to be named in the foreign system is that of having guards upon passenger trains, who do not control the movements of the trains, their position being thus quite inferior to that of the American conductor, and the management of their trains by telegraphic signals from the principal stations, as is the case upon some lines, and which is found to be such an effective safeguard. The elevated railway, for cities, is thus far peculiar to America; its extensive introduction, notwithstanding its acknowledged drawbacks, seems to be only a matter of time, and that in the near future. the heads of pedestrians and on awnings, to the diffusion of dirt into upper windows, to the increased danger of life from runaway horses and the breaking of vehicles against the iron columns, to the darkening of lower stories and shading of the streets so that the same are kept damp long after wet weather has ceased, and to numerous other accidents and annoyances inherent to such a system of traveling; but these inconveniences and risks appear to have fallen considerably short of the predictions, and at least are submitted to with that facility of adaptation to the inevitable, which is a characteristic trait of Americans. That there is to be a widely extended introduction of elevated railroads, in the populous and crowded cities, there would seem little ground for doubting, notwithstanding the objections which were at first raised against such a mode of passenger transit. In the city of New York, for instance, it was declared that, for the privilege of such conveyance, the citizens must habituate themselves to trains thundering over their heads, to thoroughfares blocked with great iron columns, to the liberal distribution of ashes and oil and sparks upon The capacities of inventors have received a new stimulus, by the needs of this kind of locomotion, and many and interesting are the improvements which have been brought forward already in this direction, relating respectively to tracks, cars, engines, etc. That the elevated railroad has a great future before it, in most of our great and crowded cities, would appear to be unquestionable; for, notwithstanding its acknowledged drawbacks, it is admitted to be a well nigh indispensable public convenience. LXXVIII. BURNING OF THE CITY OF CHICAGO, ILL., THE COMMERCIAL METROPOLIS OF THE NORTH WEST.-1871. Most Destructive Conflagration in the History of Civilized Nations.-A Thirty Hours' Tornado of Fire in all Directions.-Vast Billows of Inextinguishable Flame.-Upwards of Two Thousand Acres, or Seventy-three Miles of Streets, with 17,450 Buildings, Destroyed: Loss, $200,000,000.-Ignoble Origin of the Fire.-Fatal Mistake of a Policeman.-Combustibles all Around.-A Strong Gale Prevailing.-Frightful Rapidity of the Flames.-Destruction of the Water-Works-Stores and Warehouses Swept Away.-Palaces and Hovels a Common Prey.-Engines Sent from Seven States.-The Midnight Scene.-Terror Indescribable.-Flight for Life.-Burning of the Bridges.-Helplessness, Desperation, Death-Churches, Hotels, Theaters, in Ashes-Fate of the Newspapers, Banks, etc.Explosion of the Gas- Works.-Tombs and Graves Consumed.-Most Ghastly Spectacle.-Nearly 100,000 Persons Homeless.-The Wail for Help.-A World's Sympathies Poured Forth. "Blackened and bleeding, panting, prone On the charred fragments of her hattered throne, Lies she who stood, but yesterday, alone."-BRET HARTE. EN Sunday and Monday, October eighth and ninth, 1871, there occurred in Chicago, the great commercial metropolis of the north-west, a fire unparalleled in the history of the world. The fire originated in a small frame structure in the rear of No. 137 DeKoven street, used as a cow-stable. It was discovered at about half-past nine o'clock in the evening, by a policeman, when it was very small, and who, hoping to extinguish it without sounding an alarm, set himself to work to do so,-a fatal miscalculation, as the result soon proved. A strong southwesterly wind was blowing at the time; no rain had fallen for several weeks previous; and consequently all combustible matter was prepared for ready ignition. It was also a portion of the city occupied by the poorer classes, principally Bohemian emigrant families, and being in the vicinity of several planing mills, shingle mills, and factories, had collected a large quantity of shavings from these places, and stored them in the basements and yards of their premises for winter use. All the fire apparatus of the city was brought into requisition, and, considering the difficulties to be encountered, the courage and energy of the firemen could not be surpassed. They had just passed through a severe fire twenty-four hours previous, and part of the companies had left the scene of the Saturday night fire but a few hours, when they were again called, exhausted with hard labor, to this fearful scene. The awful gale which prevailed filled the air with live coals, and hurled to an immense distance, in every direction, blazing brands and boards, — a widespread besom of furious destruction. All of the leading banks of the city, several of the stone church edifices, costly and elegant in the extreme; the beautiful railroad depot of the Michigan Southern and the Rock Island railway companies, also that of the Illinois Central and the Michigan Central railroads; the court-house and the chamber of commerce; the Sherman, Tremont, Briggs, Palmer, Bigelow, Metropolitan, and several other hotels, as well as the gigantic Pacific, which was in process of construction; all the great newspaper establishments; the Crosby opera-house, McVicker's theater, and every other prominent place of amusement; the post-office, telegraph offices, Farwell hall, the magnificent Drake-Farwell block, the stately dry goods palaces of J. V. Farwell & Co., Field, Leiter & Co., scores of elegant residences in Wabash and Michigan avenues, numbers of elevators in which were stored millions of bushels of grain; in fact, all that the hand of man had fashioned or reared was completely swept away, as the fire madly rushed to the north. The flames shot with frightful rapidity from house to house and from board-yard to board-yard, all human means appearing utterly powerless to stay their progress. On they went, in a northerly direction, covering a space of two or three blocks in width, until the burnt district of the previous night's fire was reached, and this served the purpose of preventing their farther spread on the west side of the river. Sweeping every thing in their course, up to the locality named, the flames leaped across the river, and violently communicated with the buildings there. Quickly they traveled north, devouring everything as they went, until that section of the south division which embraced nearly all the grandest structures and thoroughfares was reached, and there seemed to be no encouragement to farther efforts to save the city from its fiery doom. Unfortunately, one of the first public buildings reached by the fire was the water-works; this cut off the water supply, rendering the fire departments of various kinds, and in great ment useless. With tremendous force, the mighty and uncontrollable element, rushing to the main channel of the river, near its entrance into Lake Michigan, consumed the bridges, and attacked the north division with relentless fury. All day, on Monday, and through the succeeding night, it waged its work of devastation, advancing, with wonderful speed, from block to block, and from street to street, over a vast surface, sparing scarcely anything. The destruction of palatial residences and magnificent churches continued, while stores and dwellings by the hundreds, together with the costly water-works, the north side gas-works, Rush medical college, the Chicago and North-western railway depot, several immense breweries, coal yards, lumber yards, and manufacturing establish numbers, yielded to the resistless enemy. thought about saving anything but their lives and those of their families, such were the speed, and power, and omnipresence of the destroyer. Having reached Chicago avenue, the conflagration took an eastward turn, and cut off from flight northward all who remained in the unburned section lying between Dearborn street and the lake. The inhabitants of that district flattered themselves that their homes might escape the general destruction. But the gale changed its course in a few minutes more toward the east, and the entire quarter of the city specified became a frightful pen, having a wall of fire on three sides and the fierce rolling lake on the other. By midnight, nearly the entire popula- | persons in the direct course of the fire tion of the city had been aroused, and the streets, for an immense distance surrounding the scene of the disaster, were thronged with excited, swaying humanity, and with all descriptions of vehicles, pressed into service for the hasty removal of household goods and personal effects; loading and unloading, here, and there, and everywhere, was going on in promiscuous confusion. Invalids and cripples were carried away on improvised ambulances; aged women and helpless infants were hastily borne to places of supposed safety; people who were utterly overcome with excitement and fatigue were seen sleeping on lounges, trunks and tables, in the street; and empty houses were forcibly broken open and taken possession of by homeless wanderers, made desperate by the awful surroundings. One of the most fearfully thrilling scenes of the great conflagration, as narrated, occurred in the eastern section of the north division. When it became apparent that all hope of saving the city was lost, after the flames had pushed down to the main branch of the river, the citizens of the north side, who were over to see the main theater of the fire, thought it time to go over to their own division, and save what they could. Accordingly, they beat a rapid retreat toward the tunnel and bridges. The former of these thoroughfares was impassable at three o'clock. Clark street had not been opened for some time, and State street was in a blaze from one end to the other. Rush street bridge proved to be the only means of getting away from the south side, and over that bridge the affrighted fugitives poured in thousands. Their flight was not quicker than was the advance of the flames. The latter jumped the river with miraculous. swiftness, and ran along the northern section like lightning. So rapid was the march of the fiery element, driven by the heavy gale, that the people were glad enough to escape unscathed. Everything was abandoned. Horses and wagons were used merely as a means of flight. Few And now a scene transpired, which, as described, was scarcely ever equaled. The houses were abandoned in all haste. Into wagons were thrown furniture, clothing, and bedding. Mothers caught up their infants in their arms. Men dragged along the aged and helpless, and the entire horror-stricken multitude beat their course to the sands. It was a hegira never to be forgotten. Even the homes of the dead were sought for as food by the all-devouring element; for, after ravaging to the limits of the city, and with the wind dead against it, the fire caught the dried grasses, ran along the fences, and in a moment covered in a burning glory the Catholic cemetery and the grassy stretches of Lincoln park. The marbles over the graves cracked and baked, and fell in glowing embers on the hot turf. Flames shot up from the resting places of the dead, and the living fugitives, screaming with terror, made, for a moment, one of the ghastliest spectacles ever beheld. The receiving-vault, solidly built, and shrouded by foliage, fell under the terrific flame, and the corpses dropped or burst from the coffins, as the fire tore through the walls of the frightful charnelhouse. On the fire obtaining strong and overpowering headway, the flames seemed to go in all directions; in some places, like huge waves, dashing to and fro, leaping up and down, turning and twisting, and pouring, now and then, a vast column of smoke and blaze hundreds of feet into the air, like a solid, perpendicular shaft of molten metal. In other places, it would dart out long streaks or serpentine shapes, which swooped down over the blazing path into some of the yet unburnt buildings, which seemed pierced, and kindled instantaneously. There were also billows of flame, that rolled along like water, utterly submerging everything in their course. Here and there, when some lofty building became sheeted in flame, the walls would weaken and waver like india-rubber; they sometimes swayed almost across the street, and immediately fell with a direful crash; a momentary darkness followed, and then fresh glares of light from a newly kindled fire. The kerosene-oil stores made an awful but sublime display, as the towering flames rolled aloft, seeming to penetrate the very heavens. The huge iron reservoir of the gas-works exploded with tremendous force and sound, demolishing the adjacent buildings, and the very earth seemed actually belching out fire. The walls of white marble, the buff limestone of Illinois, the red and olive sandstones of Ohio and Marquette, the speckled granite of Minnesota, and the blue Lockport limestone of New York, all appeared to suffer about alike in the ravaging element. Everything the power of wind and flame could level met that doom everything it could lift was swept away. The furious fire consumed its own smoke, leaving but few traces of stain upon the bare standing walls. 1; In a comparatively short space of time, nearly all the public buildings were either consumed or in flames,-hotels, theaters, churches, court-house, railway depots, banks, water-works, gas-works, and thousands of dwellings, stores, warehouses, and manufactories, with all their vast and valuable contents, were whelmed in one common vortex of ruin. The fire engines were powerless. The streams of water appeared to dry up the moment they touched the flames. An attempt was made to blow up the buildings, but this availed little, the high wind carrying the flaming brands far across the space thus cleared away. To add to the horrors of the scene, the wooden pavements in some places took fire, driving the firemen from stations where their precious efforts might possibly have been available. But nothing could long resist the terrible heat of the flames, which seemed to strike right through the most solid walls. Buildings supposed to be absolutely fire-proof burned like tinder, and crumbled to pieces like charred paper. Engines and fire-apparatus had arrived from seven different States, and the working force was prodigious, but all this was of no avail. According to the most reliable estimate, the number of acres burned over in the West Division of the city, where the fire originated, was nearly two hundred, including sixteen acres which were laid bare by the fire of the previous evening. This district contained about five hundred buildings, averaging four or five occupants each. These buildings were generally of the poorer class, and comprised a great many boarding-houses, saloons, and minor hotels, with a few factories, also several lumber and coal yards and planing mills, a grain elevator, and a depot. acres. In the South Division, the burned area comprised some four hundred and sixty With the exception of the Lind block, on the river bank, between Randolph and Lake streets, it included all north of an irregular line running diagonally from the intersection of Polk street with the river, to the corner of Congress street and Michigan avenue. This district, though comparatively small in extent, was by far the most valuable in the city, the very heart and head of Chicago as a commercial center. It contained the great majority of all those structures which were at once costly in themselves, and filled with the wealth of merchandise that made the city the great emporium of the North-west. All the wholesale stores of any considerable magnitude, all the daily and weekly newspaper offices, all the |