views to be irreconcilable; one is founded on the reduction to an archetypical Chicagoan, while the other is based around the construction of class distinctions and their associated morals. However, after reading Catherine’s post regarding the classism in the Chicago fire, I began to reconsider this distinction. I was particularly interested in her discussion of boosters’ roles in providing a narrative for the Chicago fire and subsequently prompting the recovery effort. It is important to consider that these boosters were targeting upper class Americans capable of investing necessary capital into Chicago. We must then consider that these references to the archetypical Chicagoan were in fact references to the upper class Chicagoan. This would allow these initial two views to become reconcilable.

I would argue that a combination of these views can be understood as a warning against sectionalism within upper class America. By sensationalizing the ways in which the fire destroyed class boundaries, writers reminded other members of the American upper class that their position, like these Chicagoans (who are relatable because of the way that the ‘first view’ stressed their upstanding morals), were in constant jeopardy to the whims of God, Nature, and the subsequent horrors of the class intermingling so well represented by the, often fabricated, stories of crime during the fire. A stress on both Chicago’s upstanding morals and its prior financial eminence is extremely important; by reminding the upper-class of their financial and social frailty it also demonstrated the need for a unity among the upper class.

February 12, 2014December 16, 2020

The Great Chicago Fire: Recovery and Retaliation

Carl Smith writes that the Chicago Fire of 1871 invigorated the religiousness of the city and created an increased awareness of social order in “Faith and Doubt”. While he does supply various examples to support both arguments, the theme most apparent to me was that the Great Fire reinforced classism by allowing white Christian males to dominate the reconstruction of the city.

The religious writing after this disaster probably stemmed from account’s like Father Peter Pernin’s who acknowledged the Godly forces that caused calamity and purified the land. Pernin also writes that those who had healthy relationships with God were those who survived, which inadvertently suggests the reason he was able to write the account.

Many of the survivors, who became homeless, were cared for by the swift surge of heroes in the area. Chicagoans were willing to break into burning buildings, donate capital, and all the while maintain modesty in events such as weddings. As Smith notes, they “were eager to point out that the destruction certainly seemed to have an egalitarian disregard for class distinctions that was beneficial to those who seemed to lose the most” (137). Mortality-focused reactions to contemporary disasters have come a long way from the renovational attitudes that were that era. Eli points out “today, our public figures are quicker to mourn the losses than to highlight the silver lining of a disaster. Leaders in the Gilded Age, however, seemed to remain relentlessly positive in the face of disaster”

Boosters, a distinguishable breed of Chicago residents, would emphasize the altruism and recovery of the great city, however, whom were these heroes helping? The slums suffered equally, if not worse, to other neighbors, and resource deprivation led to unorthodox methods of obtaining help. The system is accustomed to reciprocating “‘thieves, burglars and cut-throats, bent on plunder, and who will not hesitate to burn, pillage and even murder’” and “rape, arson, and murder” with lynching and death. Instead of an age of religious renewal, it is more accurate to say this was an “age of terror” (148) mirroring the tragedies the north had fought so hard to defeat less than ten years prior.

It is not that crime is justifiable, nor do I doubt that in this time people were psychologically prepared to combat crime. Quite honestly, I am not sure how I would react if I were driven from my house, leaving behind material possessions, and later saw someone of a lower socio-economic status enter my house to scavenge through my personal items. It is interesting to reflect on the dimensions of “loss”.

This disparity between the promoted images of recovery and hospitality and the accounts of violence and corruption remind me Rozario’s article, “What Comes Down Must Go Up,” which describes the economic vitality of San Francisco following the Earthquake in 1906 at the expense of the lower class who could not afford housing and were forced to the outskirts of town.

February 10, 2014December 16, 2020

Searching for the Cause of the Chicago Fire

Eli doesn’t think the cow did it, Garrett thinks it was ‘Peg-Leg’ Sullivan, and Richard Bales seems to agree with both of them. After reading through Bales’ website (which I agree with Eli doesn’t seem to work as an extremely effective historiography, but proves interesting nonetheless), I came to the conclusion that whoever/whatever caused the initial spark of the Great Chicago fire can’t be held accountable for the whole disaster. On whomever one would like to ascribe the blame–Mrs. O’Leary, the cow, ‘Peg-Leg’, Regan–the disastrous outcome on the fire was ultimately a result of a combination of events on the night of October 8th.

Bales explains that Mrs. O’Leary was exonerated for 7 reasons, most of which were failures on the part of the Fire Department to accurately locate the fire quickly, as well as equipment malfunctions. Had such mistakes not occurred, Bales suggests that it is likely that the fire would not have caused such widespread damage.

I think that there is a tendency in history (and in society in general) to want to ascribe blame to one person or one group of people. For example, was the reason the Titanic disastrous because there weren’t enough lifeboats? There was complacency on the part of the crew? Not solid enough engineering efforts? Surely it was a combination of all of the aforementioned reasons. If we take a look at more recent disasters like Hurricane Katrina or the BP Oil Spill, there was an intense effort following each event to place blame. Perhaps it is a coping mechanism or a way to better comprehend the effects of a disaster, however, as students looking at history, instead of trying to find out the exact cause of disasters like the Chicago Fire, we should aim to gather a more comprehensive list of all the reasons the event turned into a disaster.

To quickly comment on Pernin’s account of the Peshtigo Fire, I agree with Catherine and Nate about the value of this particular primary source in better understanding historical events. I just wanted to pose a question about aside from Chicago being a more prominent locale, why does the Peshtigo Fire seem to be lost in memory?

February 10, 2014December 16, 2020

$192,000,000 Worth of Damage to the City of Chicago and nobody prosecuted?

The O’Leary Barn will forever be enshrined in the history of Chicago as being the location from which emanated the 1871 Great Chicago Fire. Is it urban legend that the kerosene lantern used by Mrs. O’Leary for milking her dairy cow in the evening was the spark igniting a fire that would leave 100,000 people homeless and 300 people dead? Upon browsing www.thechicagofire.com interesting discourse is revealed about the people, actions, and confusion leading up to and after the fire. The information given to the reader on the website, in my opinion, attempts to prove the misalignment between the actual accounts from eye witnesses with the urban legend.

Unfortunately similar to the judicial system of the time I to find myself scratching my head, in a perplexed manner, at the details and evidence affiliated with the fire itself. Newspapers and other social mediums of the time exploited the story of Mrs. O’Leary’s cow because it made for good news and allowed those directly affected by the fire to find solace. The case against Daniel “Peg Leg” Sullivan seems to be a more fitting explanation for the cause of the fire. In the related texts addressing Daniel Sullivan, he admits to multiple accounts of trespassing and his association with Dennis Regan predisposes him to commit acts of debauchery. Sullivan admitted to visiting the O’Leary’s barn “In the evening over a hundred times in the past”, which Mrs. O’Leary had no knowledge of. The incrimination of Daniel Sullivan seemed even more practical to me after interpreting the diagram of the O’Leary’s home and their surrounding neighbors, http://www.thechicagofire.com/diagram.php. In Sullivan’s inquiry he described his location at the time of the fire to be resting against a fence, which from that fence his view of the O’Leary’s barn would’ve been entirely obstructed.

Even further primary source readings, which included Mrs. O’Leary’s testimony to the Board of Police and Fire Commissions, builds a case against Sullivan. In her testimony she recounts the night and provides evidence to support her claim of innocence. The O’Leary’s rented out the front rooms of their home and claimed their renters were throwing a party the night of the fire, which would have increased their inability to be awaken by early alarms of the incineration of their barn. Even Sullivan in his inquiry supports the O’Leary’s claim because he used the partygoers as a “false” alibi. In Mrs. O’Leary’s testimony she also describes the inefficiencies with the Chicago Fire Department because it was brought up that the fire engine reporting to the seen broke down in the midst of fighting the fire.

The http://www.thechicagofire.com does a good job providing its readers with a shallow, but effective collection of primary sources. The reader can leave with their own opinion and ruling on who started the Chicago Fire of 1871 and even debunk the myth of Mrs. O’Leary’s Cow. With links to suggested readings, visitors can continue with more intensive research, if so desired. Overall, the website does its job of educating its readers with sources available and allows he or she to come to their own conclusion as to which actions instigated the Chicago Fire of 1871.

February 6, 2014December 16, 2020

Disaster Boosterism and Fear of the Poor

Carl Smith’s intense analysis of the narrative which formed around the Chicago fire in its aftermath is both fascinating and telling. I think it is, perhaps, an even more revealing analysis than any direct analysis of the fire might be, because the particulars of his investigation expose the thoughts, fears, and culture of Chicago’s narrative-makers.

Clearly, we saw in Cronon’s work that Chicago possessed ample boosters. Yet, boosterism in the face of disaster might still be unexpected; yet, it persisted. To Chicago’s boosters, and indeed many of its citizens, the fire marked Chicago as a great city: “Greater than the catastrophes that consumed Rome, London, and other world capitals, the fire proved that Chicago and America had already surpassed or would soon supersede these other cities in all respects”(130). The logic feels backward, but perhaps it is sound. Indeed, only a significant city could have a disaster on the scale of the Chicago fire of 1871. This is likely true of many disasters; as we have discussed, disasters are the confluence of nature and humanity, with the human element emerging as a decisive division between disasters and events. Today, our public figures are quicker to mourn the losses than to highlight the silver lining of a disaster. Leaders in the Gilded Age, however, seemed to remain relentlessly positive in the face of disaster.

On the other hand, the fire brought to light the fear of social instability. The rhetoric that emerged from disaster posited that the ‘respectable’ elements had banded together, unified and determined to survive. The poor were the most significant losers, altogether. From one perspective, they were the malefactors and miscreants who encouraged and spread the fire, looted, raped vulnerable women, and inconsiderately occupied crowded spaces with the wealthy. From another, they were helpless: “Others among the poor died because they evidently lacked the character and resolve to save themselves, which was also why they were poor in the first place”(150). In this case, Smith is merely explaining the narrative that existed, rather than asserting the above himself. These two narratives seem contradictory: these helpless poor, unable to save themselves, were amply able to terrorize the respectable citizens already traumatized by the approaching flames. Displacing the natural horror of the fire with fears of social unrest likely served to reinforce existing social order, implying that through a control of the ‘less respectable’ citizenry, the elite and middle class might be more able to exert control over such uncontrollable events as fire.

I take a more cynical view of preserved and “natural” spaces, such as National Parks, than does Emily. I think that the preservation of these natural spaces is as much a part of the capitalist culture as anything else. National parks and outdoor spaces have been commodified within the ethos of our consumer culture. People drive to these “natural” spaces, spend a day there, bring their own food or purchase it their. Trips down rivers are often guided. My own extensive time spent canoeing Wisconsin’s beautiful waterways has sent me past as many riverside houses, park ranger stations, and farms as anything else. We consume this preserved nature in small doses, which we can easily control. It certainly has an inherent appeal; however, that does not extricate it from capitalism. Capitalism does not judge the things we consume, but makes them available in the most appetizing portions for our consumption. Natural spaces in America have been packaged and labeled for our consumption, and we suspend our knowledge that they are just as “unnatural” as Manhattan as we consume them.

February 5, 2014December 16, 2020

I don’t think the cow did it

And even if it did, it’s a cow, so is it really to blame?

Richard Bales’ investigation of the Chicago fire of 1871 seems like a crime scene investigation, more than historiographical work. I certainly share his chagrin that the investigatory committee did not further investigate “Peg Leg” Sullivan and Dennis Regan more, since their testimony does seem strange and not very believable. I wonder, also, why none of Bales’ documents include testimony from anyone at the McLaughlin party, since they were closest to the barn and were still, according to Mrs. O’Leary’s testimony, awake at the time. It seems deeply unfair that Mrs. O’Leary was assumed to be instantly guilty. Her testimony as well, in my opinion, seems somewhat jumbled, which cannot have favorably impacted her case.

Denser, lengthier and yet more interesting was Father Pernin’s account of the Peshtigo fire. I don’t think that I could have chosen a better person to describe such an event: his command of language, combined with his spiritual attitude of morality driving results, and belief that the fire may be the apocalypse itself makes for quite an interesting description. For instance: “I perceived above the the dense cloud of smoke overhanding the earth, a vivid red reflection of immense extent, and then suddenly struck on my ear, strangely audible in the preternatural silence reigning around, a distant roaring, yet muffled sound, announcing that the elements were in commotion somewhere” (253). Such a description balances ominous portents with matter-of-fact description to create a chilling and vivid scene. He also seems to imply, on some occasions, that certain people died in the inferno due to their misbegotten behavior: the guests of the party who laughed at him, the dog that didn’t come with him, his horse that wouldn’t follow (even when he used its name, if you can believe that!).

All in all, he creates a scene of grand chaos, which elegantly describes what must have been a horrifying experience for everyone involved. Certainly, little can be worse than surviving such horror, only to return to bury the dead and care for the dying. One thing that I found particularly odd was that the townspeople chose to hang the man looting corpses, but then let him go. I suppose that there was no modicum of punishment available in this particular case, what with the fire and all.

Finally, I want to disagree with Marston’s claim that Cronon underestimated the role of technology, science and industrialization in driving Chicago’s rise. Cronon’s analysis continually examines the ways in which the “natural advantages” of Chicago–the river, the location near the lake, the surrounding plains–were often fraught with drawbacks. He documents well the ways in which Chicago and her boosters subverted nature in order to create a city from the mud. Ultimately, Cronon’s vision of Chicago is much more of a city crafted from “capital geography” than its natural counterpart.