The Great Fire: Chapters 3–4

At thirty minutes past ten, Brown pulled a third alarm (which would bring every one of the city’s remaining fire engines to the scene) — once again on his own initiative and once again for the wrong box.

“[Then] I caught the words, ‘across the river,’ uttered doubtingly by a bystander. The words passed from mouth to mouth, and there was universal incredulity, although the suggestion was communicated through the crowd with startling rapidity."

He was surprised to discover the place completely empty; everyone was out in the street watching the fire’s ominous glow.

Throughout his walk, Frear had maintained his composure, walking calmly and studying faces carefully.

Here, horse-drawn wagons and pedestrians vied for space, but were at least moving along slowly.

“Wagons were rushing through the streets laden with stocks of goods, books, valuable papers, boxes of money, and everything conceivable; scores of men were dragging trunks frantically along the sidewalks, knocking down women and children; fabulous sums of money were offered truckmen for conveyances.”

The sight of those coffins, upright, and bobbing along just above the heads of the crowd...was somewhat startling and the unavoidable suggestion was that they were escaping across the river to be ready for use when the debris of the conflagration should be cleared away.

The barrels of oil in Heath’s store exploded with a sound like rattling musketry. The great north wall of the Nevada Hotel plunged inward with hardly a sound, so great was the din of the surrounding conflagration.

We got as far as Washington Street in the avenue when [we were] stopped and got into an altercation with an officer.

The roadway was full of people, and the din of voices and the melee of horses rendered unmanageable by the falling embers was terrible.

“To add to my distress, Mrs. Frear jumped out of the vehicle and started to run in the direction of the fire. Nothing...saved her from being crushed to death in a mad attempt to find her children but the providential appearance of an acquaintance, who told her that the children were all safe at the St. James Hotel.”

Many stories circulated about vigilante justice dispensed during the fire, such as the hanging of arsonists.

We passed a broken-down steamer in the middle of the roadway. The avenue was a scene of desolation. The storm of falling fire seemed to increase every second.

After all, a city that had gone wild would not instill much confidence in potential business investors.

It did come under my notice that some cartmen worked for whatever the sufferers felt able to pay, and one I knew worked with alacrity for nothing.