Timeline: Chicago in 1871

The Board of Health issues its weekly mortality report.  Ninety-six Chicagoans died in the reporting period, which is 6 fewer than in the same week a year earlier, and 5 fewer than in the preceding week.  The deceased included 52 males and 44 females. Of these, 23 were under the age of one, which reflects the high infant mortality rate at the time.  The leading killers are pneumonia (12), consumption (11), convulsions (9), and croup (7).  The city health officer reports that in the last week he condemned 6 quarters of beef, 49 carcasses of mutton, 25 calves, and 3 hogs, most of these at a stock yard on Kinzie Street.

The Board of Police and Fire Commissioners, gathered at a special meeting, orders that from nightfall until 9:30 pm firemen will keep a lookout for fires from the watch-towers at their stations.  This will supplement the regular night watch, which begins at 9:30.

At a rally in Crosby’s Opera House under the auspices of the French Producers’ Association, Chicagoans gather for the purpose of aiding the people of France suffering from the ravages of the Franco-Prussian War.  At the meeting, Chicago banker and leading citizen William F. Coolbaugh reminds listeners how during the American Revolution the French answered the patriots' call for help.  “They responded promptly,” Coolbaugh declares, “they answered with money and with ships of war, and with thousands of strong hands and brave hearts; and, side by side with Washington and his gallant companions, they fought the battles of the Revolution and helped to achieve the independence of these United States of America.”  His rousing address is greeted with applause.  A fundraising concert held on February 24 draws an enthusiastic but small audience.

Some forty women gather at an afternoon meeting of the Society for the Promotion of Social Purity. The Society’s goals are “to extend to the fallen a true sympathy; to ascertain, as far as possible, their present condition, and the causes which led to their fall, as well as the sources from which their support is derived; to give to the public information respecting the present condition of the evil; to disseminate scientific knowledge in regard to the relations of the sexes, and to urge the observance of physiological and moral law; to assist in creating and sustaining a pubic sentiment which shall demand of purity of life exactly equal to that which they require of their sisters and wives.”  The meeting is adjourned when, because of a misunderstanding, the scheduled speaker, Boston-based reformer Bronson Alcott, fails to appear.

The Board of West Side Park Commissioners (there are equivalent boards for the South Side and for Lincoln Park) holds its second annual meeting.  Board President George W. Stanford presents the annual report, calling for an open-ended commitment to investment in the emerging park system.  He offers a practical argument and a criticism of Chicago's development to date.  “In the past,” he states, “we find no precedent where, in any large city, this kind of improvement has proven otherwise than profitable to the tax-payer.”  Stanford continues:  “It is a notorious fact, with regard to Chicago, that heretofore, with all its business and commercial advantages, it has afforded no sufficient attraction or inducement to bring hither, or keep within its borders, that large and valuable class of inhabitants who seek pleasant homes, within which to spend well-earned fortunes.”

Chicago celebrates St. Patrick’s Day.  The marchers lining up along Michigan Avenue stretch from Van Buren to Sixteenth Street.  Crowds of onlookers watch the parade pass, and everyone is wearing at least a touch of green.  That evening the Irish Literary Society hosts a banquet and ball at the Briggs House hotel, where the program includes music, recitations, and toasts.  In his speech, J. J. Fitzgibbon states that the highest purpose of the day is “to declare our unchanging devotion to the principle of Irish nationality.”

The Chicago Common Council accomplishes a great deal of business.  Agenda items include multiple requests, among them one to open Milwaukee Avenue from Lake to Desplaines Streets, and another to enforce the ordinance against horse jockeying and Sabbath breaking.  In addition, it receives a report from the Board of Health recommending that the council provide residents with public baths, and a proposal from the Board of Police and Fire Commissioners that the city replace crank-powered fire alarms with ones that do not require this effort.

Evanston’s First Congregational Church is the site of a discussion of the establishment in Evanston of a new college for the education of women.  Frances Willard, who has been elected president of that college, is the main speaker.  Her topic is “People Out of Whom More Might Have Been Made.”  Willard explains that she has long been inspired by Margaret Fuller Ossoli’s declaration on behalf of women, “Our only object in the world is to grow.”  Willard maintains that women should pursue higher education.  She asks her audience for three things: their confidence, their daughters, and their contributions.”  The Chicago fire will make it impossible to raise the funds necessary for an independent college for women, but one will be created in association with Northwestern University.

While the driver of a horse and buggy is making a call at the corner of Washington and Ann (now Racine) streets in the West Division, a thief steals his rig.  It is recovered within fifteen minutes.  It turns out that the horse was too much for the robber to handle; it threw him out of the buggy at Halsted and Milwaukee.  When a policeman, unaware that he is witness to a crime, comes to the aid of the thief, the latter makes a break for it in so much haste that he loses his hat.

In a development that has become commonplace, boat captains on the Chicago River ignore the local ordinance that limits daytime bridge openings to twenty minutes, causing simultaneous extensive delays for those hoping to cross the pivoting swing bridges at Adams, Madison, and Van Buren streets. 

It is the season of strawberry festivals that raise money for charity.  They begin this evening with festivals hosted by the women of several churches.  Tomorrow is the turn of the ladies of Trinity Episcopal Church, who will host their festival at Pennoyer & Company’s new carriage warehouse on the corner of Wabash Avenue and Congress Street.  They hope to use the proceeds to fund a mission.  The same evening another fete takes place at Martine’s North Side Hall on Ohio Street.  Its goal is to build a parsonage for the Church of the Ascension.  On Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday of this week, the Ladies Christian Union receives guests at its strawberry dinners in Metropolitan Hall, on the northwest corner of Randolph and LaSalle streets.

Rain dampens but does not discourage the throngs of Chicagoans of German birth and ancestry who travel in carriages and wagons, on horseback and on foot, to Wright's Grove, the popular picnic ground north of the city limits.  They celebrate their pride in the recent unification of the German nation and Germany's military victory over France.  The official program begins with medley of patriotic melodies and other compositions by German composers, followed by speeches. Franz Arnold’s oration praises German history, culture, and prospects to the skies while denigrating everything that is French.  He also pays tribute to America on this Decoration Day.  “In looking upon these thousands of German faces before me,” he states, “it is a pleasing thought to know that, when it becomes necessary for Germans to secure a recognition for the land of their birth in the land of their adoption, they can co-operate to this end without distinction of party.” 

In what the Chicago Tribune calls “the richest dramatic treat of this season, or of any season,” African American actor William M. Johnson, who is billed as “the Great Unknown,” gives his last performance of reading from Shakespeare at the St. James Hotel, under the auspices of the Dramatic Glee Club.  Johnson, the paper contends, “is certainly one of the most dazzling meteors that  have yet shot athwart our dramatic horizon.” He outshines such famous leading men as Edwin Booth and Edwin Forrest, thanks to “an undefinable something which stamps him as a genius far removed from them all.”

The trustees of Northwestern University hold their twentieth annual meeting in University Hall.  The meeting is called to order by Dr. John Evans, chair of the university's board of trustees and the person after whom Evanston is named.  On the recommendation of the faculty, the trustees confer one doctor of divinity, three master of arts, three bachelor of philosophy, and twelve bachelor of arts degrees.  They also award two individuals honorary master of arts degrees, and they name Lieutenant General Philip H. Sheridan an honorary doctor of laws.  They report that in the past year disbursements of $33,700 have resulted in a $6,500 deficit, but that the university still has almost $10,000 at hand.  The committee responsible for finances recommends that the institution charge $10 a term for tuition and $5 for incidental expenses, but that university officers have the discretion to remit either all or part of the tuition charges for the children of ministers. The trustees approve the tuition proposal, as well as a resolution that expenditures be kept within net revenue.

The ringing of the bell in the cupola of the Court House proclaims that the gates have been opened and that the putrid waters of the South Branch of the Chicago River will now, it is hoped, flow south into the newly deepened Illinois and Michigan Canal, rather than north and east into Lake Michigan, the source of the city's drinking water.  Another aim of the so-called "deep cut” is to increase traffic on (and revenue from) the canal, helping offset the cost of the project.  On July 25 1,500 people will attend the ceremonies by the Main Branch of the river at State Street that mark the completion of the deep cut.  The project will prove of limited effectiveness, however, and the river will remain a serious hazard until the construction of the Sanitary and Ship Canal in the last decade of the century.

A group of about forty businessmen visit the Union Rolling Mill Company works on the South Branch of the Chicago River.  Their purpose is to witness the new Bessemer process of making steel, which promises expanded production capacity.  They arrive by a special train, which is delayed at the Burlington Crossing.  They spend two hours at the mill and are favorably impressed by what they see.  Union Rolling, which has invested $300,000 in this new technology, is the only facility west of Cleveland where steel is made by the Bessemer method.  Following the demonstration, the visitors return to their train, where luncheon is served.

Thousands of residents flock to the lakefront at Randolph Street to enjoy the famed Old John Robinson’s Circus, Menagerie, Museum, and Caravan, which fills three large tents.  A fifty-cent ticket (half price for children) gains admission to the menagerie (whose animals are displayed in twenty-five gold and crimson cages), the museum, and circus.  Doors open at 6 tonight, with afternoon matinees as well as evening performances the rest of the week.  Among the top attractions are champion horseman Robert Stickney, child equestrienne Minnie Marks, and hurdle-rider Lewis Willis, not to mention Old Emperor the elephant, Billy the trained seal, and Conrad’s comical monkeys, as well as mammoth sea lions, monster camels, trained ponies, and educated dogs.

The Chicago Board of Education meets.  After paying tribute to a recently deceased member, calling for a monthly report on the amount and quality of the coal purchased by each school, tabling a request from singing teachers that they receive the same pay as the principals of the grammar schools, deciding on the evaluation of the qualifications of janitors, granting certificates, and other business, the board tries to choose a teacher of French for the high school.  After the first ballot proves indecisive, the matter is referred back to committee, with instructions to examine the candidates with the assistance of three French scholars.  Other instructional selections prove easier.  The board appoints Miss Grace C. Bibb and Professor M. Delafontaine teachers of Latin and Natural Sciences, respectively.

The Board of South Park Commissioners convenes in its rooms on LaSalle Street.  On the agenda are the expansion and improvement of the land for what would become Washington and Jackson parks.  Chief Engineer George W. White advises cutting a drainage ditch into the future Washington Park that will connect with ditches in the town of Hyde Park that run into the Calumet River and Lake Michigan.  At their meeting the previous Thursday the West Park Commissioners adopt a resolution creating a committee of three to confer with the South Park Commissioners on where to locate the boulevard that will link their two systems.  The West Park Commissioners also learn that in the previous month over $5,000 apiece was spent to develop Humboldt, Central (now Garfield), and Douglas parks, and that substantial contracts are out for additional trees and shrubbery.  The board empowers its president to issue certificates of indebtedness to property owners who have spent their own money  to landscape boulevards near their homes. 

Author, reformer, and spiritualist Addie Ballou lectures on “Moral Chicago” in Farwell Hall.  She does not draw nearly as well as did Horace Greeley the week before.  Ms. Ballou contends that Chicago’s moral growth is keeping pace with its demographic expansion, as indicated by the number of churches and similar agencies of good and in spite of the fact that there are by her count some 1,800 saloons in the city.  She will speak the next evening on “Immoral Chicago.”

The month ends with a large fire that consumes the Burlington Warehouse near the corner of State and Sixteenth streets, destroying an estimated $650,000 worth of property in about ninety minutes.  The warehouse is owned by Samuel Nickerson, President of the First National Bank, who has leased it out.  Lost inventory includes whiskey, wine, syrups, barrels, sugar, groceries, stoves, and machinery.  Insurance on the building and its contents is held with more than sixty companies.  The fire attracts thousands of gawkers.  After it is put out, workmen find the body of Charles Stearns amid the ashes.  The coroner’s jury rules that the managers of the warehouse followed proper safety rules and are not legally responsible for Stearns’s death.

At about nine in the evening, the Great Chicago Fire begins in or near the barn behind the cottage of Patrick and Catherine O’Leary, on the north side of DeKoven Street between Jefferson and Clinton streets.  It will burn all through the next day and into Tuesday morning, destroying the commercial center of the city and most of the North Division.

With the fire now finally out, Mayor Mason issues a proclamation advising caution, calling for volunteers to serve as special police, asking citizens to organize local watches, indicating where food is available, closing saloons at 9 p.m., setting the price of bread, and ordering hackmen, expressmen, draymen, and teamsters to charge no more than normal fares or risk the loss of their licenses.  Already citizens are patrolling the South and West divisions.  The vault in the West Wing of the Court House is found intact, and some papers within it are recovered, but most city records are lost.

The mayor, city comptroller, city treasurer, and other officials move into a building at the corner of Hubbard Court (now Balbo Street) and Wabash Avenue.  General Sheridan reports that all is well, and that “the people of the city are calm, quiet, and well-disposed.”  Residents looking for relatives and friends continue to file through the temporary morgue that has been set up in a livery stable on Milwaukee Avenue.  Among the dead are seventy bodies burned beyond recognition.

Some three hundred machinists are working day and night to restore water to residents.  The hope is to return the main engine to service by the middle of the week.  In the meantime, railway locomotives and steam fire engines are pumping Chicago River water into mains.  This involves real risks, given that the river is badly polluted.  The city is also tapping into artesian wells in Lincoln Park and at the Northwestern Distillery. 

A reporter pays a visit to Catherine O’Leary at her home on DeKoven Street.  Although her barn is gone, her cottage is not harmed.  She denies all the details of the story that one of her cows started the fire by kicking over a kerosene lamp.  She says  she  never entered the barn that fateful evening and that she was in bed when the fire began. 

Mayor Mason “earnestly recommends” that Chicagoans observe Sunday, October 29, “as a special day of humiliation and prayer; of humiliation for those past offenses against Almighty God, to which these severe afflictions were doubtless intended to lead our minds; of prayer for the relief and comfort of the suffering thousands in our midst; for the restoration of material prosperity, especially for our lasting improvements as people in reverence and obedience to God.”

Candidates representing the newly-created Union Fire Proof ticket, which comprises Republicans and Democrats dedicated to restoring Chicago’s economy and reforming its politics, gather with their supporters at Haas & Powell’s Hall on Madison Street near Canal Street.  Elsewhere in the city, a meeting is held to discuss receivership for insurance companies ruined by the fire.  The previous day the Philadelphia Athletics defeat the Chicago White Stockings 4-1 in what proves to be the deciding game of the baseball championship of America, a kind of round-robin tournament involving several teams.  These teams play each other at the Union Grounds in the Williamsburg section of the city of Brooklyn.  The White Stockings wear a variety of ill-fitting uniforms they have borrowed from other teams since their own uniforms were among the casualties of the fire.

The Relief and Aid Society’s Shelter Committee reports that it has received to date 6,259 applications for shelter houses and has approved the construction of 4,564 of them.  In order to guard against the spread of smallpox, it has administered 1,300 vaccinations to residents of the barracks.  The Board of Public Works’ review of fire damages indicates that over 121 miles of sidewalks were lost out of a pre-fire total of 680 miles, at a cost of $911,380.90.  The Common Council’s special committee on fire limits is hard at work on new regulations.  There are many calls to make the limits broad and stringent, but meanwhile people are erecting wooden structures in the burnt district.

Members of the Young Men’s Christian Association of Trinity Church, which was destroyed by the fire, express their concern that one of the unfortunate results of the conflagration is that there are now many promising men of intelligence and respectability at loose ends in the city, with neither a home nor a job.  Many more are now working at a reduced salary and are forced to live in grim rented rooms.  This makes the temptations of the city’s saloons, billiard halls, and cheap theaters all the more powerful, with personal ruin being the likely outcome.  With this in mind, the group plans to open a free Young Men’s Club and Reading Room, comfortably furnished and well stocked with respectable reading matter, chess boards, and stationery, which will provide an appealing place of pleasant social intercourse and mental improvement.  The Association solicits the public for contributions to support this worthy effort.

An account of the progress of the resurrection of the commercial downtown lists the many brick and stone structures that are already built or in progress.  It states that of 212 buildings, 112 are located on Madison, Monroe, Clark, State, and Wabash, while about 100 are equally scattered on other streets.  It predicts (wrongly) that Wabash between Washington and 22nd streets will now displace the blocks around State and Madison streets as the city’s prime retail district.  In a related development, so much rubble from the fire has been dumped in the lake between the Illinois Central tracks and the shore that this man-made basin has virtually disappeared.

Chicagoans, who at first stayed away from what theaters were open in the weeks after the fire, are now finding such amusements a welcome distraction.  They attend Progress at the Michigan Avenue Theatre, and a minstrel show at the West Side Opera House.  Divorce continues to fill seats at the Globe, though it will soon be succeeded by Bertha; or, The Fate of the Sewing-Machine Girl.  There will be a program of music at the Turner Hall on West Twelfth Street on Sunday.  The managers of the Star Lecture Course, which brings well-known speakers to Chicago—recent visitors include Edward Everett Hale, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Mark Twain, Frederick Douglass, and Wendell Phillips—have had difficulty landing Henry Ward Beecher, even though they have offered the famous clergyman $2,000 for two nights.

The last meeting of the old Common Council and the first meeting of the recently elected new one are held.  Outgoing Mayor Roswell Mason endorses his successor Joseph Medill’s desire to consolidate more power in the mayor's office, and he defends his own actions during the fire.  In his inaugural address, Medill calls for economic retrenchment and a strict fire code. “The outside walls and the roof of every building, to be hereafter erected within the limits of Chicago,” he maintains, “should be composed of materials as incombustible as brick, stone, iron, concrete, or slate.  Self-preservation is the first law of nature.  So the preservation of the city is the highest duty of its rulers.”  He also proposes that there should be a separate water supply specifically reserved for fighting fires.

Property owners from the North Division meet at the Metropolis Hotel at Fourteenth Street and Michigan Avenue in the South Division. They resolve unanimously to rebuild as soon as possible.  Some express skepticism that the proposed strict fire limits will ever be enforced, while others maintain that the walls of brick buildings do not need to be as thick as the proposed new regulations prescribe.  The owner of Lill’s Brewery, which had been located just south of the Pumping Station on Chicago Avenue, states that he has no desire to reopen the business.  Although making beer is profitable, he says, the fact of the matter is that everyone connected with a brewery is a drunkard, and so he would rather find another kind of work.  Fifty-eight-year-old Julian Rumsey, a leading grain broker who was mayor in the early 1860s, declares that he lived for thirty-five years on the North Side before he was burned out, and he wishes to remain there thirty-five years more.  Rumsey will pass away fifteen years later.

Many stores remain open to serve last-minute Christmas shoppers, and those theaters that offer performances are rewarded with large audiences.  But the Great Chicago Fire of two-and-a-half months earlier has made the day more somber than usual.  In Chicago's most impressive Christmas observance, four thousand Catholic worshippers attend a 4 a.m. High Mass officiated by Bishop Thomas Foley.  Many Protestants are on hand to witness the subdued splendor of the sacred ceremonies.