Nashville union and American. [volume] (Nashville, Tenn.) 1868-1875, 1871-10-13
CHICAGO. ID
A Graphic Description of the Great
FIre-ThriIling scenes and Touching
Incidents-A Clear Account by an

From the Cincinnati Commercial.

| InctUehts-A StCaE Account DIV an
| Eyewitness. @
From the Cincinnati Commercial.
Having Just returned from the appallinc
scene of ruin and desolation at Chicago.
thought it might be satisfactory to your
readers to have something from an eye-wit-
ness more definite and detailed than the
meager telegraphic reports furnished in
your paper of to-day. can not, it is true,
present satisfactory details, such as the pub
| lie most desire to know, respecting the loss
| of life and property; there was too much
| tumult and confusion to allow of accurate
| information on many points about which
| the public are most anxious. But of some
| things l can speak definitely.
The destruction of the business norton
of the city is literally as complete as the
dispatches have stated. have noticed no
exaggeration in the reports l have read. It
Is scarcely possible to effect more COM
plete destruction OF Chicago as business
city than has been effected, The estimates
of loss, which reaches as high as three hun
bred millions, may be considerably exag-
gerated. That can not be known. 1t was
not known when left to what extent the
county records, bank deposits, and bust
ness documents intrusted to safes, had
been damaged or lost, and of course no one
can soberly guess the amount of actual
loss.
The estimates of the number unhoused
and left destitute are not exaggerations.
There must be from one hundred thousand
to one hundred and fifty thousand left with
out houses, and most of them without food;
very many of them without clothing.
This much deemed it best to say on the
start, before alluding to any of the scenes
or incidents of this terribly magnificent CON
6agration, as these facts are of more inter
est than any mere descriptive or narrative
statements. 80 ----.
Preached Chicago on Sunday morning at
7:30 on the Pittsburg, Fort Wayne and Chi
cago Railway, in time to witness the devas-
tations of the fire of Saturday night. The
enormous piles of live Goals left in the desc
late lumber yards where so many fiery de-
mons threatening the sefety of the city, and
wanting only to be lashed into excitement
by an angry wind to spread mischief and
ruin everywhere. The exceeding dryness
of the season-the large number of frame
buildings contiguous-the high elevators
within reach-the unworthy character of
the roofs and cornices of many of even the
brick and stone buildings of the business
portion of the city; all, to discerning eye,
revealed that the city was at the mercy of
the winds and the flames.
Moreover, even the So-called fire-proOf
buildings of Chicago were not fire-proOf. l
doubt if the stone they use in building can
ever be relied on. It is limestone. The
best of it has more or less lime in it, and
cannot stand before the heat of an immense
confiagration. Their brick are also inferior.
But the confidence of the people in their
fire department, and their cheerful trust in
good luck, silenced these fears, and when
the fire broke out afresh in the evening,
there seemed to be no fear that the engines
would not be able to master it. Near mid
night, moved by fears | was unable 10 sup
press, L assembled to the roof Of the house
of my host-H. II. Honore-on Michigan
avenue, TO note the progress of the fire. 1t
was evidently spreading extensively, and the
gusts of wind, which were sometimes so
strong as to compel us to brace ourselves
on the roof, threatened immense mischief
But as the wind bore rather west of north
we felt that our part Of the city was not in
danger, and we ventured to seek rest and
sleep. Within an hour we were reused
with the information that the flames were
approaching US. A hasty glance satisfied
us that the river had been crossed, and the
fire was moving diagonally toward the
lake in northeast direction. Still it was
hoped, from the northwest bearing of the
wind, which had risen to gale, that its
eastward progress would be stayed before it
reached the most valuable portion of the
city. 1t was painfully interesting to look at
xxhn xx-hO IN
buildings, was at the mercy of the fire, try
ing to persuade themselves that by some
streak of good luck the fire would be ar
rested before it reached their treasures.
''The wish was father to the thought" But
in spite of these agOnizing wishes the stream
of devOuring flame kept moving on, even
against the wind, or only lacking sufficient
ly to pursue its course diagonally toward
the lake. Now ensued a scene of widest
excitement. The people, aroused to a sense
of danger, made frantic efforts to save their
property. The streets were soon thronged
with frightened and frantic crowds of all
classes and descriptions, and the mixture
of the solemn and painful with the
ludicrous and diverting, was such as
is seldom seen. Horses, carriages, go-cartS,
wagons, drays, hand-carts, wheelbaTows,
sleighs, some with men harnessed for horses,
and women and children pushing behind
the vehicles loaded with every kind of house
hold treasure-striving to get beyond the
reach of the onward moving river of flame,
that surged and swelled and beat relentless
ly against every obstacle and forced a chan
mel through even the solidest walls of stone.
Little boys and girls dragging trunks through
the streets with one hand, holding on with
the other to some cherished picture of the
loved and lost. Huge Irishmen leading
goats through the crowd, carrying the kids
in their arms, and leaving the children to
make their own way. Women loaded down
with bed-slats, and carefully bearing them
TO places of safety. Big men carrying mirrors
for squares, and laying them down only to
be shivered in a moment. BarefoOted and
almost naked women and children gath
cred around their piles of furniture,
many of them falling asleep in
the steeet from sheer exhaustion, only
to be reused to gather up their
goods and rush farther away from the APP
preaching danger. Millionaires of yester-
| day, looking in pale silence at the fire de-
mon, sporting recklessly with their fortunes,
and whitening to ashes in an hour the tolls OF
half lifetime past, and the only hope Of
the half of life that lay yet in the future.
The air is filled with sparks and burning
| splinters, which the cruel winds in their
wantonness lash into fury, and send them
leaping and darttng, with fiery tongue, like
enraged serpents, to strike at the first object
in their way. Some light on roofs, some
| stick their fangs into wooden cOrnices, OIL
window-frames; other dart, as if with de
mOniacal intelligence, after awnings, and dir
! ectly another magnificent block is wrapped
in flames. Soon the gas lights go Out-the
gaswOrks being destroyed; the winds
start up with fresh bowling ven
geance just as mems hopes revive of
checking the onward sweep of the fire;
| the moon looks out of the sky with a
! hue as of death-sickneSs, utterly wOe-be-
| gone-the sickliest, deathliest hue | ever
detected on her halfhidden face; a sullen
| roar of an explosion adds to the horror OF
! the scene; and the crash of falling walls
and timbers, and the frantic leap of flame,
! high up into the air, to burst into a deluge
of sparks and blazing splinters, and descend
| in fiery torrent on some near object of venge-
ance, make up a scene of tumult and desc
lation and awful magnificence that no words
can describe. Then word comes that the
| Courthouse is in fames-that the fremont
and the Sherman are gone-and when you
lift up your eyes, look which way you will,
it is evident that the fire-fiends are holding
biph carnival and that no earthly mower can