LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN 977.31 N31g The person charging this material is re- sponsible for its return to the library from which it was withdrawn on or before the Latest Date stamped below. Theft, mutilation, and underlining of books are reasons for disciplinary action and may result in dismissal from the University. UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN DEC HOV 197k tWW5 APR20 .... ^ tl^M (- MAVY DIED HERE. K E- X o cc Q W X x ^ic^H-BSj - . * x x. BACK PART OF THE THEATER WHILE THE FIRE RAGED. b - . - AUTHOR'S PREFACE. At the urgent solicitation of the survivors of the great Iro quois Theater disaster, I have undertaken the task of writing the complete and connected history of that historic event. The work will include stories of remarkable escapes and thrilling experiences of survivors. It shall be my aim to get the actual facts and all the facts pertaining to the terrible affair. I am glad to acknowledge the assistance and co-operation I have received, in preparing this memorial volume, from the highest officials, and from leading experts and scientists. Thus I have been able to obtain data and special information bearing on the disaster which can be found only in this book. The task of preparing a volume of this character is necessarily a trying one, and one of mournful interest, recalling, as it does, the peculiarly sad features attendant upon that appalling calamity of December 3oth, which make it so different from all other great disasters of modern times. Chicago, with aching heart and head bowed in grief o'er ' the graves of its martyred dead, calls forth the pity of tl^e whole world in this, her hour of greatest sorrow sorrow brought on by a holocaust that has no parallel in the world's history a calamity which in less time than it takes to tell bereft hundreds of homes of their loved ones and made Chicago the most unhappy city on the face of the earth. The gay playhouse, decked in Christmas garb, the happy audience of women and children breathing the spirit of "Peace on earth, good will to men," the stage sparkling with the glare * and glitter of a scene from fairyland, the players inspired with f AUTHOR'S PREFACE. die applause that came from the delighted little children, and then the dreadful cry of fire, the desperate fight for life in the blinding death-trap, the heroic rescues by police and fire- men, the snuffing out of 600 precious lives, the loving sympathy of the world such in a word is the story of that never-to-be- forgotten Wednesday afternoon, December 30, 1903. While this book is intended to be a fitting memorial in com- memoration of that tragic and historic event, I am firm in the conviction that its wide circulation will be instrumental in accomplishing much good. It calls special attention to the defective and dangerous construction of theaters, public halls, opera houses and other public buildings all over the land ; bold evasions and reckless disregard of life-saving ordinances by managers and owners whereby thousands of precious lives are constantly imperiled. It will thus arouse public sentiment and emphasize the supreme importance of safeguarding the people who congregate in such buildings and prevent the possible loss of thousands of lives in future. What has happened in Chicago is liable to occur in other cities and towns unless precautionary measures are adopted. This book will sound a warning note that will be heard and heeded throughout the length and breadth of our land. In this belief and with the hope that my efforts in writing this volume may be of good to all mankind, I respectfully dedi- cate the book to the American people. MARSHALL EVERETT. PUBLISHERS' PREFACE. While the embers are still all but glowing of one of the most heartrending fires of modern times, its history has been caught from the lips of the survivors and embalmed in book form. The deep and far-reaching effects of the Iroquois casualty will not be eradicated, if much softened, for another generation. That this is true must be realized, when it is remembered how large a majority of the victims were in the early da*vn or flush of life, and their friends and closer kindred can the less readily be reconciled to the sad reality than if the loss had fallen among the mature, whose end, in the order of nature, would not be far away. This true story of the Iroquois theater disaster is one of the saddest and most terrible narratives of "what has been" that the modern book-world has ever had to present, and those who have been in the midst of it are sick at heart, thinking of "what might have been." The full story is here told by the hundreds torn with grief, whose distracted minds and hearts cannot keep them from it. The story was so benumbing in its horrors to those who actually were caught by the terror of the flames and panic that it fell from their lips as if in a dream, and it is certain that many who saw the fated women and children going to their death and themselves escaped, will never be able to tell the tale in any other way; and if the victims who were sacrificed in the Iroquois holocaust still find interest in such awful tragedies of earth they will surely know, as dots all the world to-day, that "some one has blun- dered." PUBLISHERS' PREFACE. If any good whatever shall come from this second great fire-blast which has visited the Western Metropolis the one so stupendous in the destruction of property, the other so fiendish in its withering of human life it will be the arousal of the world to a realization of the worthlessness of 'dead money as compared with quivering life. Even as these words are written, not only are the public officials of American cities, but the rulers of the Old World, bestirring themselves to avoid such a calamity as has but re- cently shocked and saddened the world. Theaters, public build- ings and palaces from San Francisco to New York, and from London to Tokyo, are being examined and improved in the name of human life. Not only has the Old World profoundly sympathized with the New, through the twice-stricken city, but it has been inspired to undertake a great practical work for humanity's sake. As this is the only permanent publication to present the holocaust to the world, in all its startling completeness, the pub- lishers trust, even in the midst of the deep gloom that per- vades the country, that they will prove no ineffective agents In forwarding this work for the protection of the present and future generations. It would seem that all that is necessary to bring about a world-wide awakening over this deeply vital question is to present to the public the true picture of the Iroquois theater disaster, as has been done in this volume. THE PUBLISHERS, TABLE OF CONTENTS, CHAPTER I. . Page THE STORY OF THE FIRE 33 WAVE OF FLAME GREETS AUDIENCE FEW REALIZE APPALLING RESULT DROP WHERE THEY STAND MANY HEROES ARE DEVELOPED DEAD PILED IN HEAPS EXITS WERE CHOKED WITH BODIES SURVEY SCENE WITH HORROR FIND BUSH- ELS OF PURSES. CHAPTER II. N^ FIRST AID TO THE INJURED AND CARE FOR THE DEAD. 51 GREAT PILES OF CHARRED BODIES FOUND EVERYWHERE IN THE THEATER MOAN INSPIRES WORKERS IN MAD EFFORT TO SAVE NONE LEFT ALIVE IN GALLERY DEAD AND DYING CARRIED INTO NEARBY RESTAURANT BY SCORES TERRIBLE REALITY COMES TO AWESTRICKEN CROWD ONE LIFE BROUGHT BACK FROM DEATH ONE HUNDRED FEET IN AIR, POLICE CARRY INJURED ACROSS ALLEY CROWDS OF ANX- IOUS FRIENDS BALCONY AND GALLERY CLEARED FINANCE COMMITTEE OF CITY COUNCIL ACTS PROMPTLY. CHAPTER III. TAKING AWAY AND IDENTIFYING THE DEAD.... 67 HEARTRENDING SCENES WITNESSED AT THE UNDERTAKING ES- TABLISHMENTS FRIENDS AND RELATIVES EAGERLY SEARCH FOR LOVED ONES MISSING AFTER THEATER HOLOCAUST. CHAPTER IV. SCENES OF HORROR AS VIEWED FROM THE STAGE 77 STORY OF How A SMALL BLAZE TERMINATED IN TERRIBLE Loss = ORCHESTRA PLAYS IN FACE OF DEATH CLOWN PROVES A HERO ALL HOPE LOST FOR GALLERY. TABLE OF CONTENTS. CHAPTER V. EXCITING EXPERIENCES IN THE FIRE 86 EXPERIENCE OF CHICAGO UNIVERSITY MEN BISHOP BRAVES DANGER IN HEROIC WORK OF RESCUE WOMEN AND FOUR CHILDREN SUFFER LEARNS CHILDREN HAVE ESCAPED FINDS His DAUGHTER MR. FIELD'S NARRATIVE NARROW ESCAPES OF YOUNG AND OLD PULLS WOMEN FROM MASS ON FLOOR. CHAPTER VI. HEROES OF THE FIRE 94 PILES OF DEAD IN THE GALLERY EDDIE FOY'S HEROISM AN ELEVATOR BOY HERO Two BALCONY HEROES THE MUSIC- AL DIRECTOR'S STORY CHILD SAVES His BROTHER. CHAPTER VII. THE ORIGIN OF THE FIRE THE ASBESTOS CUR- TAIN AND THE LIGHTS 105 ACCOUNT OF THE FIRE'S ORIGIN WERE ELECTRIC LIGHTS TURNED OUT? STATEMENT OF MESSRS. DAVIS AND POWERS, MANAGERS OF THE THEATER FIRST RELIABLE STATEMENT AS TO WHY THE CURTAIN DID NOT COME DOWN ANOTHER STORY AS TO WHY THE CURTAIN DID NOT LOW'ER THE THEATER FIREMAN'S NARRATIVE THE STAGE CARPEXTER THE CHIEF ELECTRICAL INSPECTOR'S TALE ONE OF THE COMEDIANS SPEAKS ABOUT THE LIGHTS. CHAPTER VIII. SUGGESTIONS OF ARCHITECTS AND OTHER EX- PERTS AS TO AVOIDING LIKE CALAMITIES . . . . 1 16 ROBERT S. LINDSTROM'S SUGGESTIONS THE ARCHITECT SPEAKS EXAMINATION BY ARCHITECTURAL EDITOR PROPOSED PRECAUTIONS FOR NEW YORK THEATERS. CHAPTER IX. THIRTY EXITS, YET HUNDREDS PERISH IN AWFUL BLAST 123 HORRIBLE SIGHT MET THE FIREMEN UPON ENTERING AUDITOR- IUM THE GALLERY HORROR GIRL'S MIRACULOUS ESCAPE AN ACCOUNT FROM THE BOXES INSPECTION AFTER THE FIRE A YOUNG HEROINE A NARROW ESCAPE FINDS WIFE IN HOSPITAL A MIRACULOUS AND UNCONSCIOUS ES- CAPE LITTLE GIRL'S MARVELOUS ESCAPE FOUR GENERA- TIONS REPRESENTED DAUGHTERS AND GRANDDAUGHTER* GONE. TABLE OF CONTENTS. CHAPTER X. HOW THE NEW YEAR WAS USHERED IN 13? MOURNING IN EVERY STREET NOISE SEEMS A SACRILEGE MAYOR ASKS FOR SILENCE MERRIMENT is SUBDUED CITY OF MOURNING BUSINESS WORLD IN MOURNING. CHAPTER XL A SABBATH OF WOE 143 SEVEN TURNER VICTIMS SAD SCENES AT WOLFF HOME PA- THETIC SCENE AT CHURCH BURY CHILDREN AND GRAND-, CHILDREN FlVE DEAD IN ONE HOUSE ENTIRE FAMILY IS BURIED MRS. Fox AND THREE CHILDREN MRS. ARTHUR E. HULL AND CHILDREN HERBERT AND AGNES LANGE SWEETHEARTS BURIED AT THE SAME TIME FIVE BURIED IN ONE GRAVE BOYS AS PALLBEARERS WINNETKA SAD- DENED MOTHER AND DAUGHTERS BURIED TOGETHER HOLD TRIPLE FUNERAL WOMEN FAINT IN CHURCH LIFE-LONG FRIENDS MEET IN DEATH EDWARD AND MARGARET DEE Miss E. D. MANN AND NIECE ELLA AND EDITH FRECK- ELTON Miss FRANCES LEHMAN. CHAPTER XII. WHAT OF THE PLAYERS ? 152 THE CHORUS GIRL THE MUSICAL DIRECTOR THE JOY OF THE OPENING SPENDTJIRIFT HABITS GAMBLING, PURE AND SIMPLE THE SHOW ON THE ROAD THE ONE-NIGHT STAND THE "MR. BLUEBEARD" COMPANY. CHAPTER XIII. OTHER HOLOCAUSTS 181 CHAPTER XIV. STORIES AND NARRATIVES OF THE HOLOCAUST. 193 MRS. SCHWEITZLER'S STORY OF THE BURNING OF THE CURTAIN ESCAPE OF MOTHER AND Two SMALL CHILDREN EXPRES- SION OF THE DEAD ONLY SURVIVOR OF LARGE THEATER PARTY ALL His FAMILY GONE A FAMILY PARTY BURNED CARRIES DAUGHTER'S BODY HOME IN His ARMS SAD ERROR IN IDENTIFICATION THE HANGER OF THE ASBESTOS CURTAIN KEEPSAKES OF THE DEAD THE SCENE AT THOMPSON'S RESTAURANT LIKE A FIELD OF BATTLE WOMEN EAGER TO HELP STEADY STREAM OF BODIES CLOTHING TORN TO SHREDS PRAYERS FOR THE DYING CHILD SAVED FROM DEATH BY BALLET GIRL PRIEST GIVES ABSOLUTION TO DYING FIRE VICTIMS LITTLE BOY THANKS TABLE OF CONTENTS. GOD FOR CHANGING His LUCK USE PLACER MINER METH- ODS DAUGHTER OF A. H. REVELL ESCAPES PHILADELPHIA PARTNER IN THEATER HORRIFIED ALL KENOSHA IN MOURNING FIVE OF ONE FAMILY DEAD COOPER BROTH- ERS DEEPLY MOURNED. CHAPTER XV. SOCIETY WOMEN AND GIRLS' CLUBS. 214 Miss CHARLOTTE PLAMONDON'S ACCOUNT OF THE FIRE SCREAMS OF TERROR HEARD CHORUS GIRLS ESCAPE, PARTLY CLAD FOY TRIES TO PREVENT PANIC ESCAPE OF ANOTHER SO- CIETY WOMAN MINNEAPOLIS WOMAN'S STORY OF THE FIRE GIRLS' CLUBS SORELY STRICKEN. CHAPTER XVI. EDDIE FOY*S SWORN TESTIMONY DESCRIBES OTAGE Box CUR- TAIN WOULD NOT COME DOWN LIGHT NEAR THE FIRE SAW NO EXTINGUISHERS TALKS OF APPARATUS ONLY ONE EXIT OPEN WIRE ACROSS AUDITORIUM. s CHAPTER XVII. ^EFFECT OF THE FIRE NEAR AND FAR 230 NEW YORK THEATERS AND SCHOOLS CRUSADE IN PITTSBURG WASHINGTON THEATER OWNERS ARRESTED MASSACHU- SETTS THEATERS INVESTIGATED ACTION IN MILWAUKEE PRECAUTIONS AT ST. Louis ORDERS AFFECTING OMAHA THEATERS EFFECT ABROAD HORROR FELT IN LONDON LONDON THEATER PRECAUTIONS PRESENT RULES FOR LON- DON THEATERS CURTAIN OFTEN TESTED CLOSE WATCH FOR FIRE TREE TELLS OF RUSE FORTUNE FOR SAFETY W. C. ZIMMERMAN ON EUROPEAN THEATERS THE EFFECT ON GAY PARIS UPHEAVAL OF BERLIN THEATRICAL WORLD MR. SHAVER ON BERLIN THEATERS VIENNA RECALLS A HORROR OF ITS OWN THE NETHERLANDS AND SCANDINAVIA. CHAPTER XVIII. SUGGESTIONS FOR SAFE THEATERS 243 FRANCIS WILSON SAYS "No STEPS" STAIRCASES WITH RAIL- INGS PRECAUTIONS ENFORCED TN LONDON WHAT THE CHICAGO CITY ENGINEER SAYS OPINION OF A FIREPROOF EXPERT ILLUMINATED EXIT SIGNS. CHAPTER XIX. THE SWORN TESTIMONY OF THE SURVIVORS. . . .251 THE FIRST WITNESS MARLOWE'S EXPERIENCE MUSICAL DI- RECTOR'S SWORN STATEMENT MRS. PETRY'S ESCAPE UP AGAINST LOCKED DOORS BLOWN INTO THE ALLEY JUST TABLE OF CONTENTS. Our IN TIME SPORTING MEN TESTIFY AN ELGIN PHYSI- CIAN'S TALE MR. MEN HARD'S DIFFICULT EXIT THE THE- ATER ENGINEER A SCHOOL GIRL'S ACCOUNT. CHAPTER XX. LACK OF FIRE SAFEGUARDS 271 A UNIVERSITY STUDENT'S STORY A CLERGYMAN'S STORY THE FLY MAN'S STORY SCHOOL TEACHER'S THRILLING EXPERI- ENCE GLEN VIEW MAN'S EXPERIENCE THE LIGHT OPER- ATOR THE JAMMED THEATER GAS EXPLOSION HOURS BE- FORE THE FIRE PANIC AMONG THEATER EMPLOYEES AN k EX-USHER'S WORDS. CHAPTER XXI. [RON GATES, DEATH'S ALLY 300 EVIDENCE OF GEORGE M. DUSENBERRY, SUPERINTENDENT OF THE THEATER PURPOSE OF THE Two IRON GATES NEVER ANY FIRE DRILLS GATES WERE BATTERED DIDN'T BOTHER ABOUT LOCKED DOORS. CHAPTER XXII. DANCED IN PRESENCE OF DEATH 306 CHAPTER XXIII. JOIN TO AVENGE SLAUGHTER OF INNOCENTS... 31 * . ATTORNEY T. D f KNIGHT SPEAKS CORONER'S WORK THROUGH REMARKS BY ELIZABETH HALEY. CHAPTER XXIV. AWFUL PROPHECY FULFILLED 317 MOURNING AND INDIGNATION NOTHING ELSE so HORRIBLE UNFORTUNATE VICTIMS FIRE! FIRE! BEFORE THE DISAS- TER THE HOLOCAUST THE STAMPEDE BEGINS ONE OF STUPENDOUS HORRORS CURSED AND BLASPHEMED DEAD BODIES FOUND SUDDENLY AND FOREVER PARTED THE FRENZY OF FRIENDS Too HORRIBLE TO DWELL UPON How THE THEATERS SHOULD BE BUILT. CHAPTER XXV. LIST OF THE DEAD ,...325 CHAPTER XXVI. THE STORY OF THE BURNING OF BALTI- MORE ...; ,. 357 MEMORIAL PRAYER. The Rt. Rev. Samuel Fallows wrote this prayer for Chicago on its appointed day of mourning. It is a prayer for all mourners of all creeds : "O God, our Heavenly Father, we pray for an unshaken faith in Thy goodness as our hearts are bowed in anguish before Thee. Come with Thy touch of healing to those who are suffer- ing fiery pain. Open wide the gates of Paradise to the dying. \i Comfort with the infinite riches of Thy grace the bereaved and mourning ones. Forgive and counteract all our sins of omission and com mission. All this we ask for Thy dear name and mercy's sake \rnea '* MEMORIAL HYMN. Bishop Muldoon selected as the one familiar hymn most deeply expressive of the city's mourning, "Lead, Kindly Light," which he declared should be the united song of all Chicagoans on Memorial Day. Lead, kindly Light, amid th' encircling gloom, 1 Lead Thou me on ; The night is dark, and I am far from home, Lead Thou me on. Keep Thou my feet ; I do not ask to see The distant scene ; one step enough for me, I was not ever thus, nor prayed that Thou Shouldst lead me on ; I loved to choose and see my path ; but now < Lead Thou me on. I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears, Pride ruled my will : remember not past years. So long Thy power hath blessed me, sure it still Will lead me on t O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till The night is gone, And with the morn those angel faces smile, Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile. POEM BY A CHILD VICTIM. The following poem, written by Walter Bissinger, a ley victim of the Iroquois Theater fire, fifteen years old, was com- posed two years ago, in honor of the tenth anniversary of the youthful poet's uncle and aunt, Mr. and Mrs. Max Pottlitzer, of Lafayette, Ind., whose son Jack, aged ten, perished with his cousin in the terrible disaster : HAVE A THOUGHT. Have a thought for the days that are long gone by To the country of What-has-been, And a thought for the ones that unseen lie 'Neath the mystic veil Of the future pale, As the years roll out and in. II Have a thought for the host and hostess here, Aunt Emily and Uncle Max, And a thought for our friends to our hearts so dear. That around us tonight In the joyous light Of pleasure their souls relax. in Have a thought for the happy two tonight Who have passed their tenth wedded year, And the best of wishes, kind and bright, Which we impart With a loving heart That is faithful and sincere. VERDICT OF CORONER'S JURY. From the testimony presented to us we, the jury, find the following were the causes of said fire : Grand drapery coming in contact with electric flood or arc light, situated on iron platform on the right hand of stage, facing the auditorium. City laws were not complied with relating to building ordinances regulating fire-alarm boxes, fire apparatus, damper or flues on and over the stage and fly galleries. We also find a distinct violation of ordinance governing fireproofing of scenery and all woodwork on or about the stage. Asbestos curtain totally destroyed ; wholly inadequate, con- sidering the highly inflammable nature of all stage fittings, and owing to the fact that the same was hung on wooden bottoms. Building ordinances violated inclosing aisles on each side of lower boxes and not having any fire apparatus, dampers or signs designating exits on balcony. LACK OF FIRE APPARATUS. Building ordinances violated regulating fire apparatus and signs designating exits on dress circle. Building ordinances violated regulating fire apparatus and signs designating exits on balcony. Generally the building is constructed of the best material and well planned, with the exception of the top balcony, which was built too steep and therefore difficult for people to get out of especially in case of an emergency. We also note a serious defect in the wide stairs in extreme top east entrance leading to ladies' lavatory and gallery prome- nade, same being misleading, as many people mistook this for a regular exit, and, going as far as they could, were con- fronted with a locked door which led to a private stairway, A B IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. preventing many from escape and causing the loss of fifty to sixty lives. HOLDING OF DAVIS AND HARRISON. We hold Will J. Davis, as president and general manager, principally responsible for the foregoing violations in the fail- ure to see that the Iroquois theater was properly equipped as required by city ordinances, and that his employes were not sufficiently instructed and drilled for any and all emergencies; and we, the jury, recommend that the said Will J. Davis be held to the grand jury until discharged by due course of law. We hold Carter H. Harrison, mayor of the city of Chi- cago, responsible, as he has shown a lamentable lack of force in his efforts to shirk responsibility, evidenced by testimony of Building Commissioner George Williams and Fire Marshal William H. Musham as heads of departments under the said Carter H. Harrison ; following this weak course has given Chi- cago inefficient service, which makes such calamities as the Iroquois theater horror a menace until the public service is purged of incompetents; and we, the jury, recommend that the said Carter H. Harrison be held to the grand jury until discharged by due course of few. RESPONSIBILITY OF WILLIAMS. We hold the said George Williams, as building commis- sioner, responsible for gross neglect of his duty in allowing the Iroquois Theater to open its doors to the public when the said theater was incomplete, and did not comply with the require- ments of the building ordinances of the city of Chicago; and we, the jury, recommend that the said George Williams be held to the grand jury until discharged by due process of law. We hold Edward Loughlin, as building inspector, re- sponsible for gross neglect of duty and glaring incompetency in reporting the Iroqu^'s theater "O. K." on a most superficial IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. C inspection; and we, the jury, recommend that the said Edward Loughlin be held to the grand jury until discharged by due course of law. We hold William H. Musham, fire marshal, responsible for gross neglect of duty in not enforcing the city ordinances as they relate to his department, and failure to have his subor- dinate, William Sailers, fireman at the Iroquois Theater, report the lack of fire apparatus and appliances as required by law; and we, the jury, recommend that the said William H. Musham be held to the grand jury until discharged by due course of law. NEGLECT OF DUTY BY SALLERS. We hold the said William Sailers, as fireman of Iroquois Theater, for gross neglect of duty in not reporting the lack of proper fire apparatus and appliances; and we, the jury, recom- mend that the said William Sailers be held to the grand jury until discharged by due course of law. We hold William McMullen, electric-light operator, for gross neglect and carelessness in performance of duty ; and we, the jury, recommend that the said William McMullen be held to the grand jury until discharged by due process of law. We hold James E. Cummings, as stage carpenter and gen- eral superintendent of stage, responsible for gross carelessness and neglect of duty in not equipping the stage with proper fire apparatus and appliances; and we, the jury, recommend that the said James E. Cummings be held to the grand jury until discharged by due course of law. From testimony presented to this jury, same shows a lax- ity and carelessness in city officials and their routine in trans- acting business, which calls for revision by the mayor and city council ; and we, the jury demand immediate action on the following; D IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. BUILDING DEPARTMENT. Should have classified printed lists, to be filled out by an inspector, then signed by head of department, before any public building can secure amusement license, and record kept thereof in duplicate carbon book. All fire escapes should have separate passageways to the ground, without passing any openings in the walls. All scenery and paraphernalia of any kind kept on the stage should be absolutely fireproof. Asbestos curtains should be reinforced by steel curtains and held by steel cables. There should be two electric mains entering all places of amusement, one from the front, with switchboard in box office, controlling entire auditorium and exits, and one on stage, to be used for theatrical purposes. All city officials and employes should familiarize them- selves with city ordinances as they relate to their respective de- partments, and pass a rigid and signed examination on same before they are given positions. This same rule should be made to apply to those holding office. FIRE DEPARTMENT. All theaters and public places should be supplied with at least two city firemen, who shall be under the direction of the fire department and paid by the proprietors of said places. We recommend that the office and detail work of the fire department, as imposed on the fire marshal, be made a separate and distinct work from fire fighting, as it is hardly to be ex- pected of any fire marshal to give good and efficient service in both of these branches. Also a police officer in full uniform detailed in and about said place at each and every performance. In testimony wherof, the said coroner and jury of this in- quest have hereunto set their hands the day and year aforesaid. L. H. MEYER, Foreman, PETER BYRNES, J. A. CUM MINGS, WALTER D. CLINGMAN, JOHN E. FINN, GEORGE W. ATKIN. JOHN . TRAEGEK, Coroner. CHAPTER L THE STORY OF THE FIRE. No disaster, by flood, volcano, wreck or convulsion of nature has in recent times aroused such horror as swept over the civ- ilized world when on December 30, 1903, a death-dealing blast of flame hurtled through the packed auditorium of the Iroquois theater, Chicago, causing the loss of nearly 600 lives of men, women and children, and injuries to unknown scores. Strong words pale and appear meaningless when used in describing the full enormity of this disaster, which has no recent parallel save in the outbreaks of nature's irresistible forces. There have been greater losses of life by volcanoes, earthquakes and floods, but no fire horror of modern times has equaled this one, which in a brief half-hour turned a beautiful million-dollar theater into an oven piled high with corpses, some burned and mutilated and others almost un- marked in death. Coming, as it did, in the midst of a holiday season, when the second greatest city in the United States was reveling in the gaiety of Christmas week, this sudden transformation of a playhouse filled with a pleasure-seeking throng into an inferno filled with shrieking living and mutilated dead, came as a thunderbolt from a clear sky. It was a typical holiday matinee crowd, composed mostly of women and children, with here and there a few men. The production was the gorgeous scenic extravaganza "Mr. Blue- beard," with which the handsome new theater had been opened 34 IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. " not a month before. "Don't fail to have the children see 'Mr. Bluebeard,' " was the advertisement spread broadcast through- out the city, and the children were there in force when the scorching sheet of flame leaped from the stage into the balcony and gallery where a thousand were packed. The building had been heralded abroad as a "fireproof struc- ture," with more than enough exits. Ushers and five men in city uniform were in the aisles. All was apparently safety, mirth and good cheer. Then came the transformation scene ! The auditorium and the stage were darkened for the popular song "The Pale Moonlight." Eight clashing chorus girls and eight stalwart men in showy costume strolled through the measures of the piece, bathed in a flood of dazzling light. Up in the scenes a stage electrician^vas directing the "spot-light" which threw the pale moonlight effect on the stage. Suddenly there was a startled cry. Far overhead where the "spot" was shooting forth its brilliant ray of concentrated light a tiny serpentine tongue of flame crept over the inside of the proscenium drape. It was an insignificant thing, yet the horrible possibilities it entailed flashed over all in an instant. A spark from the light had communicated to the rough edge of the heavy cloth drape. Like a flash it stole across the pros- cenium and high up into the gridiron above. Accustomed as they were to insignificant fire scares and trying ordeals that are seldom the lot of those who lead a less i strenuous life, the people of the stage hurried silently to the task of stamping out the blaze. In the orchestra pit it could readily be seen that something was radically wrong, but the trained musicians played on. Members of the octette cast their eyes above and saw the tiny tongue of flame growing into a whirling maelstrom of IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. 35 fire. But it was a sight they had seen before. Surely some- thing would happen to exfinguish it. America's newest and most modern fireproof playhouse was not going to disappear before an insignificant fire in the rigging loft. So they con- tinued to sway in sinuous steps to the rhythm of the throbbing orchestra. Their presence stilled the nervousness of the vast audience, which knew that something was wrong, but had no means of realizing what that something was. So the gorgeously attired men and dashing, voluptuous young women danced on. The throng feasted its eyes on the moving scene of life and color, little knowing that for them it was the last dance the dance of death ! That dance was not the only one in progress. Far above the element of death danced from curtain to curtain. The fire fiend, red and glowing with exultation, snapping and crackling in anticipation of the feast before it, grew beyond all bounds. V Glowing embers and blazing sparks crumbs from its table began to slower upon the merry dancers, and they fell back with blanched faces and trembling limbs. Eddie Foy rushed to the front of the stage to reassure the spectators, who now realized the peril at hand and rose in their seats struggling against the impulse to fly. Others joined the comedian in his plea for calmness. Suddenly their voices were drowned in a volley of sounds like the booming- of great guns. The manila lines by which the carloads of scenery in the loft above was suspended gave way before ^he fire like so much paper and the great wooden batons fell like thunder bolts upon the now deserted stage. Still the audience stood, terror bound. "Lower the fire curtain!" came a hoarse cry. Something shot down over the proscenium, then stopped be- fore the great opening was closed, leaving a yawning space of 36 IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER many feet beneath. With the dropping of the curtain a door in the rear had been opened by the performers, fleeing for their lives and battling to escape from the devouring element fast hemming them in on every side. The draft thus caused trans- formed the stage in one second from a dark, gloomy, smoke concealed scene of chaos into a seething volcano. With a great puff the mass of flame swept out over the auditorium, a withering blast of death. Before it the vast throng broke and fled. Doors, windows, hallways, fire escapes all were jammed in a moment with struggling humanity, fighting for life. Some of the doors were jammed almost instantly so that no human power could make egress possible. Behind those in front pushed the frenzied mass of humanity, Chicago's elect, the wives and children of its most prosperous business men and the flower of local society, fighting like demons incarnate. Purses, wraps, costly furs were cast aside in that mad rush, Mothers were torn from their children, husbands from their wives. No hold, however strong, could last against that aw- ful, indescribable crush. Strong men who sought to the last to sustain their feminine companions were swept away lifce straws, thrown to the floor and trampled into unconsciousness in the twinkling of an eye. Women to whom the safety of their children was more than their own lives had their little ones torn from them and buried under the mighty sweep of humanity, moving onward by intuition rather than through exercise of thought to the various exits. They in turn were swept on before their wails died on their lips some to safety, others to an unspeakably horrible death. While some exits were jammed by fallen refugees so as to become useless, others refused to open. In the darkness that fell upon the doomed theater a struggle ensued such as was IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. 37 never pictured in the mind of Dante in his visions of Inferno. With prayers, curses and meaningless shrieks of terror all faced their fate like rats in a trap. The darkness was illumined by a fearful light that burst from the sea of flame pouring out from the proscenium, making Dore's representations of Inferno shrink into the commonplace. Like a horizontal vol- cano the furnace on the stage belched forth its blast of fire, smoke, gas and withering, blighting heat. Like a wave it rolled over every portion of the vast house, dancing. Dancing! Yes, the pillars of flame danced! To the multi- tude swept into eternity before the hurricane of flame and the few who were dragged out hideously disfigured and burned almost beyond all semblance of human beings it seemed indeed a dance of death. Withering, crushing, consuming all in its path, forced on as though by the power of some mighty blow pipe, impelled by the fearful drafts that directed the fiery furnace outward into the auditorium instead of upward into the great flues con- structed to meet just such an emergency, the sea of fire burned itself out. There was little or nothing in the construction of the building itself for it to feed upon, and it fell back of its own weight to the stage, where it roared and raged lik some angry demon. And those great flues that supposedly gave the palatial Iroquois increased safety ! Barred and grated, battened down with heavy timbers they resisted the terrific force of the blast itself. There they remained intact the next day. Anxiety *to throw open the palace of pleasure to the public before the builders had time to complete in detail their Herculean task had resulted in converting it into a veritable slaughter pen. "Mr. Bluebeard's" chamber of horrors, lightly depicted in satire to settings of gold and color, wit and music, had evolved 38 IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. ~" within a few minutes into an actuality. Chamber of horror* indeed grim, silent, smoldering and sending upon high the fearful odor of burning flesh. Policemen and firemen, hardened to terrible sights, crept into the smoldering sepulchre only to turn back sickened by the sight that met their eyes. Tears and groans fell from them and they were unnerved as they gazed upon the scene^ of carnage. Some gave way and were themselves the subjects of deep concern. It was a scene to wring tears from the very stones. No words can adequately describe it. Perhaps the best description of that quarter hour of carnage and the sense of horror when the seared, scorched sepulchre was entered for the removal of the dead and dying is found in the words of the veteran descriptive writer, Mr. Ben H. At well, who was present from the beginning to the end of the holo- caust, and after visiting the deadly spot in the gray dawn of the following day wrote his impressions as follows: "Where at 3:15 yesterday beauty and fashion and the happy amusement seeker thronged the palatial playhouse to fall a few moments later before a deadly blast of smoke and flame sweeping over all with irresistible force, the dawn of tlie last day of the passing year found confusion, chaos and an all- pervading sense of the awful. It seemed to radiate the chill- ing, depressing volume from the streaked, grime-covered walls and the flame-licked ceilings overhead. Against this fearful background the few grim firemen or police, moving silently about the ruins, searching for overlooked dead or abandoned property, loomed up like fitful ghosts. WAVE OF FLAME GREETS AUDIENCE. "The progress of their noiseless and ghastly quest proved one circumstance survivors are too unsettled to realize. With IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. 39 the opening of the stage dqor to permit the escape of the members of the 'Mr. Bluebeard' company and the breaking of the skylight above the flue-like scene loft that tops the stage, the latter was converted into a furnace through which a tremendous draft poured like a blow pipe, driving billows of flame into the faces of the terrified audience. With exits above the parquet floor simply choked up with the crushed bodies of struggling victims, who made the first rush for safety, the packed hundreds in balcony and gallery faced fire that moved them up in waves. "With a swirl that sounded death, the thin bright sheet of fire rolled on from stage to rear wall. It fed on the rich box curtains, seized upon the sparse veneer of subdued red and green decorations spread upon wall, ceiling and balcony fac- ings. It licked the fireproof materials below clean and rolled on with a roar. Over seat tops and plush rail cushions it sped. Then it snuffed out, having practically nothing to feed upon save the tangled mass of wood scene frames, batons and paint-soaked canvas on the stage. FEW REALIZED APPALLING RESULT. "There firemen were directing streams of water that poured over the premises in great cascades in volume, aggregating many tons. A few streams were directed about the body of the house, where vagrant tongues of flame s^ill found material on which to feed. Silence reigned the silence of death, but none realized the appalling story behind the awful calm. "The stampede that followed the first alarm, a struggle in which most contestants were women and children, fighting with the' desperation of death, terminated with the sudden sweep of the sea of flames across the body of the house. The awful battle ended before the irresistible hand of death, which fell 40 IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. upon contestants and those behind alike. Somehow those on the main floor managed to force their way out. Above, where the presence of narrower exits, stairways that precipitated the masses of humanity upon each other and the natural air cur- rent for the billows of flame to follow, spelled death to the occu- pants of the two balconies, the wave of flame, smoke and gas smote the multitude, DROP WHERE THEY STAND. "Dropping where they stood, most of the victims were con- sumed beyond recognition. Some who were protected from contact with the flames by masses of humanity piled upon them escaped death and were dragged out later by rescuers, suffering all manner of injury. The majority, however, who beheld the indescribably terrifying spectacle of the wave of death moving upon them through the air died then and there without a moment for preparation. Few survived to tell the tale. The blood-curdling cry of mingled prayers and curses, of pleas for help and meaningless shrieks of despair died away before the roar of the fire and the silence fell that greeted the firemen upon their entry. "Survivors describe the sftuation as a parallel of the condi* tion at Martinique when a wave of gas and fire rolled down the mountain side and destroyed everything in its path. Here, however, one circumstance was reversed, for the wave of death leaped from below and smote its victims, springing from the very air beneath them, MANY HEROES ARE DEVELOPED. "In a few minutes it was all over all but the weeping. In those few minutes obscure people had evolved into heroes; staid business men drove outt patrons to convert their stores IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. 41 into temporary hospitals and morgues; others converted their trucks and delivery wagons into improvised ambulances ; stocks of drugs, oils and blankets were showered upon the police to aid in relief work and a corps of physicians and surgeons suffi- cient to the needs of an army had organized. "Rescues little short of miraculous were accomplished and life and limb were risked by public servants and citizens with no thought of personal consequences. Public sympathy was ^^f thoroughly aroused long before the extent of the horror was known and before the sickening report spread throughout the city that the greatest holocaust ever known in the history of theatricals had fallen upon Chicago. "While the streets began to crowd for blocks around with weeping and heartbroken persons in mortal terror because of knowledge that loved ones had attended the performance, patrol wagons, ambulances and open wagons hurried the in- jured to hospitals. Before long they were called upon to per- form the more grewsome task of removing the dead. In wagon loads the latter were carted away. Undertaking estab- lishments both north, south and west of the river threw open their doors. DEAD PILED IN HEAPS. ^ " Piled in windows in the angle of the stairway where the second balcony refugees were brought face to face and in a death struggle with the occupants of the first balcony, the dead covered a space fifteen or twenty feet square and nearly seven feet in depthr All were absolutely safe from the fire itself when they met death, having emerged from the theater proper into the separate building containing the foyer. In this great court there was absolutely nothing to burn and the doors were only a few feet away. There the ghastly pile lay, a mute mon- ! 42 IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. ument to the powers of terror. Above and about towered shimmering columns and facades in polished marble, whose cold and unharmed surfaces seemed to bespeak contempt for human folly. In that portion of the Iroquois structure the only physical evidences of damages were a few windows broken during the excitement. EXITS WERE CHOKED WITH BODIES. "To that pile of dead is attributed the great loss of life within. The bodies choked up the entrance, barring the egress of those behind. Neither age nor youth, sex, quality or condi- tion were sacred in the awful battle in the doorway. The gray and aged, rich, poor, young and those obviously invalids in life lay in a tangled mass all on an awful footing of equality in silent annihilation. "Within and above equal terrors were encountered in what at first seemed countless victims. Lights, patience and hard work brought about some semblance of system and at last word was given that the last body had been removed from the charnel house. A large police detail surrounded the place all night and with the break of day search of the premises was renewed, none being admitted save by presentation of a written order from Chief of Police O'Neill. Fire engines pumped away removing the lake of water that flooded the basement to the depth of ten feet. As the flood was lowered it began to be apparent that the basement was free of dead. SURVEY SCENE WITH HORROR. . t "Searchers gazing down from the heights of the upper bal- cony surveyed the scene of death below with horror stamped upon their faces. Fire had left its terrifying blight in a color- less, garish monotony that suggests the burned-out crater of IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. 43 an extinct volcano. In the wreckage, the scattered garments and purses, fragments of charred bodies and other debris strewn within thousands of bits of brilliantly colored glass, lay as they fell shattered in the fight against the flames. A few skulls were seen. FIND BUSHELS OF PURSES. ...: "Five bushel baskets were filled with women's purses gath- ered by the police. A huge pile of garments was removed to a near-by saloon, where an officer guards them pending re- moval to some more appropriate place. The shoes and over- shoes picked up among the seats fill two barrels to overflowing. "The fire manifested itself in the flies above the stage dur- ing the second act. The double octette was singing 'In the Pale Moonlight' when the tragedy swept mirth and music aside, to give way to a more somber and frightful performance. Confusion on the stage, panic in the auditorium, phenomenal spread of the incipient blaze, failure of the asbestos fire curtain to fall in place when lowered followed in rapid progress, with the holocaust as the climax." But to return to the narrative of what happened immediately after the, first alarm, as gathered by the collaborators of this work. There was a wild, futile dash futile because few of the terrified participants succeeded in reaching the outer air. Persons in the rear of the theater building knew full well that a holocaust was in progress. There fire escapes and stage doors thronged with refugees, half clad and hysterical chorus girls flocking into the alley, and crackling flames leaping higher and higher from the flimsy stage and bursting from windows, told only too plainly what was in progress within. At the front, half a block distant, in Randolph street, ominous silence maintained. A mere handful of people burst out, those 44 IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER, who had occupied rear seats and pushed by the ushers who sought to restrain them and quiet their fears. Loiterers about the ornate- lobby scarcely sniffed a suggestion of impending disaster before the fire apparatus began to arrive with clanging bells. who held back the straining, anxious specta- tors who sought escape at the first mild suggestion of clanger for what widespread woe are they responsible 1 Mere boys of tender years and meager experience, what knew they of the awful possibilities behind the spell of ex- citement upon the> stage ? Only two weeks before there had been an incipient blaze there that had b^en extinguished with- out the knowledge of the audience. Like all the rest of the world that now stands in shuddering wonderment, these boys scoffed at the thought of real danger in the massive pile of steel, stone and terra cotta; with its brave and shimmering veneer of glistening marble, stained glass of many hues, rich tapestries and drapings, and cold, aristocratic tints of red and old gold. And so with uplifted hands they turned back those whose sense of caution prompted them to leave at the outset. Surely disaster could not overtake the regal Iroquois in its first flush of pomp, pride and supe- riority. It was their sacred duty to , see that no unseemly break marred the decorum established for the guidance of audiences at the Iroquois, and that duty was fully discharged. . Thus it was that the wild hegira did not begin from the front until the arrival of the fire department. Then pande- monium itself broke loose. All restraining influences from the stage had ceased. At the appearance of the all-consuming wave of flame sweeping across the auditorium the boy ushers abandoned their posts and fled for their lives, leaving the packed audience to do the same unhampered. V/ IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. * Unhampered not quite"! Darkness descending upon the scene, doors locked against the frightened multitude, fire es- capes cut off by tongues of flame and exits and stairways choked with the bodies of those who died fighting to reach safety hampered many at least the six hundred carried out later mangled and roasted, tlieir features and limbs twisted and distorted until little semblance to humanity remained^- After the first wild dash, in which a large portion of those on the main floor escaped, the blackness of night settled upon the long marble foyer leading from Randolph street to the auditorium It settled in a cloud of black, fire laden smoke death in nebu- lous forms defying fire fighter and rescuer alike to enter the great corridor. None entered, and, more pitiful still, none came forth. While this situation maintained in front a vastly different scene unfolded in the rear. The theater formed a great L, extending north from Randolph street to an alley and, in the rear, west to Dearborn street. This last projection, the toe of the L, was occupied by the stage, theoretically the finest in America, if not in the world. Thus the auditorium and stage occupied the extreme northern part of the structure, parallel- ing an alley extending on a line with Randolph street from State street to Dearborn street. This alley wall was pierced by many windows and emergency exits and was studded with fire escapes built in the form of iron galleries, and stairways hugging close to the wall leading to the alley. To these exits and the long, grim galleries of fire escapes the herded, fire-hunted audience surged. Those who reached doors that responded to their efforts found themselves pushed along the galleries by the resistless crush behind. As was the case In front, half way to safety another stream of humanity was xcountered pouring out at right angles from another portion 46 1ROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. of the house. Coming together with the impact of opposing armies the two hosts of refugees gave unwilling and terrible answer to the time worn problem as to the outcome of an ir- resistible force encountering an immovable body. Both in front and rear great mounds of dead spelled annihilation as the answer. In front over 200 corpses piled in a twenty-foot angle of a stairway where two balcony exits merged told the terrible tale, and rendered both passages useless for egress, the dead being piled up in wall-like formation ten feet high. In the rear an alley strewn with mangled men, women and children writhing in agony on the icy, pavement, or relieved of their sufferings by death, lent eloquent corroboration to the solution of the problem. It was in the rear that the true horror of the fire was most fully disclosed. There no towering mosaic studded walls or kindly mantle of smoke shut out the horrid sight. From its opening scene to its silent, ghastly denouement the successive details of this greatest of modern tragedies was forced upon the view to be stamped upon the memory of the unwilling be- holder with an impressiveness that only death will blot out. After the first great impact had hurled the overflow of the fire-escape gallery into the alley yawning far below, the crush of humanity swept onward, downward to where safety beck- oned. \Yhen the advance guard had all but reached the pre- " cious goal, with only a few feet of iron gallery and one more stairway to traverse, the crowning horror of the day unfolded itself. Right in the path of the advancing horde a steel win- dow shutter flew back, impelled by the terrific energy of an immeasurable volume of pent up superheated air. The clang of the steel shutter swinging back on its hinges against the brick wall sounded the death knell of another host of/victims, for in its wake came a huge tongue of lurid flame IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. 4.7 leaping on high in the ecstasy of release from its stifling fur- nace. Fiercely in the faces of the refugees beat this agency of death. Before its withering blast the victims fell like prairie grass before an autumn blaze. Those further back waited for no more, but precipitated themselves headlong into the alley rather than face the fiery furnace that loomed up barring the way to hope. It would be well to draw the curtain upon this awful scene of suffering and death in the gloomy alley were it not for one circumstance that stands forth a glorious example of the heights that may be attained by the modest hero who moves about unsuspected in his daily life until calamity affords op- portunity to show the stuff he is made of. High up in the building occupied by the law, dental and pharmacy schools of the Northwestern University, directly across the alley from the burning theater, a number of such men were at work. They were horny handed sons of toil painters, paper hangers and cleaners repairing minor damage caused by an insignificant fire in the university building a few weeks before. One glance at the seething vortex of death below transformed them into heroes whose deeds would put many a man to shame whose memory is kept alive by stately column or flattering memorial tablet. Trailing heavy planks used by them in the erection of working scaffolds, they rushed to a window in the lecture room of the law school directly opposite the exit and fire escape platform leading from the topmost balcony of the theater. By almost superhuman effort and ingenuity they raised aloft the planks, scarce long enough to span the abyss, and dropped them. The prayers of thousands below and a multitude stifling in the aperture opposite were raised that the planks might fall true. All eyes followed their course as they poised in mid- 48 IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. air, then descended. Slow seemed their fall, a veritable period of torture, and awed silence reigned as they dropped. Then there arose a glad cry. With a crash the great planks landed true, the free ends squarely upon the edge of the plat- form of the useless fire escape, the others resting firmly upon the narrow window ledge where the painters stood defying flame, smoke and torrents of burning embers and blazing sparks hurled upon them as from the crater of a volcano. Death alley had been bridged! Across the narrow span came a volume of bedraggled humanity as though shot from . a gun. A mad, screaming stream, pushed on by those behind, simply whirled across the frail support, direct from the very jaws of death, the blistering gates of hell. Only for a moment, a brief second it seemed, the wild pro- cession moved. Yet in that limited period scores, perhaps hundreds, poured from the seething inferno practically all that escaped from the lofty balcony that was a moment later transformed into the death chamber of helpless hundreds. Then the wave of flame, previously described, swept over the interior of the theater, greedily searching every nook and cor- ner as though hungry for the last victim within reach. The last refugees to cross the narrow span, the dizzy line sharply drawn between life and death in its most terrifying as- pect, staggered over with their clothing in flames, gasping, fainting with pain and terror. The workmen, students and policemen who had rushed to their assistance dashed across into the heat and smoke and dragged forth many more who had reached the platform only to fall before the deadly blast. Then the rescuers were beaten back and the fire fiend was left to claim its own. And claim them it did, searching them out with ruminating tongues of flame Over every inch of paint and decoration,, IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. 49 , \ every tapestry, curtain and seat top it licked its way with insinuating eagerness. It pursued its victims beyond the con- fines of the theater walls, grasping in its deadly embrace those who lay across windows or prostrate on galleries and plat- forms. Thousands gazed on in helpless horror, watching the flames bestow a fatal caress upon many who had crept far, far from the blaze and almost into a zone of safety. With a glid- v ing, caressing movement that made beholders' blood run cold it crept upon such victims, hovered a moment and glided on with sinuous motion and what approached a suggestion of intelligence in searching out those who fled before it. A shriek, a spasmodic movement and the victims lay still, their earthly troubles over forever. A few minutes later, possibly not more than half an hour after the discovery of the fire, when the firemen had beaten back the flames to the raging stage another procession moved across that same plank again. It moved in silence, for it was a procession of death. The great tragedy began and ended in fifteen minutes. Its echoes may roll down as many cen- turies, compelling the proper safeguarding of all places of amusement, in America at least. Tf so, the Iroquois victims did not give up their lives in vain. When the removal of the victims across the improvised bridge over death alley ended the tireless official in charge of that work, James Markham, secretary to Chief of Police O'Neill, had checked off 102 corpses. No attempt was made to keep count of the dead as they were removed from other por- tions of the theater and by other exits. The counting was done when the patrol wagons, ambulances, trucks and delivery wagons used in removing the dead deposited their ghastly loads at the morgues, The instance cited was not an isolated example of heroism, 50 , IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. but rather merely a striking instance among scores. Police, firemen and citizens vied with each other in the work of hu- manity. Merchants drove out customers and threw open their business houses as temporary hospitals and morgues. Others donated great wagon loads of blankets and supplies of all kinds and the municipal government was embarrassed by the unsolicited relief funds that poured in. All manner of vehicles were given freely for the removal of dead and injured. So informal was the removal of the latter that many may have reached their homes unreported. For that reason a complete list of the injured may never be secured. An illustration of the possibilities in that direction is found in the case of one man who wrapped the dead body of his wife in his overcoat and carried it to Evanston, many miles away, where the circumstances became known days later when a burial permit was sought. Another is the case of an injured man who revived on a dead wagon en route to a morgue and was removed by friends. All these and other details are elaborated upon elsewhere, together with the touching story of the scores of young women employed in the production, "Mr. Bluebeard," who would have been stranded penniless in a strange city a thousand miles from home but for the prompt and noble relief afforded by Mrs. Ogden Armour. CHAPTER II. V FIRST AID TO THE INJURED AND CARE FOR THE DEAD. On the heels of the firemen came the police, intent on the work of rescue. Chief O'Neill and Assistant Chief Schuettler ordered captains from a dozen stations to bring their men, and then they rushed to the theater and led the police up the stairs to the landing outside the east entrance to the first balcony. The firemen, rushing blindly up the stairs in the dense pall of smoke, had found their path suddenly blocked by a wall of dead eight or ten feet high. They discovered many persons alive and carried them to safety. Other firemen crawled over the mass of dead and dragged their hose into the theater to fight back the flames that seemed to be crawling nearer to turn the fatal landing into. a funeral pyre. O'Neill and Schuettler immediately began carrying the dead from the balcony, while other policemen went to the gallery to begin the work there. In the great mass of dead at the entrance to the first balcony the bodies were so terribly interwoven that it was impossible at first to take any one out. "Look out for the living!" shouted the chief to his men. "Try to find those who are alive." From somewhere came a faint moaning cry. "Some one alive there, boys," came the cry. "Lively, now !' fil IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. The firemen and police long struggled in vain to move the bodies. The raging tide of humanity pouring out of the east en- trance of the balcony during the panic had met the fighting, struggling crowd coming down the stairs from the third bal- cony at right angles. The two streams formed a whirlpool which ceased its onward progress and remained there on the landing where people stamped each other under foot in that mad circle of death. In a short time the blockade in the fatal angle must have been complete. Then into this awful heap still plunged the contrary tides of humanity from each direction. Many tried to crawl over the top of the heap, but were drawn down to the grinding mill of death underneath. The smoke was heavy at the fatal angle, for the majority of those taken out at that point bore no marks of bruises. Many, and especially the children, were trampled to death, but others were held as ir\ a vise until the smoke had choked the life from their bodies. It was toward this that the firemen directed O'Neill and Schuettler as they rushed into the theater. The smoke was still heavy and the great gilded marble foyer of the "handsom- est theater in America" was somber and dark and still as a tomb, except for the whistling of the engines outside and now and then the shouting of the firemen. Water was dripping everywhere and stood inches deep on the floor and stairs. Two flickering lanterns shed the only light by which the policemen worked, and this very fact, perhaps, made their task more horrible and gruesome, if such a thing were possible. . IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. 53 GREAT PILE OF CHARRED BODIES FOUND EVERYWHERE IN THEATER. All through the gallery the bodies were found. Some were those of persons who had decided- to stay in their seats and not to join in the mad rush for the doors and run the risk of being trampled to death. Many of them no doubt had trusted to the cries, "There is no danger; keep your seats!" They had stuck to their seats until, choked by the heavy smoke, they had been unable to move. ?. Some bodies were in a sitting position, while others had /fallen forward, with the head resting on the seat in front, as / though in prayer. Almost all were terribly burned. i In the aisles lay women and children who had staid in their seats until they finally were convinced that the danger was real. Then they had attempted to get to the door. The smoke was so heavy the firemen worked with difficulty, but finally it cleared and workmen who were hastily sent by the Edison company equipped forty arc lights, which shone bravely through the smoke. With this help the firemen searched to better effect, and found bodies that in the blackness they had missed. "Give that girl to some one else and get back there," shouted Chief Musham to a fireman. The fireman never answered but kept on with his burden. "Hand that girl to some one else," shouted the battalion chief. The fireman looked up. Even in the flickering light of the lantern the chief carried one could see the tears coming from the red eyes and falling down the man's blackened cheeks. "Chief," said the fireman, "I've got a girl like this at home. I want to carry this one out." 54 IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. * "Go ahead," said the chief. The little group working at the head of the stairs broke apart while the fireman, holding the body tightly, made his way slowly down the stairs. One by one the dead were taken from the pile in the angle. The majority of them were women. On some faces was an expression of terrible agony, but on others was a look of calm- ness and serenity, and firemen sometimes found it hard to believe they were dead. Three firemen carried the body of a young woman down the stairs in a rubber blanket. She ap- peared alive. Her hands were clasped and held flowers. Her eyes were closed and she seemed almost to smile. She looked as though she was asleep, but it was the sleep of death. In the dark and smoke, with the dripping water and the dead piled in heaps everywhere, the Iroquois theater had been turned into a tomb by the time the rescue oarties had begun their work. MOAN INSPIRES WORKERS IN MAD EFFORT TO SAVE. The moan that the frantic workers heard as they struggled to untangle the mass of bodies gave the police hope that many in the heap might be alive. "We can't do it, chief," shouted one of the policemen. "We can't untangle them." "We must take these bodies out of the way to get down to those who are alive," replied the chief. "This man here is dead; lay hold, now, boys, and pull him out." Two big firemen caught the body by the shoulders and struggled and pulled until they had it free. Then another body was taken out, and then again the workers seemed un- able to unloose the dead. Again came that terrible moan through the mass. IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. 55 "For God's sake, get down to that one who's alive," im- plored O'Neill, almost ill despair. The policemen pulled off their heavy overcoats and worked frantically at the heap. Often a body could not be moved ex- cept when the firemen and police dragged with a "yo, heave," like sailors hauling on a rope. As fast as the bodies were freed one policeman, or sometimes two or three, would stag- ger down the stairs with their burdens. Over the heap of bodies crawled a fireman carrying some- thing in his arms. "Out of the way, men, let me out! The kid's alive." The workers fell back and the fireman crawled over the heap and was helped out. He ran down the stairs three steps at a time to get the child to a place where help might be given before it was too late. Then other firemen from inside the theater passed out more bodies, which were handed from one policeman to another until some on the outside of the heap could take the dead and carry them downstairs. Suddenly a policeman pulling at the heap gave a shout. "I've got her, chief !" he said. "She's alive, all right !" "Easy there, men, easy," cried Schuettler; "but hurry and get that woman to a doctor !" A girl, apparently 18 years old, was moaning faintly. The policeman released her from the tangled heap, and a big fire- man, lifting her tenderly in his arms, hurried with her to the outside of the building. "There must be more alive," said the chief. "Work hard, boys." There was hardly any need to ask the men to work harder, for they were pulling and hauling as though their own lives depended on their efforts. Everybody worked. The reporters, the only ones in ,the theater besides the police S 6 IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. and firemen, laid aside their pencils and note books and strug 1 gled down the wet, slippery stairs, carrying the dead. News- paper artists threw their sketch books on the floor to jump forward and pick up the feet or head of a body that a fireman or policeman found too heavy to carry alone. Constantly now a stream of workers was passing slowly down the stairs. Usually two men supported each body, but often some giant policeman or fireman strode along with a body swung over his shoulders. Coming down the stairs was a fireman with a girl of 1 6 clasped in his arms. "Isn't that girl alive?" asked the chief. "No," shouted two or three men, who had jumped to see. "She's dead, poor thing, rest her soul," said the fireman rever- ently, and then he picked his way down the stairs. Half-way down the marble steps two arms suddenly clasped the fireman's neck. He started so he missed his footing and would have fallen had not a policeman steadied him. "She's alive, she's alive 1" shouted the fireman. "Git out of the way, there, out of the way, men," and he went dashing headlong out into the open air and through the crowd to a drug store. One child after another was taken from the heap and passed out to be carried downstairs. Some were little boys in new suits, sadly torn, and with their poor little faces wreathed in agony. On their foreheads was the seal of death. A big fireman came crawling from the heavy smoke of the inner balcony. He carried a girl of 10 years in his arms. Her Icng, flaxen hair half covered the pure white face. A gray haired man with a gash on his head apparently had fallen down the stairs. A woman's face bore the mark of a boot heel. A woman with a little boy clasped tight in her IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. 57 arms was wedged into a corner. Her clothes were almost torn from her,' and her face was bruised. TJrhild was unmarked, as she had thrown her own body over tfis to protect him. Out of the mass of bodies when the police began their work protruded one slender little white hand, clinching a pair of pearl opera glasses, which the little owner had tried to save, in spite of the fact that her own life was being crushed out of her. Watches, pocketbooks and chatelaine bags were scattered all through the pile. One man was detailed to make a bag out of a rubber coat and take care of the property that was handed to him. While the police were working so desperately at the fatal angle, another detail of police and firemen were working on the third floor. At the main entrance of the gallery lay another heap of bodies, and there was still another at the angle of the head of the stairs leading to the floor below. Here the sight was even worse than the terrible scene presented at the landing of the first balcony. The bodies on the landing were not burned. A jam had come there, and many had been stamped under foot and either killed outright or left to suffocate. Many of the bodies were almost stripped of clothing and bore the marks of remorseless heels. ^ TWO BALCONY HEROES. A man who gave his name as Chester, with his wife and two daughters, was a hero who escaped without letting the police know who he was. This man was in the lower balcony of the theater and in the panic he succeeded in reaching the fire escape with his children and wife. After getting on the fire escape, the flames swept up and set the clothing of his wife and girls on fire. Burned himself, he fought the flame and then realizing that delay meant certain death he dropped the children to the ground, a distance of ten feet, and then dropped his wife. Then he leaped himself. W. G. Smith of the Chicago Teaming Company, 37 Dear- born street, saw them jumping and with some of his men he picked them up and carried them into his store. This was before the fire department arrived. When all had been taken in Smith rushed back into the alley to find the lower fire escape filled with screaming, strug- gling women. All were hatless and their faces were scorched by the intense heat. He shouted to them to wait a moment, as the firemen were coming, but one woman leaped as he spoke. She too was taken into Smith's store and all his patients were taken later to nearby hotels, where their injuries were attended to. After Smith left the alley Morris Eckstrom, assistant engineer, and M. J. Tierney, engineer of the university build- ing, ran to the rescue of the women on the fire escape. The firemen had not yet arrived, and the screams of the women with the flames creeping upon them were frightful to hear. 102 IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. "Jump one by one," shouted Eckstrom, "and we'll catch you." Tierney grabbed a long blanket from the engine room, and the women, realizing it was their only chance, leaped into it. In some cases they were injured, but none was seriously hurt. "I know we caught twenty women that way, before the flames got so terrific that none of them could reach the fire escape," said Eckstrom. "I saw a dozen women and chil- dren and some men, through the open door to the fire escape, fall back into the flames." THE MUSICAL DIRECTOR'S STORY. Musical Director Herbert Dillea of the "Mr. Bluebeard" company, who was one of the first of the members of the or- chestra to see the fire, had several narrow escapes from death while he endeavored to rescue four of the chorus girls who had fainted in the passageway which leads from the armor-room to the front smoking apartment. Dillea was nearly overcome by the thick smoke which filled the areaway, but, with the assistance of some of the stage em- ployes, he succeeded in carrying the unconscious actresses to the street. The young women, upon reaching the fresh air, soon revived, and they were taken care of in stores until (hey got their street clothing. Dillea said that several other members of the orchestra vainly endeavored to persuade some of the audience who were occupying front seats to enter the passageway, but no atten- tion was paid to them. In describing his experiences Dillea said: "It was during the second verse of the Tale Moonlight* song that I suddenly saw a red light to my left in the pros- cenium arch. The moment I saw the red glare I knew there i IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. 103 was a fire, and in whispers I ordered the other members of the orchestra to play as fast as they could, as I thought the as- bestos would be lowered. We had hardly begun to play when the asbestos started to come down, but right in the middle it stopped, and it remained so. "By this time the chorus girls were shrieking with terror, as the fire brands were falling among them on the stage. As soon as the audience saw the fire brands they began to arise, but Eddie Foy ran out and begged them to remain quiet, as- suring them that there was no danger. The audience paid no attention to him and the panic followed. Then I thought it was time to make our escape, and I turned to the orchestra men and told them to follow me to the passageway. While I was running through the areaway I shouted to the actresses. They ran from their rooms, and four of them fainted. It was only with the greatest difficulty they were carried out." CHILD SAVES HIS BROTHER. Willie Dee, the 12-year-old son of Mr. and Mrs. W. E. Dee, who lost two children in the fire, by a presence of mind and bravery that would have been commendable in a person of mature years saved himself and a smaller brother not 7 years old. The four children of Mr. and Mrs. Dee attended the the- ater on the fatal afternoon in company with their nurse, Mrs. G. H. Errett. Besides Willie, the oldest of the children, there were two twin boys, Allerton and Edward, between 6 and 7 years of age, and the baby 2^ years old. Willie was one of the first to notice the fire and called to the nurse to go out. The nurse did not grasp the situation, thinking the flames a part of the act, and hesitated. Noticing her hesitation, Willie seized the nearest one of the children, Allerton and pulled the 104 IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. smaller boy with him down the stairs from the fifrst balcony in which the party was seated. The two boys were unable to niove fast enough to keep ahead of the crowd, although they were the first ones out. They were overtaken and both of them shoved through the doors in front, where they became separated. Willie thought his little brother lost and went home without him. The smaller boy was later picked up and taken into Thompson's restaurant, from which place he was taken home, practically uninjured. The other twin, Edward, was killed where he sat. The nurse and baby succeeded in reaching the first landing, where they were trampled underfoot. A fireman took the baby from the nurse's arms and placed it in charge of Dr. Bridge. The doctor succeeded in resuscitating it and took it to his home at Forty-ninth street and Cottage Grove avenue, where it died early the following morning. CHAPTER VII. THE ORIGIN OF THE FIRE THE ASBESTOS CUR- TAIN AND THE LIGHTS. The real story of the origin of the fire was tola by Wil- liam McMullen, assistant electrician. He said: "The spot light was completely extinguished at the time of the fire. I am positive of this, because I was working on it. Three feet above my head was the flood light. I noticed the curtain swaying directly above it and suddenly a spark shot up and it was ablaze in a second." McMullen called the attention of his assistant to the flame. "Put the fire out," he said. "All right," said the other man, reaching down, using his hands to put out the small flame. "Put it out! Put it out!" shouted McMullen. "I am ! I am !" said the other, clapping the flimsy stuff be- tween his hands. Some of the stage hands at this moment noticed the fire. "Look at that fire!" these called out. "Can't you see that you're on fire up there ! Put it out !" "D it, I am trying to," said the man who was clapping away at the burning paint impregnated muslin. Then a flame a foot high shot up and caught the draperies above those on fire. "Look at that other one. It's on fire," some one on the stage yelled. "Put it out !" shouted another. "All right," said the man on the perch. But he did not 105 io6 S IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. clap hard enough or fast enough, and in ten seconds the flames were beyond his reach. It was after these hand clapping attempts to extinguish the fire had proved futile that McMullen shouted a call for the asbestos curtain to be put down. "I did not see the curtain move." ANOTHER ACCOUNT OF THE FIRE'S ORIGIN. W. H. Aldridge, who was employed to operate one of the so-called calcium lights, told how the fire started. "I w.as about twenty feet above the lights which were be- ing used, having left my place to watch the performance," he said. "While I was looking down on the performers I no- ticed a flash of light where the electric wires connect with the calcium light. The flash seemed to be about six inches long. As I looked a curtain swayed against the flame. In a moment the loose edges of the canvas were in a blaze, which rapidly ran up the edge of the canvas and across its upper end. "A man named McNulty was in charge of the light. Wheth- er he accidentally broke the wire and caused the flash I do not know. The light was about twenty feet from the floor. It consisted of a 'spot' light, used to follow the principal per- former, and a 'flood' light, which was used to produce the moonlight effect." WERE ELECTRIC LIGHTS TURNED OUT? James B. Quinn, general manager of the Standard Meter company, who was present throughout the panic, said on this point: "Had the electrician who had charge of the switches for the foyer lights remained at his post long enough to have turned on the lights in the foyer there would not have been one-half the loss of life in the foyer and balcony stairs. When IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. 107 that awful darkness fell on the house the frenzied people did not know where to turn. They had not become fully ac- quainted with the turns because the theater was new. I was there and assisted in removing- the dead and dying-, and hav- ing been connected with lighting- plants all my life I know what I am talking about. We did not have an electric light turned on for two hours after the fire. It was too late then. True, we had lanterns, but they were inadequate and would not have been needed had the electrician or his assistant done their duty. When the lights were turned on it was done by, outside electricians." STATEMENT OF MESSRS. DAVIS AND POWERS, MANAGERS OF THE THEATER. When the fire broke out Manager Will J. Davis of the Iro quois was attending a funeral. A telephone message was quietly whispered to him and, after hesitating a moment, Davis unostentatiously slipped on his overcoat and left the place. Mr. Davis and Harry J. Powers later stated as follows: "So far as we have been able to ascertain the cause or causes of the most unfortunate accident of the fire in the Iroquois, it appears that one of the scenic draperies was no- ticed to have ignited from some cause. It was detected be- fore it had reached an appreciable flame, and the city fireman who is detailed and constantly on duty when the theater is open noticed it simultaneously with the electrician. "The fireman, who was only a few feet away, immediately pulled a tube of kilfire, of which there were many hung about the stage, and threw the contents upon the blaze, which would have been more than enough, if the kilfire had been effective, to have extinguished the flame at once; but for some cause io8 IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. inherent in the tube of kilfire it had no effect. The fireman and electrician then ordered down the asbestos curtain, and the fireman threw the contents of another tube of kilfire upon the flame, with no better result. "The commotion thus caused excited the alarm of the au- dience, which immediately started for the exits, of which there are twenty-five of unusual width, all opening out, and ready to the hand of any one reaching them. The draft thus caused, it is believed, before the curtain could be entirely low- ered, produced a bellying of the asbestos curtain, causing a pressure on the guides against the solid brick wall of the pros- cenium, thus stopping its descent. "Every effort was made by those on the stage to pull it down, but the draft was so great, it seems, that the pressure against the proscenium wall and the friction caused thereby was so strong that they could not be overcome. The audience became panic-stricken in their efforts to reach the exits and tripped and fell over each other and blocked the way. "The audience was promptly admonished and importuned by persons employed on the stage and in the auditorium to be calm and avoid any rush; that the exits and facilities for emptying the theater were ample to enable them all to get out without confusion. "No expense or precaution was omitted to make the theater as fireproof as it could be made, there being nothing com- bustible in the construction of the house except the trimmings and furnishings of the stage and auditorium. In the build- ing of the theater we sacrificed more space to aisles and exits than any theater in America." ' \ - ' IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. 109 FIRST RELIABLE STATEMENT AS TO WHY THE CURTAIN DID NOT COME DOWN. The man who gave the first reliable explanation of the fail- ure of the "asbestos" curtain to operate properly was John C. Massoney, a carpenter, who was working as a scene shifter. "The reflector was constructed of galvanized iron or some similar material, with a concave surface covered with quick- silver about two feet in width," he said. "The reflector was twenty feet long and was set on end. The inner edge was attached to the stage side of the jamb of the proscenium walls with hinges. Along the inner edge, next the hinges, was a row of incandescent electric lamps. "When the reflector was not in use it was set back in a niche in the proscenium wall, and the curtain, when lowered, passed over it. When used it was swung around to the de- sired position, and projected from the wall. When the re- flector was in use it prevented the curtain being lowered. !" "I have not ascertained whether the reflector was in use. The one on the south side of the stage was not, and from this I infer that the one on the north was not being used. If it was not in use, then somebody must have been careless." Massoney said he was on the south side of the stage when the fire started. "I did not see the fire start, but I saw it soon after it be- gan," he said. "The fire was in the arch drapery curtain, which is the fourth curtain back of the 'asbestos' curtain. I saw the 'asbestos' curtain coming down soon after, but I no- ticed that the south end was very much lower than the north end. The south end was within four or five feet of the stage floor, while the north end was much higher. "T ran round to the north side and up the stairs to the north i io IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. bridge. I found the north end of the curtain was resting on the reflector. I tried to reach the curtain to push it off the reflector, but could just touch it. I could not get hold of it. I am 5 feet n inches tall, and I can reach a foot above my head at least, so I figure that the north end of the curtain was 'nineteen or twenty feet from the floor. "When I first reached the bridge sparks ,were flying in one little place near me, but before I got down I saw a great sheet of circular flame going out under the curtain into the audience room. I stayed on the bridge as long as I could trying to move the curtain. I half fell down the stairs of the bridge and got out as fast as I could." "Why didn't you call some one to help you?" "There was no one on the bridge when I got there and no one on duty, that I could see, on the north side of the stage." "Was the reflector in use?" "I do not know." "Whose duty was it to look after the reflector?" "I do not know." "Did the curtain blow to pieces?" "It seemed all right. There was no hole in it that I saw." ANOTHER STORY AS TO WHY THE CURTAIN DID NOT LOWER. Joe Dougherty, the man who attempted to lower the as- bestos curtain, says that the reason it stuck and would not come down was that it stuck on the arc spot light in the first entrance near the top of the proscenium arch. He was the last man to leave the fly loft and at the time he attempted to lower the asbestos curtain he was twenty feet or more above it, so that when it caught on the arc spot light he was unable to extricate it. The opening of the big double doors IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. in at the rear of the stage, he says, caused such a draft that the curtain could not be raised again to free it from the obstruc- tion. Dougherty denies that the wire used by the flying ballet had anything tt> do with the obstruction of the curtain. The regular curtain was within a few inches of the asbestos sheet and had been operated a few minutes before the fire occurred. If one curtain worked the other would if the flying ballet rig- ging was not in the way. THE THEATER FIREMAN'S NARRATIVE. W. C. Sailer was the fireman employed by the theater man- agers to look after fire protection. He was formerly con- nected with the city fire department. "I was on the floor of the stage about twenty feet from the light," he said. "The base of the light was on a bridge fifteen feet from the floor. The light was about five feet high and was within a foot and a half or two feet of the edge of the proscenium arch and close to the curtains. I saw the flame running up the edge of the curtain and ran to the bridge. I threw kilfire on the burning curtain but saw it did not stop the blaze and yelled to those below to lower the asbestos cur- tain. When the curtain was within fifteen feet of the stage floor the draft caused it to bulge out and stick fast. It was impossible to lower the curtain further, and after that nothing could be done to stop the fire. "In my opinion the draft was caused by the doors opening off the stage into the alley and Dearborn street. There were no explosions except the blowing out of fuses in the electric lighting system." Sailer was severely burned about the hands and fac* 112 1ROQUO1S THEATER DISASTER. THE STAGE CARPENTER. Edward Cummings, stage carpenter, and his son, R. N. Cummings, his assistant, of 1116 California avenue, testified that the fire started in the curtains at the south end of the stage. Both asserted that the draft or suction caused the asbestos curtain to stick. They said the fire spread with remarkable rapidity among the curtains, which were about two feet apart, and when the asbestos curtain stopped they said that no hu- man agency could have prevented the disaster that followed. THE CHIEF ELECTRICAL INSPECTOR'S TALE. Chief Electrical Inspector H. H. Hornsby of the city elec- trician's department declared the electric wires in the theater were in the best condition of any building in Chicago. "The wire leading to the calcium arc light might have been broken or detached," he said. "It requires no volts of elec- trkity to operate one of those lights. The man operating the light may have got his legs or arms entangled in the wires and broken one of them at the point of connection or he may have pulled the light too far and broken or detached the wire. The arc created would have produced intense heat and readuy ignited the inflammable curtain. If the light had not been, Set so close to the scenery the curtain could not have blown into the arc. "While the theater was being wired Inspector B. H. Tous- ley made twenty-five or thirty inspections. Though the ord- inance requires only such wires as are concealed to be placed in iron conduits, in the Iroquois all wires were put in iron tubes. The switchboard was of marble, with the connect- ing wires behind it in iron conduits. The management seemed desirous of making the electric system the best possible and adopted every suggestion we offered to improve its safety. I IROOUOIS THEATER DISASTER. 1 13 am satisfied there was not a better job in Chicago. I do not believe it coulc^ have been made safer. "It is impossible to guard against a wire being broken. The wire leading from the switchboard could not be inclosed in an iron conduit. It had to be flexible to permit the light be- ing moved around. The arc light was encased in a closed box to prevent sparks falling on the floor or being blown into the scenery. All the fusible plugs were in cartridges to pre- vent sparks from falling if the plugs burned out. Every precaution we could think of was taken to make the system absolutely safe." ONE OF THE COMEDIANS SPEAKS. Herbert Cawthorn, the Irish comedian, who took the part of Pat Shaw in "Mr. Bluebeard," assisted many of the chorus girls from the stage exits in the panic. After being driven from the building he made two attempts to enter his dressing room, but was driven back by the firemen, who feared lest he be overcome by the dense smoke. With several others of the leading actors in the play Mr. Cawthorn took refuge in a store on Dearborn street after the fire. He was still in his abbreviated stage costume and was suffering considerably from the cold. He gave a graphic description of the origin of the fire and of the panic among the stage hands and actors. He described the scene as follows: "I was in a position to see the origin of the fire plainly, and I feel positive that it was an electric calcium light that started the fire. The calcium lights were being used to il- luminate the stage in the latter part of the second act, when the song, 'In the Pale Moonlight,' was being sung. "I was standing behind a wing on the lefthand side, whir' 114 IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. would be the righthancl side to the audience, when my atten- tion was attracted above by a peculiar sputtering of what seemed to me to be one of the calciums. It appears to me that one of the calciums had flared up and the sparks ignited the lint on the curtain. Instantly I turned my attention to- ward the stage and saw that many of the actors and actresses had not yet discovered the blaze. "Just then the fireman who is kept behind the scenes rushed up with some kind of a patent fire extinguisher. Instead of the stream from the apparatus striking the flames it went al- most in the opposite direction. While the stage fireman was working the flames suddenly swooped down and out. Eddie Foy shouted something about the asbestos curtain, and the firemen attempted to use it and the stage hands ran to his assistance. "The asbestos curtain refused to work, and the stage hands and players began to hurry from the theater. There was at least 500 people behind the scenes when the fire started. I assisted many of the chorus girls to get out, and some of them were only partly attired. Two of the young women in par- ticular were naked from their waists up. They had absolutely no time to even snatch a bit of clothing to throw over their shoulders." ABOUT THE LIGHTS. A dozen different stories from a dozen different people were told about the extinguishment of the. electric lights. As- sistant City Electrician Hyland, who was the acting head of the city's department during the absence of City Electrician Ellicott, stated: "The switchboard controlling the electric lighting appara- tus is located under the place where the fire started at the left IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. 115 side of the stage. It was made of metal and marble and practically indestructible. The wires were led into the switch- board through iron tubes, and those tubes and wires are there yet. I visited the theater after the fire and turned on five sets of lights. Those five were in working order, but I think they controlled the lights into the foyer and halls. The lights in the theater were burned out. That I know, because when I paid my first visit to the switchboard I found the switch affecting the lights in the auditorium turned on. The terrific heat in the theater when the fire was sweep- ing across it must have burst the glass bulbs and may have melted the wires leading into the lights in the auditorium. How many minutes it took to explode these incandescent lights and melt the wires running to them depends entirely upon the length of time it took the theater to turn into a furnace. "I have been told that a moonlight scene was on the stage just before the fire broke out. In such a scene it would be customary to turn off most if not all of the lights in the audi- torium, so as to darken the place where the audience was and concentrate upon the stage what little light was used. Yet, the way I found the switchboard, with the circuit leading to the auditorium turned on, the knob melted off and the condi- tion of the board showing that it could not have been tam- pered with since the fire, convinces me that the lights must have been on when the fire broke out, or else they were turned on after the first flames were discovered. It is hard to discover the facts even from people who were in the theater at the time it was burned. Almost every one tells a different story." CHAPTER VIII. SUGGESTIONS OF ARCHITECTS AND OTHER EX- PERTS AS TO AVOIDING LIKE CALAMITIES. Robert S. Lindstrom, a well known Chicago architect, makes the following 1 suggestions: "It is earnestly requested that the following suggestions be published for the benefit and warning of patrons of public places, also as an aid to city of- ficials, architects and builders, as a possible means of averting another horror such as has been witnessed in the Iroquois theater fire. "Every theater in Chicago is virtually a death trap set for patrons even under ordinary conditions. Barring fires and panics, the playhouses are not amply provided with exits, and are unsafe on account of overcrowding. Thereby each person attending a performance in any of Chicago's theaters does so at a risk of his own life. This also applies to all halls that are hurriedly arranged for public meetings and especially during the election campaign work and convention gatherings. "A theater may be absolutely fire-proof, but whe*n the seat- nig capacity of the house has been overcrowded by reducing sizes of stairs, aisles and exits the building is really worse than a non-fire-proof building, for in the latter the smoke would have a chance to escape. "The following suggestions will partially avert such a hor- ror as has been witnessed at the Iroquois, which was adver- tised as the safest fire-proof theater in Chicago: "All seats throughout the house should be placed far enough apart from back to back so that an open passageway running lie .' -V IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. 117 from aisle to aisle shall be large enough to allow a person to get out without disturbing all the people seated in the sec- tion. In the Iroquois the seats in the gallery are so closely spaced from back to back that one cannot sit in a comfortable position at any time. All seats should be made of iron frame- work, with seats fixed so that danger of catching clothing on upturned edges may be averted, which in the present theater seats causes very much delay in a rush. The upholstering should be done with asbestos wool and all covering done with asbestos fire-resisting cloth. "An aisle should be left between the orchestra and the front row of seats. Main aisles should be made so that they con- nect with the aisle in front, also the aisle in rear, without any obstructions, and an exit door placed at end of each aisle lead- ing directly to the vestibule. The present system is one large door at the center so that people from the side aisles collide with those from the center aisles and no one can get out. It is also very important that the door opening, with doors open, is a trifle larger than the aisle; all seats that face on aisles to be plain to prevent clothing from catching on same. "Carpets should be prohibited in all halls and aisles and re- placed by interlocking rubber tile or some similar covering to prevent slipping in a rush. "All steps should have safety treads, composed of steel and lead, in place of slate or marble, which becomes slippery and dangerous. Stairs to be straight without winds or turns and at every ten feet from the sidewalk there should be a landing twice as long as the width of the stairs and doors at the foot of the stairs should be a trifle larger than the stair opening. "All balconies and galleries above the first floor should have a metal hand rail back of each row of seats securely fast- ened to the floor construction. u8 IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. "Doors should swing out; in addition to door handle thres- hold to have an automatic opening device so as to throw doors open in case of fire or accident. Also at each fire exit there should be in view of the audience a box containing saw and tools and plainly marked for use in case of fire, providing locks on doors fail to work. In addition an attendant should be placed at each fire exit and remain there until the house is vacated during every performance. "Fire escapes should be made of regular stair pattern with treads eleven inches and rises seven inches, and treads pro- vided with steel and lead composition covering and risers closed. "Instead of sloping the ceiling toward the stage it should be made level with a cone shape toward the center and there connect with a down draft ventilator and an emergency damp- er controlled by a three-way switch from stage, box office and each balcony, made large enough to form a smoke flue in case of fire. Wires controlling this ventilator should run in con- duit fireproofed and in addition to switch an electric emerg- ency switch weighted with a fused link to make a contact when link breaks. Same to apply to stage, halls and stairways, except that fireproof ducts will connect halls and stairs with outer air. In addition to the ventilator every part of the house should be equipped with a system of sprinklers operated automatically by a gravity system. A large glass chandelier such as used at the Iroquois should be prohibited. "Emergency lights in case of fire and accidents during the performance to light up the house should be placed on ceiling of main auditorium, balconies, halls and stairs and built of fire-proof boxes with wired plate-glass face. These lights should be operated on a separate system and run in fireproof IROQUO1S THEATER DISASTER. 119 conduits, and controlled from the street front, also to have a fusible weighted switch on stage. "Fire doors should be constructed of steel with wired plate- glass panels so that fire can be prevented from outside sources, but if in case of accident the lock should fail to work from the inside, the glass panel can be broken with tools that should be placed in reach and plainly marked. "Calcium lights should be prohibited anywhere in the audi- torium. The place is generally on the gallery. In the Iro- quois the scenic lights were placed at the extreme top of the upper gallery, with a supporting framework that rested on the aisle floor and obstructed aisle to audience. "Counter-weights of curtain should be made in sections with fusible link connections so that in case of fire curtain will drop of its own weight. "Curtain should be constructed of steel framework and made rigid and run in steel guides of sufficient size to allow for expansion in case of fire. Stage floor should be four in- ches thick, solid, laid on concrete bed. "A special waiting room with a special exit, entrance to same to be from main foyer, should be used especially for pa- trons using carriages so as to prevent the present system of blocking exits and vestibule with people waiting for carriages and preventing exit of crowd. "On stage of every theater there should be a fire plug, also a hose long enough to reach any part of the house, to run on a reel. "A loss of life in a panic cannot be entirely prevented, but some of the above suggestions if carried out will, at least, prevent a wholesale loss of human life. "All theaters should be thoroughly investigated and where the slightest detail is found to conflict with the law and the 120 IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. safety of an audience the city officials should prevent the use of such house until it has been properly constructed." THE ARCHITECT SPEAKS. Benjamin H. Marshall, architect of the theater, received the news of the disaster in Pittsburgh Pa., and at once started for Chicago. He was stunned by the intelligence, and, speaking of it, said: "This seems to be a calamity that has no precedent, and I can not understand how so many people were caught in the balconies unless they were stunned by the shock of an ex- plosion. There were ample fire exits and they were avail- able. The house could have been emptied in less than five minutes if they were all utilized. The fact that so many peo- ple were caught in the balconies would prove that they were stunned and panic-stricken by the report rather than by the fear of a fire. It is difficult for me at this time to even guess as to the cause for the great loss of life. "I am completely upset by this disaster, more so because I have built many theaters and have studied every playhouse disaster in history to avoid errors." EXAMINATION BY ARCHITECTURAL EDITOR. Robert Craik McLean, editor of the Inland Architect, who spent some time investigating the claim that the theater was equipped with an asbestos fire curtain, said: "After a care- ful investigation, I am convinced that the theater was not equipped with a curtain such as is demanded by the city ord- inances. "I visited the damaged theater, but there was no sign of an asbestos curtain. Fire will not destroy asbestos, and if there was a curtain there when the holocaust occurred it had been IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER, 121 removed, and an investigation should be made to learn what became of it. If no curtain had been removed, as is claimed, I cannot understand how the claim can be set up that the the- ater had a fire curtain. No one denies that there was a cur- tain there, but had it been made of asbestos, as required by the ordinance, it would not have been destroyed by the draft of air, as is claimed by the management of the house. An asbestos curtain must have a foundation of wire or some oth- er material, and had the Iroquois been equipped with such a drop the wire screen, at least, would be there to prove it." "Mr. Samuel Frankenstein of the Frankenstein Calcium Light company, made the statement to me that he had had a conversation with the stage manager of the Iroquois regard- ing the fire drop. Mr. Frankenstein said that the stage man- ager told him that the Iroquois stage was not equipped with a true fire curtain. According to Mr. Frankenstein, the stage manager went further than this, and declared that there were only three theaters in Chicago equipped with real asbestos drops." I PROPOSED PRECAUTIONS FOR NEW YORK THEATERS. Charles H. Israels of the firm of Israels & Harder, archi- tects of the new Hudson theater, and several of the large ho- tels, suggested a number of precautions which might be adopt- ed in New York theaters. Among other things he advocated an ordinance requiring all the theater emergency exits to be used after each performance. "Nearly every modern theater in this city," Mr. Israels said, "is adequately provided with exits, with which the au- dience are not familiar, and which are used so seldom that the employes are unusued to having the audience pass out 122 IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. through them. Besides the one exit ordinarily in use there are four emergency exits, and the law requires them to open either on a brick enclosed alley at the side of the theater or directly into the street. "The people in the gallery, who are in the place of the greatest danger, would undoubtedly become thoroughly ac- customed to using these outside stairways. "The main advantage to be gained by this suggestion over all others is that it could be put into immediate operation without the spending of a single cent on the part of the own- ers of most of New York's playhouses. "In a few of the theaters it might be argued that the stair- ways at the emergency exits were not sufficiently inclosed to allow the crowds to pass down in safety. The law now re- quires the stairways to be covered at the top, and covering the outside rail with heavy wire mesh raised about two feet above its present level would prevent any one from falling over the side. "Fireproof scenery or scenery which will at least not flame, is a practical possibility now. The building code should com- pel the use of scenery on frames of light metal covered with canvas that has been saturated in a fireproof solution. Fire- proof paint is compulsory on the woodwork behind the pros- cenium wall, but in painting scenery combustible paint may be used. "The law should be most strictly enforced as to the clean- ing out of rubbish beneath the stage. In a number of the theaters of New York this is done only occasionally." CHAPTER IX. THIRTY EXITS, YET HUNDREDS PERISH IN AWFUL BLAST. Those in greatest danger througli proximity to the stage did not throw their weight against the mass ahead. Not many died on the first floor, proof of the contention that some restraint existed in this section of the audience. Women were trodden under foot near the rear; some were injured. The most at this point, however, were rescued by the determined rush of the policeman at the entrance and of the doorkeeper and his assistants. The theater had thirty exits. All were opened before the fire reached full headway, but some had to be forced opened. Only one door at the Randolph street entrance was open, the others being locked, according, it appears, to custom. From within and without these doors were shattered in the first two minutes after the fire broke out by theater employes, according to one report, by the van of the fleeing multitude and the first of the rescuers from the street, according to another. The doors to the exits on the alley side, between Randolph and Lake streets, in one or more instances, are declared by those who escaped to have been either frozen or rusted. They opened to assaults, but priceless seconds were lost. Before this time Foy had run back across the stage and reached the alley. With him fled the members of the aerial ballet, the last of the performers to get out. The aerialists 124 IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. j owed their lives to the boy in charge of the fly elevator. They were aloft, in readiness for their flight above the heads of the audience. The elevator boy ran his cage up even with the line of fire, took them in, and brought them safely down. As Foy and the group reached the outer doorway the stage loft collapsed and tons of fire poured over the stage. Tjie lights went out in the theater with this destruction of the switchboard and all stage connections. One column of flame rose and swished along the ceiling of the theater. Then this awful illumination also was swallowed up. None may paint from personal understanding that which took place ir> that pit of flame lit darkness. None lives to tell it. To those still caught in the structure the light of life went out when the electric globes grew dark. In spite of the terrible form, of their destruction, it came swiftly enough to shorten pain. This at least was true of those~ who died in the second balcony, striving to reach the alley exits abreast of them. Six and seven feet deep they were found, not packed in layers but jumbled and twisted in the struggle with one an- otherj? Op'posite the westernmost exit of the balcony on the allev was a room in the Northwestern University building (the old Tremont house) where painters were working, wiping out the traces of another fire. They heard the sound of the detonation of the fuse; they heard the rush of feet toward the exit across the way. Out on the iron stairway came a man, pushed by a power behind, himself crazy with fear. He would have run down the iron fire escape, but flames burst out of the exit beneath and wrapped themselves around the iron ladder. IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. 125 HORRIBLE SIGHT MET THE FIREMEN UPON ENTERING AUDITORIUM. The postures in which death was met showed how the end had come to many. A husband and wife were locked so tightly in one another's arrris that the bodies had to be taken out together. A wom- an had thrown her arms around a child in a vain effort to save her. Both were burned beyond recognition. The sight of the children's bodies broke down the com- posure of the most restrained of the rescuers. As little form after form was brought out the tears ran down the faces of policemen, firemen and bystanders. Small hands were clenched before childish faces fruitless attempts at protec- tion from the scorching blast. Most of the children could be recognized. Fate allowed that thin shadow of mercy. They fell beneath their taller com- panions. The flames reached them, but they were face down- ward, other forms were above them, and generally their fea- tures were spared. The persons crowded off the fire escape platform, and those who jumped voluntarily by their own death saved persons on the lower floor from injury. Scores jumped from the exits at the first balcony, the first to death and injury, the ones behind to comparative safety on the thick cushion of the bod- ies of those who preceded them and who fell from the bal- cony above. Other hundreds from the main floor jumped on to the same cushion an easy distance of six feet without any injury. When the firemen came they spread nets, but the nets were black, and in the gloom they could not be seen. They saved few lives argument for the use of white nets hereafter. 126 IROQU01S THEATEK DISASTER. The chain of mishaps surrounding the catastrophe extended to the fire alarm. There was no fire alarm box in front of the theater, as at other theaters. A stage hand ran down the alley to South Water street and by word of mouth turned in a "still" alarm to No. 13. The box alarm did not follow for some precious minutes. At least four minutes were lost in this way. Of the 900 persons seated in t^ie first and second balconies few if any escaped without serious injury. So fiercely the fire burned during the short time in which hundreds of lives were sacrificed that the velvet cushions of the balcony seats were burned bare. The crowds fought so in their efforts to escape that they tore away the iron railings of the balconies, leaping upon the people below. From 3 o'clock, when the alarm was sent in, to 7:30 o'clock, when the doors of the theater were closed, the charred, torn, and blistered bodies were carried from the building at the rate of four a minute. One hundred were taken out) across the plank way. Many blankets filled with fragments of human bodies were taken from the building. Hundreds of bodies were taken frorp the building, their clothing gone, their faces charred beyond recognition. Under pretense of serving as rescuers ghouls gained entrance to the theater and robbed the dead and dying in the midst of the fire. Men fell on their knees and prayed. Men and women cursed. A rush was made for the Randolph street exits. In their fear the crowds forgot the many side exits, and rushed for the doors at which they had entered the theater. Little boys and girls were thrown to one side by their stronger companions. IROQUO1S THEATER DISASTER. 127 Ten baskets of money and jewelry thrown in this manner were picked up from the main floor when the fire was extin- guished. Men and women tore their clothing from them. As the first rush was made for the foyer entrance to the balconies men, women and children were thrown bodily down the steps. A few score of those nearest the doorways escaped by fall- ing or being thrown down the stairs of the main balcony en- trances. Scores were wedged in the doorways, pinned by the force of those behind them. There in the narrow aisle at the bal- cony entrances they were suffocated and fell tons of human weight. All succeeded in leaving their seats in the first balcony. Climbing over the seats and rushing up the slanting aisles to the level aisles above, they fought their way. Those at the bottom of the mass were burned but little. The top layer of bodies was burned till they never can be identified. Darkness shrouded the theater with its hundreds of dead when the fire was under control that the building could be en- tered. The firemen were forced to work in smoky darkness when they started carrying the bodies from the balconies. THE GALLERY HORROR. James M. Strong, a Chicago board of trade clerk, the sole survivor of all the occupants of the gallery who tried to es- cape through the locked door, smashed with his fist a glass transom and climbed through it. Three members of his fam- ily, who followed him down the passageway, shared the fate of others. Their bodies since have been discovered, burned Almost beyond recognition. 128 IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. "If the door hadn't been locked hundreds of persons could have saved 'their lives," said Strong. The passageway, along which Strong and many now dead ran to supposed safety, led toward the front of the theater, past the top entrance to the gallery. Strong had been unable to secure seats and was standing in the rear of the gallery with his mother, Mrs. B. K. Strong, his wife, and his niece, Vera, 16 years old, of Americus, Ga. When the fire started all ran toward the nearest exit. . "The exit was crowded," said Strong. "We ran on down a passage at the side of it, followed by many others. At the end, down a short flight of steps, was a door. It was locked. In desperation I threw myself against it. I couldn't budge it. Then, standing on the top step of the little stairway, I smashed the glass above with my fist and crawled through the transom. "When I fell on the outside I heard the screams on the oth- er side, and, scrambling to my feet, I tried again to open the door, but couldn't. The key was not there. I ran down a stairway to the floor below, where I found a carpenter. I asked him to give me something to break down the door, and he got me a short board. I ran back with this and began pounding, but the door was too heavy to be broken. "I scarcely know what happened afterward. Smoke was pouring over the transom and I felt myself suffocating. Alone, or with the assistance of the carpenter, I at last found myself at the bottom of the stairway opening into the lobby of the theater. From there I pushed my way to the street. Until then I didn't know I was burned." GIRL'S MIRACULOUS ESCAPE. The most miraculous escape was that of Winnie Gallagher, an 1 1 -year-old girl, who occupied a seat with her aunt al- IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. . 129 \ most' directly under the stage. When the panic was started she jumped to her feet and after being thrown about and trampled upon and having her clothing torn from her she man- aged to climb over the seats and reach the street in safety. What few pieces of wearing apparel she had on at the time were in ribbons and a messenger boy, seeing her predicament, pulled off his overcoat and wrapped it around her. She went . to the Central station, where she gave the police her name and asked that v someone take her to her home, 4925 Michigan avenue. AN ACCOUNT FROM THE BOXES. The first two lower boxes on the left of the stage were oc- cupied by a party of young women who were being entertained by Mrs. Rollin A. Keyes of Evanston, in honor of her young daughter, Miss Catherine Keyes, who was home from school in Washington for the holidays. "We arrived at the theater shortly after the first act," said Miss Emily Plamondon of Astoria, Ore., a member of the party, in describing the fire. "As far as I could see the house was filled with women and children, who occupied seats on the first floor and in the galleries. It was about a quarter to 3 when one of the young women in the party asked Mrs. Keyes if she did not smell something burning and an instant afterward a great cloud of smoke spread across the stage and into the body of the house. Immediately we realized the danger we were in, as did all around us. Instead of a rush to the doors, the audience gazed for a moment at the stage, and as a whole the people appeared very calm, under the cir- cumstances, and as if contemplating how they would escape. "Again another cloud of smoke issued from the stage and several stage hands appeared, shouting at the top of their 130 IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. voices for the people to sit down. But it was only for an instant that they obeyed, for by that time the smoke had spread through the theater and men, women and children were gasp- ing for breath. Then a mad rush was made for the doors and for the supposed exits, but in vain. Mrs. Pearson and Mrs. Keyes commanded us to keep together by all means and just as we were leaving the boxes the theater became darkened, which, I suppose, was caused by the burning out of the elec- tric light, and thus made our escape the harder. We plodded through the aisles until we came within about ten feet of the main entrance without encountering any violence from the panic-stricken women and children who were fighting for their lives. Then the crush became terrible and the members of our party, Mrs. Rollin A. Keyes, Mrs. Pearson, Misses Charlotte Plamondon, Catherine Keyes, Elmore of Oregon, Amelia Ormsby, Grace Hills, Josephine Eddy and Miss Eliza- beth Eddy realized that it would be impossible to get to the street through that door. "It was only a short time, however, when somebody knocked down two doors, which had been locked, and the majority of the people on the first floor escaped through them without serious injury. Miss Charlotte Plamondon, who was bruised about the face and hands, and I were the only ones in the party who escaped with our wraps. The others had their clothes torn almost from them, as they were hurrying from the burning theater. "Before we had left the boxes the fire had spread to the first row of seats and the stage hands were endeavoring tc lower the asbestos curtain. When it was about half down it became caught and the attempt to drop it was abandoned. A great gush of fire then spread to the draperies over the boxes. The people were wonderfully calm, it seemed to me, for so IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. 131 crucial a moment and it was not until the smoke filled the house that they became frantic and screamed for help. We could hardly breathe and I believe had we been in the theater a few minutes longer we, too, would have been suffocated, as the heat and smoke were becoming unendurable. Had the exits been open and unlocked the loss of life would not have been nearly so great." "We were seated for half an hour before the fire broke out. Our attention was first attracted by a wreath of flame, which crept slowly along the red velvet curtain. We all noticed it. So did the audience and I could see little girls and boys in the orchestra chairs point upward at the slowly moving line of flame. As the fire spread the people in the balcony and on the first floor arose to their feet as if to rush out of the place. Then Eddie Foy hurried to the front of the stage and com- manded the people to be quiet, saying that if they would re- main seated the danger would be averted. All the people who were then on the stage maintained remarkable presence of mind and the chorus girls endeavored to divert the attention of their auditors off the fire by going on with their parts. "I looked over the faces of the audience and remarked how many children were present. I could see their faces filled with interest and their eyes wide open as they watched the burning curtain. "Then I looked behind me and realized the awful conse- quence should the people become alarmed. The doors, ex- cept for the one through which we entered the theater, were closed and apparently fastened. Up in the balcony I could see people crowding forward in order to obtain a better view. Again the audience arose as if to flee. "Eddie Foy again rushed on the stage and waved his arms in a gesture for the people to be seated. But just then the 132 1ROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. shrill cry of a woman caused the women and children to rise to their feet, filled with a sudden and uncontrollable terror. " 'Fire !' I heard her exclaim, and in another instant the eyes of the audience were turned to the exits in the rear. The flames lighted up the stage as the light tinsel stuffs blazed up, and the scene changed from mimicry to tragedy. A confused, rumbling noise filled the theater from the pit to the dome. I knew it was the sound of a thousand people preparing to leave their seats and rush madly from the impending danger. The noise of their footsteps in the balcony was soon deadened by the cries for aid from those who were hemmed in by the strug- gling mass. "On the stage the chorus girls, who had exhibited rare presence of mind, turned to flee. Many were overcome before they could stir a step. They fell to the floor and I saw the men in the cast and the stage hands lift them to their feet and carry them to the rear of the stage. By this time the scenery was a mass of flames." INSPECTION AFTER THE FIRE. Deputy Building Commissioner Stanhope with three in- spectors made a thorough examination of the theater build- ing yesterday. "I first examined the building with respect to the safety of its walls and found them in perfect condition," said Mr. Stan- hope. "They are not out of plumb an inch and are as good as they ever were. The steel structure is not injured except that portion which supported the stage. The heat has twisted some of the supports but they can be replaced at little cost. Except the backs of the seats and the floor of the stage the interior of the auditorium was not injured by the fire. The IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. 133 carpets in the gallery, where most of the people were killed, were not even scorched." A YOUNG HEROINE. Verma Goss is one of the young heroines of the fire. She attended the theater in a party composed of her mother, Mrs. Joseph Goss; her 5-year-old sister, Helen; Mrs. Greenwald of 536 Byron street and her young son Leroy. In the rush for the door Miss Verma caught her young sister's hand and pulled her out of the crowd and carried the child to safety. She thought her mother was following, but she and her sis- ter were the only ones of the party who escaped. A NARROW ESCAPE. Mrs. William Mueller, with her two children, Florence Marie, 5 years of age, and Barbara Belle, 7, occupied a seat in the parquet. "I was not in the theater auditorium," said Mrs. Mueller. "I was in one of the waiting rooms, but was on my way to our seats. As I entered the doors somebody yelled fire. I looked up and saw the curtain ablaze. Then came the stam- pede. I picked up my children and ran toward the door. I was caught in the jam and it seemed that I would fail to reach it. Some man saw my plight and jumped to my assistance. He picked up Florence and threw her over the heads of the rushing people. She fell upon the pavement, but was not badly injured." FINDS WIFE IN HOSPITAL. The first woman to be rescued over the temporary bridge between the theater and the Northwestern university build- ing was Mrs. Mary Marzein of Elgin, 111. She was severely 134 TROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. burned and lost consciousness after her rescue. A score or more suffered death on every side as she crept over the lad- der. They were thrown aside and knocked down, but she clung to the ladder and escaped. She was taken to the Michael Reese hospital and did not regain consciousness until the fol- lowing day. Her husband, who is an employe of the Elgin \Vatch Company, searched all the morgues and was making a tour of the hospitals when he found his wife. When Mrs. Marzein recovered in the afternoon the first person she inquired for was her husband, who at that moment was being ushered into the room. Their eyes met as she wa whispering his name to the nurse, and an affecting scene fol- lowed. A MIRACULOUS AND UNCONSCIOUS ESCAPE. One of the most miraculous escapes from the fire was that of Miss Winifred Cardona. She was one of a party of four and with her friends occupied seats in the seventh row of the parquet. "The first intimation I had of the danger was when I saw one of the chorus girls look upward and turn pale. My eyes immediately followed her glance and I saw the telltale sparks shooting about through the flies. The singing continued un- til the blaze broke out. Then Mr. Foy appeared and asked the audience to keep their seats, assuring them that the theater was thoroughly fireproof. We obeyed, but when we saw the seething mass behind struggling for the door we rushed from our seats. I became separated from the other girls and had not gone far before I stumbled over the prostrate body of a woman who was trampled almost beyond recognition. For an instant I thought it was all over. Then I felt someone lift me and I knew no more until I revived in the street. It wa? \ 1ROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. 135 the most awful experience I have ever had and I consider my escape nothing short of miraculous." LITTLE GIRL'S MARVELOUS ESCAPE. "I'm the most grateful man in all Chicago," said J. R. Thompson, who owns the restaurant. "My sister was in the theater with my two children John, aged 9, and Ruth, aged 7. Sister got almost to the door with both of them. Then Ruthie disappeared. She told me she knew the child must be safe, but I was like a maniac. It was an hour before we found her. How it happened I didn't know, but she ran back into the theater and out under the stage, out through the stage entrance." "Where is the little girl now?" I asked him. "I sent her home to her mother," he said. Only ten feet away lay the chestnut-haired girl who "was .\ great one to scamper." FOUR GENERATIONS REPRESENTED. Members of four generations of a family were turned into mourners, only one member remaining from a party of nine made up of Benjamin Moore and eight of his relatives, of whom only one, Mrs. W. S. Hanson, Hart, Mich., escaped. Following are the names of the eight victims: Mrs. Joseph Bezenek, 41 years old, West Superior, Wis., daughter of Ben- jamin Moore; Benjamin Moore, 72 years old, Chicago; Ro- land Mackay, 6 years old, Chicago, grandson of Mrs. Joseph Bezenek and great grandson of Benjamin Moore; Mrs. Benjamin Moore, 47 years old, wife of Benjamin Moore; Jo- seph Bezenek, 38 years old, West Superior, Wis., husband of Mrs. Bezenek and son-in-law of Benjamin Moore; Mrs. Per- 136 IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. ry Moore, 33 years old, Hart, Mich., daughter-in-law of Ben- jamin Moore; Miss Sibyl Moore, Hart, Mich., 13 years old, daughter of Mrs. Perry Moore and granddaughter of Benja- min Moore; Miss Lucile Bond, 10 years old, daughter of George H. Bond and granddaughter of Benjamin Moore, Chicago. DAUGHTERS AND GRANDCHILDREN GONE. Three daughters and two grandchildren, constituting the entire family of Mr. and Mrs. Morris Eger, Chicago, per- ished in the fire. The daughters were Miss S. Eger, who was a teacher in the Mosely school ; Mrs. Marion Rice, wife of A. Rice, and Mrs. Rose Bloom, wife of Max Bloom, and the, children were: Erna, the lo-year-old daughter of Mrs. Rice, and her n -year-old brother, Ernest. After a long search among the many morgues of the city the bodies were all identified, two of them being found there. CHAPTER X. HOW THE NEW YEAR WAS USHERED IN. The New Year came to Chicago with muffled drums, two days after the calamity that threw the great metropolis into mourning. Scarcely a sound was heard as 1904 entered. Jan. i day of funerals was received in silence. Streets were almost deserted, even downtown. Men hurried silently along the sidewalks. There were not half a dozen tin horns in the downtown district where ordinarily the blare of trumpets, screech of steam whistles, volleys of shots and the merriment of late wayfarers make the entrance of a new year a period of deafening pandemonium. Merrymakers were quiet when in the streets and subdued even in the restaurants. Noise, except in a few scattered dis- tricts, was unknown. It was a remarkable, spontaneous testimony to the prevalent spirit throughout the city. Mayor Harrison had asked, in an official proclamation, that there be no noise, but few of those who desisted from the usual practices of greeting the New Year knew that they had been requested to be silent. MOURNING IN EVERY STREET. There were mourning families in every neighborhood ; crepe in every street; grief stricken relatives throughout the city; unidentified dead in the morgues, and sufferers in the hospital. The citizens did not need to be requested to be quiet. 1ST 138 IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. Jan. I, 1904, meant the beginning of funerals and the burial of dead who were to have lived to take part in merrymaking. A year before in downtown Chicago the din was an ear- splitting racket of horns, whistles, yells, songs, and exploding cannon. A year before the downtown streets were filled with hun- dreds of laughing men and women, roystering parties filling the air with the uproar of tin horns and revolvers. NOISE SEEMS A SACRILEGE. That night there were a messenger boy in La Salle street blowing a tin horn and a man at Wabash avenue and Harri- son street. The other pedestrians looked at them as if they considered the noise a sacrilege. It was with the same feeling that they heard the blowing of the factory whistles in the few cases where the engineers forgot. A year before the outlying districts were awakened by the firing of cannon and the shouts of people in noisy celebrations. That dread night there was nothing to keep residents awake except grief. MAYOR ASKS FOR SILENCE. To insure this condition, as the only fitting one, Mayor Har- rison had issued a proclamation in which he said : "On each recurring New Year's eve annoyance has been caused the sick and infirm by the indulgence of thoughtless per- sons in noisy celebrations of the passage of the old year. The city authorities have at all times discouraged this practice, but now, when Chicago lies in the shadow of the greatest disaster in her history for a generation, noisemaking, whether by bells, whistles, cannon, horns or any other means, is particularly ob- icctionable. IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. 139 "As mayor of Chicago I would, therefore, request all per- sons to refrain from this indulgence, and I would particularly ask all railway officials and all persons in control of factories, boats, and mills to direct their employes not to blow whistles between the hours of 12 and I o'clock tonight." Persons not reached by this proclamation had seen the lines waiting entrance at the morgues. The few peddlers who had tin horns for sale found no buyers. This market, which in other years has been a profitable one, on Dec. 31, 1903, was dead. The venders slunk up to the building walls and, even in trying to sell, made little noise with their wares. MERRIMENT IS SUBDUED. In such restaurants as the Auditorium Annex, the Welljng- ton, and Rector's there were gay crowds, but the merriment was subdued. "No music" was the general rule throughout the city. At Rector's the management took down flowers which were to have decorated the restaurant and sent them to the hospitals where the injured theater victims were. At the Annex and the Wellington the lobbies had been filled with gayly decorated tables, and this space as well as the cafes was entirely occupied. Congress street was filled with car- riages and cabs for the guests at the Annex. CITY OF MOURNING. Even these gatherings, which were the least affected by the gloom over the city, were ghastly as compared with those of former years. There were exceptions to the general rule, but even in the places which felt the effect the least there was abundant testimony to the fact that Chicago was a city of woe. The aspect of the downtown district was evidence that there 140 IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. was scarcely a neighborhood in the city which had not at least one sorrowing family. Not only was this indicated by the lack of noise on the noisiest night of the year but by the absence of lights. Many electric signs and illuminations which usually lighted up the streets had been closed, and gay, wicked, noisy Chicago was clothed with gloom such as it had never before known. Dark and solemn as was the opening day of the new year it was no circumstance compared with the day that followed. At the suggestion of the mayor Saturday, Jan. 2, was set apart to bury the dead. The proclamation issued in that connection follows : "Chicago, Dec. 31. To the citizens of Chicago: Announce- ment is hereby made that the city hall will be closed on Satur- day, Jan. 2, 1904, on account of the calamity occurring at the Iroquois theater. All business houses throughout the city are respectfully requested to shut down on that day. Respectfully, "CARTER H. HARRISON, Mayor." The request was generally followed, and on that mournful day the irferment of the victims of the holocaust began, filling the streets with processions moving to the grave. From day- break until evening funeral corteges moved through the streets. Church bells at noon tolled a requiem. The machinery of bus- iness was hushed in the downtown district, and long lines of carriages, preceded by hearses or plain black wagons, followed the theater victims to the grave. In no public place, in no home was the grief of the bereft not felt. Many of the dead were taken directly from the un- dertaking rooms to the cemeteries and buried with simple cere- mony. Before dark nearly 200 victims were borne to the IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. 141 grave. A score were taken to railroad stations, to be followed by the mourning back to their homes. BUSINESS WORLD IN MOURNING, The board of trade closed at 1 1 o'clock. The doors of the stock exchange were not opened. Few of the downtown mer- cantile houses and few of the offices were open after noon. There was little business. It was a day of mourning, and the army of the sorrowful that for days had searched for its dead performed the last rites. At noon bells in all the church towers were rung to the rhythm of "The Dead March in Saul." Those who heard the solemn dirge stood still for the space of five minutes with bared heads. The proclamation of the mayor generally was ob- served. Everywhere there was gloom and no one could escape from the pall that enshrouded Chicago. The demand for hearses was so great that the undertakers were compelled to make up schedules in which the different hours of the day were allotted to the grief-stricken. Flags were at half-mast, while white hearses bearing the bodies of children and black hearses with the bodies of others took their way to the various churches. In some blocks three and four hearses were standing, and at the churches one cor- tege would wait until another moved away. The pall seemed to pervade the air itself. Pedestrians halt- ed on the sidewalk, and in the cold stood with bared heads while the funeral processions passed. Children saw their parents laid away; parents followed the coffins of their child. Students just reaching manhood or womanhood were laid at rest, while relatives and companions mourned. Kindly clergymen wept as they spoke words of 142 IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER, comfort to those bereft of father, motker, brother, sister, or even of all. Two double funerals passed through the downtown districts just as the department stores were dismissing their thousands of employes. Sisters were being taken to their last resting place, and this cortege was followed by two white hearses con- taining the bodies of another brother and sister. Both funeral processions went to the same depot, and all four victims were buried in the same cemetery. The numerous funeral trains which left Chicago contained in nearly every instance more than one coffin. Hearse after hearse and carriage after carriage arrived in the blinding snow and stopped at the depots, opening an epoch of funerals that continued daily until the last victim was laid to rest. Thus opened the year 1904 in Chicago, the stricken and desolate. CHAPTER XI. A SABBATH OF WOE. A majority of the victims of the fire were laid to rest, how- ever, during the Sabbath succeeding the awful calamity. The main thoroughfares of the benumbed city leading north and west toward the resting places of the dead were crowded with funeral processions, sometimes four and five hearses together showing as white as the snow on the ground, bearing as they did the bodies of children. As one funeral procession after another passed through the streets the numbers of the sorrowing at the cemeteries in- creased. A few hundred feet from one freshly made grave there was another and a short distance away still another that told the mourners at one funeral that others were bereaved. The work of burying the dead began early in the morning and lasted until late in the evening. Sometimes the homes of several of the dead were grouped in a few blocks and in one in- stance a glance down a single street would reveal the thickly crowded carriages for half a dozen funerals that had thrown an entire neighborhood into mourning. Where hearses could not be furnished they w T ere improvised from other kinds of vehicles and mourners who could not get cabs rode in carriages. As the night closed down on hundreds of mourning homes, in every cemetery in the city the speaking mounds of fresh earth told of the end of families broken and altogether de- stroyed. 143 144 IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. SEVEN TURNER VICTIMS. More than a thousand turners joined in the services for seven victims who were members of their societies. The Chicago Turnbezirk, the central body of the turners, had charge of the exercises. Representatives of the Aurora Turn- verein, Schweitzer Turnverein, Forward Turnverein, Social Turnverein, and other turner organizations joined in the ser- vices. The exercises were held at the Social Turner hall, Belmont avenue and Paulina street. The coffins of the victims were placed in front of the stage at the end of the hall. After the services the coffins were taken by uniformed turners through the hall to black wagons and the march to Graceland cemetery began. Three drum corps, with muffled drums, beat a funeral march. Women turners, in their gymnasium suits, escorted the bodies of the women victims, and uniformed turners watched the coffins of the men. Short services were held at the cemetery. SAD SCENES AT WOLFF HOME. At the residence of Ludwig Wolff, 1329 Washington boule- vard, the bodies of his daughter, Mrs. William M. Garn and her three children, Willie, n, John, 7, and Harriet, 10 years old, lay. All day long until the time for the funeral services a stream of sympathizing friends poured in. A crowd of more than a thousand surrounded the house and the policemen sta- tioned there were compelled to force a way for the caskets when they were borne to the hearses. The service was read by the Rev. William C. Dewitt of St. Andrew's church. Twelve boys acted as pallbearers for their former playfellows and followed the little white hearses to Graceland. The funeral was one of IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. 145 the largest ever seen on the west side of the city, more than one hundred carriages being in the funeral train. PATHETIC SCENE AT CHURCH. Far different in all except the grief was the funeral from the little frame church at Congress street and Forty-second avenue. Inside lay the bodies of Mrs. Mary W. Hoist and her three children, Allan, 13, Gertrude, 10, and Amy, 8 years. They were in the ill fated second balcony of the theater and met death trying to reach the fire escape. Of the family only the father and a 6 months old son survive. Mrs. Hoist was the sister of former Chief of Police Badenoch. Interment was at Forest Home. The building was still gay with its Christmas decorations and a large motto, "Peace on earth, good will to men," which the Hoist children had assisted in making. BURY CHILDREN AND GRANDCHILDREN. Another quadruple funeral was that of the daughters and the grandchildren of Jacob and Elizabeth Beder of 697 Ogden avenue. The two women, Mrs. Edyth Vallely, 835 Sawyer avenue, and Mrs. Amy Josephine McKenna of 758 South Ked- zie avenue, went to the theater accompanied by their two chil- dren, Bernice Vallely, aged n, and Bernard McKenna, aged 3. The bodies were found after the fire by the husbands of the dead women at the morgues. The services were in charge of Rev. D. F. Fox of the California Avenue Congregational church. Interment was at Forest Home. FIVE DEAD IN ONE HOUSE. Memorial services were held in the afternoon for Mrs. Eva Pond, wife of Fred S. Pond, their children, Raymond, 14, Helen, 7, and Miss Grace Tuttle, sister of Mrs. Pond, at the 146 IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. . family residence, 1272 Lyman avenue. The services were conducted by the Rev. Mr. Bowles of All Saints' Episcopal church. Miss Tuttle had been for eighteen years a teacher in the Chicago public schools. She attended the performance at the Iroquois with her sister and her sister's children, and none of them emerged alive. Mrs. Pond was the wife of Fred S. Pond, for thirty years cashier of the Deering Harvester Company, who is the only survivor of a once happy family circle. The four bodies were taken to Beloit, Wis., for burial. ENTIRE FAMILY IS BURIED. None but friends attended the Beyer funeral service during the afternoon at Sheldon's undertaking rooms, for the entire family, mother, father, and child, were numbered among the Iroquois dead. Otto H. Beyer, his wife Minnie, and their 4 year old daughter Grace, were the victims. The bodies were taken to Elkader, Iowa, for burial. This was perhaps the sad- dest of all the sad services conducted during the day, as no relatives were present to mourn the dead. 1 MRS. FOX AND THREE CHILDREN. Mrs. Emilie Hoyt Fox, daughter of William M. Hoyt, the wholesale grocer; George Sidney Fox, her 1 5-year-old son; Hoyt Fox, 14 years old, and Emilie Fox, 9 years old, were all buried side by side in Graceland cemetery. The funeral services were held in Graceland chapel and were conducted by Rev. Henry G. Moore of Christ Episcopal church, Winnetka. MRS. A. E. HULL AND CHILDREN. Simple and short were the funeral services at Boydston's chapel, Forty-second place and Cottage Grove avenue, over the remains of four members of the Hull family. Mrs. Hull, the IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. 147 mother, was the wife of Arthur E. Hull, 244 Oakwood boule- vard, and attended the theater with her little daughter, Helen, and two nephews, adopted sons, Donald and Dwight. The services were directed by Rev. J. H. McDonald of the Oakland Methodist Episcopal church and consisted simply of a prayer and the reading of a poem found in the desk of Mrs. Hull, and which had evidently been clipped from some newspaper. At the conclusion of the services the caskets were carried to the Thirty-ninth street station of the Michigan Central railroad, over which they were taken to Troy, N. Y., for burial. HERBERT AND AGNES LANGE. "We were four of the happiest mortals in all Chicago until that awful thing blasted our lives forever," sobbed Mrs. Louis Lange of 1632 Barry avenue at the close of the funeral of her only two children, Herbert Lange, 17 years old, and his sister Agnes, 14. The service was held at the Johannes Evangelical Lutheran church at Garfield avenue and Mohawk street. SWEETHEARTS BURIED AT THE SAME TIME, While the last rites were being held for Albert Alfson in Chicago, the body of his sweetheart, Miss Margaret Love, was being buried in the cemetery at Woodstock. Two hundred persons, 125 from Woodstock, attended Alf son's funeral at 24 Keith street. FIVE BURIED IN ONE GRAVE. The largest funeral at Oakwoods was that of Dr. M. B. Rimes, 6331 Wentworth avenue, his wife and three children, Lloyd, Martin, and Maurice. The five from one family were buried together in one large grave. 148 1ROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. BOYS AS PALLBEARERS. At the home of Ludwig Wolff, 1329 Washington boulevard the body of his daughter, Mrs. William M. Garn, and her three children, Willie, John and Harriet, lay. All day long until the time for the funeral services, a stream of sympathizing friends poured in, bearing many floral tributes to the dead. The impressive service of the Episcopal church was read by the Rev. William C. Dewitt of St. Andrew's church, of which Mrs. Garn was a member. Twelve boys acted as pallbearers to their late playfellows, and followed the little white hearses to Graceland cemetery. The funeral was one of the largest ever seen on the West Side, more than one hundred carriages being in the train. WINNETKA SADDENED. A funeral was held which saddened the hearts of all Win- netka. The little north shore suburb lost eight of its residents in the fire, and the funeral of four of the Fox family was held yesterday. The services were conducted by the Rev. Henry G. Moore of Christ Episcopal church, Winnetka. MOTHER AND DAUGHTERS BURIED TOGETHER. Three hearses carried away the bodies of Mrs. Louise Ruby and her daughters, Mrs. Ida Weimers and Mrs. Mary Feiser. The services were held at the late home of Mrs. Ruby, "838 Wilson avenue. Father F. N. Perry of the Church of Our Lady of Lourdes celebrated mass for the two daughters, who were members of his parish. The Rev. John G. Kircher of Bethlehem Evangelical church read the service for the mother. HOLD TRIPLE FUNERAL. Triple funeral services were held at the residence of Henry M. Shabad, 4041 Indiana avenue, for his two children. Myrtle, IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. 149 aged 14 years, and Theodore, aged 12 years, and little Rose Elkan, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. N. Elkan. The three chil- dren attended the matinee together and all were killed. Rabbi Jacobson of the Thirty-fifth street synagogue conducted the service and at the conclusion referred to the Iroquois fire as one of the "greatest calamities of the age." The interment took place at Waldheim. WOMEN FAINT IN CHURCH. Attended by many grief stricken schoolmates and friends, the funeral of Robert and Archie Hippach, sons of Louis A. and Ida S. Hippach, was held at the Church of the Atonement, Kenmore and Ardmore avenues. They lived at 2928 Ken- more avenue. At the church several women fainted and had to be taken from the church. LIFE-LONG FRIENDS MEET IN DEATH. Miss Viola Delee of 7822 Union avenue, and Miss Florence Corrigan of 218 Dearborn avenue, victims of the Iroquois theater fire, whose remains were buried, were life-long friends. They were schoolmates at St. Xavier's College, where both graduated two years ago. On the afternoon of the fire Miss Delee had arranged to meet her friend downtown and attend the matinee. It is thought they secured seats on the main floor about eight rows from the front. Their bodies were found lying some distance apart. The body of Miss Delee showed marks that must have caused her excruciating pain. Her face was badly burned and disfigured. Miss Corrigan was burned almost beyond recog- nition. She was not identified until after the identity of Viola's body had been established through a card which she carried in the pocket of her dress. 150 IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. The funerals of two friends who had perished together in the fire met in Forest Home cemetery when Mrs. Floy Irene Olson of 835 Walnut street and Bessie M. Stafford were buried in graves not thirty feet apart. The two women had been life- long friends and were co-workers in the Warren Avenue Con- gregational church. Rev. Frank G. Smith conducted the serv- ices over each of the bodies. EDWARD AND MARGARET DEE. Rev. Father Quinn of St. James' Roman Catholic church, conducted the obsequies for Edward Mansfield and Margaret Louise Dee, the children of William Dee, at the residence, 3133 Wabash avenue. The funeral procession was the largest ever seen on the south side for children, seventy-five carriages fol- lowing the white hearse that bore the two white caskets. MISS E. D. MANN AND NIECE. Miss Emma D. Mann, supervisor of music in the Chicago public schools, and her niece, Olive Squires, 14 years old, were buried at Rosehill after impressive ceremonies at the Centenary Methodist Episcopal church. Miss Mann had been connected with the schools of the city for many years. ELLA AND EDYTH FRECKLETON. The funeral services over the remains of Ella and Edyth Freckleton, daughters of William J. Freckleton, 5632 Peoria street, were conducted by Rev. R. Keene Ryan at Boulevard hall, Fifty-fifth and Halsted streets. More than 2,000 persons were in the hall and 500 others stood in the street for hours waiting for the funeral cortege to pass on its way to Oak- woods, where interment was made. MISS FRANCES LEHMAN. Hundreds of pupils of the Nash school, Forty-ninth avenue and Ohio street, members of the Ridgelaod fire department and IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. i$r a delegation of employes of the Cicero and Proviso Electric Street railway attended the funeral services over the remains of Miss Frances Lehman, at the residence of her parents, 525 North Austin avenue, in the morning. Rev. Clayton Youker, pastor of the Euclid Avenue Methodist Episcopal church, offi- ciating. Many beautiful floral tributes were sent by the teach- ers and the pupils of the Nash school. And so during this Sabbath of woe, tragedies of life and death such as these, but far too numerous to be all recorded, were being enacted in all parts of the stricken city. Although nature had bestowed upon the countless mourners a day bright and clear, their spirits were dark with sorrow and for years to come their memories will revert to that time as the saddest of their lives ; and those whose dear ones were not among the dead, if their natures were blessed with any sympathy what- ever, were oppressed, as never before, with the heavy burden which others must bear. CHAPTER XII. WHAT OF THE PLAYERS? Never before in the history of amusements has so excellent an opportunity been afforded to look behind the scenes of the mimic world and study the real life of the actor. To one and all, whether religionist unalterably opposed to the theater and all its ramifications, or the devotee finding life's chiefest pleas- ures contributed by musician and mummer, the stage looms up a mystic realm, affording more interest and comment than almost any other department of earthly effort. When Shakespeare wrote "See the players well bestowed" in his immortal masterpiece, "Hamlet," the term player meant something very different from what it does today. In this day and age it is not only the poetic, lofty-minded and learned tragedian who is rightfully accorded the title "actor/' but through time-honored custom and common usage the spe- cialty performer, slap-stick comedian and the interesting chorus girl are recognized as members of the "profession"; and be it noted, although a sad commentary on the stage, they far outnumber those of the old, legitimate school. So it is that in dealing with the player folk, to whom the terrifying Iroquois experience was but an incident in a long career of vicissitudes unknown to those who make up the great commercial, industrial and agricultural world, it is necessary to consider the sleek, well-groomed executive staff, the better- paid and more widely-known stellar lights of the "Mr. Blue- beard" company, the less distinguished principals, both men 152 IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. 153 and women, the struggling chorus boy, the saucy, piquant and greatly envied chorus girl and a small army of unheard-of yet equally important stage mechanics. Upwards of 150 persons a little world of their own made up the company that found its merry-making tour brought to a sudden termination by a blast that came upon them like a visitation from the bottomless pit. What they en- dured, what conditions the fatal fire imposed upon them, will never be fully known or appreciated. Merry minstrels in name, but homeless, purposeless wanderers in fact, the dead sweep of the elements tore asunder their little universe and left them stranded and more purposeless still, practically penni- less and among strangers, overburdened with their own woes. With such an organization as "Mr. Bluebeard" there are to be found two or three fortunate mortals, whose powers to amuse and whose popularity with the amusement-loving public place their salaries at a figure anywhere between $150 and $300 a week. In this particular company "Eddie Foy," in private life Edward Fitzgerald, stood out preeminently as such a player. Then came more than a score of principals whose salaries will range from $60 to $150 a week, depending entirely upon ability and the extent to which fortune has favored them in casting the various parts, as the characters are known. Next in order are the less important people, who play "bits" (very unimportant parts), and who act as under- studies for the principals, ready to replace them in an emer- gency. They are largely graduates from the chorus or com- parative novices in the profession. Their compensation may be from $30 to $50 a week, according to beauty, grace and general usefulness. All have their railroad fares paid and their baggage trans- 154 IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. ported at the expense of the management. They are required to furnish their own wardrobe, however, in many instances an item of no small expense. THE CHORUS GIRL, And then the chorus girl ! No living creature excites such general curiosity, interest, and perhaps admiration and envy, as this footlight queen. She is popularly supposed to devote her time exclusively to delightful promenades with susceptible "Johnnies" in the millionaire class, automobile rides, after- the-show wine suppers and all manner and form of unconven- tional and soul-stirring diversions that for her more sedate and useful sister, the ordinary American girl, would mean to be ostracized socially. Hers is generally regarded as a voluptuous life of music, mirth and color, an endless, extrava- gant pursuit of pleasure. To the wide, wide world her triumphs and escapades are heralded by newspaper, press agent, and the callow youth of the land, who regard themselves as "real sports" and clamor for an opportunity to provide a supper for one of the chorus at the expense of going without cigarettes for the rest of the month. Whoever hears of the little, disorderly bunk of a room the chorus girl's salary provides her with at some cheap hotel; of her struggles for existence during the months she is out of employment almost every season; of the glass of beer and nibble of free lunch that is often her only meal during the long weeks of endless rehearsal that precede the opening of the show, when absolutely without income she lives on her scant savings, what she can borrow, and hope and anticipation of what is in store when the tour begins! For three or four weeks she rehearses morning and afternoon while the produc- IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. 155 tion is being put in shape. No salaries are paid during that period, and it is a particularly soft-hearted manager who allows the girl carfare. Most of the day there are marches, dances and evolutions to be gone through with maddening monotony. She must remain on her feet, for chairs are few about stages, and courtesy scant so far as chorus people are concerned. And at night, when she goes home worn with effort, there are songs to be learned, and then to be repeated over and over again in chorus the next day, to the accompaniment of a bat- tered and expressionless piano shoved into the brightest spot on the gloomy half-dark stage, or, if there be no such thing, placed in the orchestra pit, where the musical director can enjoy the advantage of an electric light. i THE MUSICAL DIRECTOR. The musical director! What an autocrat he is! His rules are arbitrary and irrevocable. His criticism stings and burns. He is tired, overworked and under the strain of responsibility for the successful development of the aggregation of young men and women who confront him, and who appear to him weighted down with all the stupidity naturally intended for distribution among a vastly larger number of individuals. He swears, raves, coaxes as his moods change. He weeds out one here and engages a new member there. And with every change the difficulties increase. The tunes that seem so inspir- ing when heard from the comfort of a parquet seat grow dreary to those who are living with them hourly during this period. The "catchy" songs become so much hateful drivel and maddening nonsense, when done over and over again to the inspiring declaration of the half-crazed director that "the 156 IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. whole bunch ought to go back to the farm, back to the dish- pan." It is a tired, world-worn, weary creature that creeps away after such a rehearsal a woman who would be hard to recog- nize as the sprightly, dashing blonde in blue tights, who tosses her head saucily in the third act and sets the hearts of the youth of the one-night-stands aflame a few weeks later. THE JOY OF THE OPENING. At last the chaos and confusion end, the great mass of de- tail is blended into a production and the stage manager begins his term of storming and fussing. The dress rehearsal is called, the shimmering silken costumes are donned and all hands are agreeably surprised to find that there really is a plot to the piece and some rhyme and reason behind the efforts of the few preceding weeks' labor. The opening is at hand. What joy it brings to all, both those of high and low de- gree. Brave costumes, light, color and a mellow orchestra, in place of the old tin-pan of a piano, work great changes in their spirits. And best of all salaries begin. To the chorus girl it means from $18 to $25 a week, and if she be particu- larly clever perhaps a little more. That is hers, free from all charges for transportation, baggage delivery or the fur- nishing or maintenance of wardrobe. She must furnish her own "make-up" of paints, powder and cosmetics, to be sure, and of this she uses no small amount; but that is a minor ex- pense. The opening over, the critics of the press either praise or flay the production something that means much in determin- ing what its future will be. For a few weeks, possibly a month or two, it remains the attraction at the theater where it had its birth. Conditions become pleasanter, yet a vast IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. 157 amount of rehearsing continues in order to bring about im- provement or make changes in the personnel of the company. Every time a girl drops out, voluntarily or otherwise, her suc- cessor must be put through the ropes in order to be able to replace her. That means all those in the same scenes must go through the dreary details again. In fact, from the time such a show opens until it closes rehearsals never really cease, the causes necessitating them being almost without number. SPENDTHRIFT HABITS. During the "run" in the opening house the chorus girl has a chance to live at comparatively small expense. She may pay off her small debts, if she is troubled with a conscience. What is far more important, she can replenish her threadbare street wardrobe, for it is an unwritten managerial law that all stage people must dress well both on and off the stage. So when the "run" terminates and the road tour begins, nearly all the company are pretty short financially, although they may be even with the world if they are particularly fortunate. All actors are naturally "spenders." Their mode of life com- pels it. With few family ties, the majority without a home, their every expense is double that of the every-day sort of a man. Their meeting place and their lounging place, whether it be for business or social reasons, is necessarily the hotel or the bar. Under those conditions it would be difficult for the most conservative to cultivate frugality or economy. And actors have never been known to injure themselves in an effort to attain either unless under stress of temporary compulsion. GAMBLING, PURE AND SIMPLE. Perhaps the show has made a "hit." Perhaps not. One can never tell in advance, for it is gambling, pure and simple, so 158 IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. the oldest managers openly assert. If it proves a failure all the capital, labor and trouble has been thrown away like a flash in the pan. The actors arrive some night to find the house dark, the box-office receipts, scenery and properties seized on an attachment, and their salaries and prospects gone What happens then with weeks, possibly months, of idleness ahead of them, can be better imagined than described. Some- how, the people struggle through and survive and bob up to face the same experience again. It is hard enfeugh on the ^* principals with good salaries and friends purchased through profligate expenditure of their money when all was sunshine and prosperity, but it is a worse blow to the chorus. Yet they pass through seemingly unscathed. They are used to it and know how. But this is a dreary side of the picture, and all productions are by no means doomed to flunk; those that do not go forth upon the road with a flourish of trumpets, the glitter and glamor of carloads of courts and palaces of canvas, tinsel and papier-mache and with everyone looking forward to the rapid acquirement of a fortune. Verily, your actor is a born optimist. Were it not for ambition, hope, egotism and in- herent love of publicity, notoriety and admiration, where would the stage get its recruits ? THE SHOW ON THE ROAD. After the production has taken to the road it may still prove a "frost" the theatrical term for failure. Then it is the same grim story, with additional discouragements. There are cold, clammy hotelkeepers whose one anxiety is to see their bills paid, and commercially inclined railroads who will trans- port none, not even actors, without payment in something more tangible than promises. Then comes the benefit perform- IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. 159 ance, the appeal to local lodges of orders the actors may be identified with and the mad scramble to induce the railroad to carry the people home "on their trunks." If they can get their baggage out of the hotels the per- formers usually find it possible to secure transporta- tion by leaving their trunks with the railroads as a pawn to be released when they raise money enough to settle the bill. Surely a pleasant prospect to go "home" penniless and without personal effects, clothing or even prospects. And all this time where is the manager? He may have fled in desperation with the few dollars that came into his hands the preceding night, or he may be shut up in his room worse off than his employes. It all depends upon circumstances. All shows do not meet disaster on the road, however. Yet there is always the distressing possibility to confront the actor. Many go on their glad, successful way, for a time, like "Mr. Bluebeard," piling up profits and bringing joy to the hearts of managers and owners and continued employment to the players. Yet even then all is not as roseate as might be thought from a casual glance taken from the front. There are epidemics, railroad accidents, hotel fires and all manner of emergencies to be considered, not to speak of the one-night stand. THE ONE-NIGHT STAND. Of all the terrors the actor faces the one-night stand is the worst. That is the technical name applied to the city or town where the company lights for a single performance as it flits across the continent. It is almost impossible to so route an attraction that its time will be placed exclusively in large cities, so they fall back on the one-night stand. Imagine the joy of leaving Chicago Sunday morning, playing at South 160 IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. Chicago Sunday afternoon and evening 1 , taking a train after the performance and jogging into Michigan City, Ind., with the early dawn, catching a bit of sleep during the day, playing at night and skipping out for Logansport. With the same programme at Logansport, Fort Wayne, Richmond, and Lima, Mansfield or Dayton, Ohio, the company is within striking- distance of Cleveland, Cincinnati, Louisville or Indianapolis, as its bookings may elect. And that is precisely what they all do. This is a sample week. It is not an uncommon thing for a big attraction to cover two or three weeks of unbroken one-night stands, and those going to and from the Pacific coast are often compelled to play four and five, without the friendly relief of an engagement covering a week. Truly life under these circumstances is a horror. Train- worn, broken in rest, with scarcely opportunity to unpack to change their linen, such weeks mean to the performer an ex- istence not calculated to tempt recruits to the profession. To the principal, stopping at the best hotels and making use of sleeping cars whenever possible, it is wearing enough and a burden. To the chorus girl, it is a hideous nightmare. Out of her meager salary she must pay during such weeks from $1.25 to $1.75 a day for hotel accommodations that are far from tempting. She is driven to resort to sleepers through self-preservation at an average of $2 a night for long night trips, and her laundry and other incidental expenses mount up into startling figures. Her clothing is ruined by almost ceaseless crushing aboard trains, and unless she be thoroughly broken to such a life she is wrecked physically. When she reaches a big city again she can once more creep to bed after her work at midnight and find in unbroken hours of sleep balm for all she has passed through. She may secure a decent room at a second or third class European hotel AMBULANCE LOADED WITH FIRE VICTIMS. AT?OH AT TOI* OF STAIRWAY 1'ACKKP WITH DEAD. CARRYING OUT SOME DEAD, SOME STILL LIVING. FIUKMKN CARRYING OUT THE DEAD CHILDREN. HEROIC RESCUE OF THE LIVING BY CHICAGO b'IREMEN. SCENE IN DEATH ALLEY REAR OF TIIK THEATER. CARRYING DEAD BODIES FROM SECOND BALCONY. MISS NELLIE REED, Leader of the Flying Ballet, killed by the tire. FIREMEN HELPING THE CHORUS GIRLS OUT OF THE THEATER. PHOTOGRAPH OF THE 8TAGE OF THE THEATER IN RUINS. c_ y. c r- X o c w tft t: C O W K t X o X o o -H O *_ E- <; 5 o oc IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. 177 for $6 a week and buy her meals where she chooses. If some callow youth buys them for her in consideration of the pleasure of basking in her smiles, she is that much ahead. She can live within her means in the city and save money if she wants to- But she seldom does, and no one can blame her, for she feels that nothing save the pleasures secured by extravagance can compensate her for what she has lost comfort, repose, dignity, social recognition, and, most of all, home. These same conditions are experienced to a varying degree by all players save those within the sacred circle drawn by the ringer of phenomenal success. That small handful with pri- vate cars, lackies and all the comforts of a portable home, is so insignificant in number that it requires no consideration here. THE "MR. BLUEBEARD" COMPANY. In the best and most prosperous organizations, such as "Mr. Bluebeard" was, life is not all sunshine and roses. To be true, its members escaped the manifold terrors of playing in the barns to be found in many large one-night stands and dressing in their stalls, dignified by the term dressing-rooms. The women were not compelled to dress and undress behind inclos- ures made of flimsy scenery with a sheet thrown over for addi- tional protection. Nor did they have to live in the barn-like hotels many such towns boast. But they had their own trou- bles, such as they were. The chorus girls did not escape hav- ing to be thrown into involuntary contact with all classes and conditions of mankind, nor did they avoid the sharp social dis- tinction drawn by the p/incipals in all organizations. Only a few weeks before the Iroquois horror they passed through a serious fire scare in the theater where they were playing in Cleveland, an experience that for the moment prom- ised to rival the one that finally overtook them. Flames in 178 IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. the scenery endangered their lives, but the fire was extin- guished. Therefore the incident "amounted to nothing" and little or nothing was heard about it. When the dread hour arrived at the Iroquois, the majority lost their all. It was not to be expected they would leave their jewelry and money about hotels of which they knew little. Quite naturally, they took both to their dressing-rooms. Many were on the stage when the cry of fire came, and were fortunate to escape with their lives, without thought of cloth- ing, money or jewelry, all of which were swept away. With employment, valuables, everything gone save their hotel bag- gage, they were in a sorry plight, indeed. But with the opti- mism that only the actor knows they rejoiced in their escape from the fate that overtook little Nellie Reed and from the terrible scars and burns suffered by many of their number. A score of their number were under arrest, held as wit- nesses, men and women alike. The management came to their relief to the extent of furnishing bonds that secured their temporary release. Klaw and Erlanger also furnished trans- portation back to New York for such as were at liberty to go. Then another obstacle arose. Few had the means to settle their hotel bills, and the proprietors of the places would not release their baggage. At this juncture relief came from out- side sources. Mrs. Ogden Armour provided for the chorus girls, contributing $500 to settle their bills. That night over a hundred of the players were headed back to the great metrop- olis they call home, to seek new engagements, and if unsuc- cessful, to do the best they could. And the majority started with certain failure staring them in the face. It was on Sunday, January 3, 1904, four days after the fire, that the members of the "Mr. Bluebeard" company turned their faces homeward, for to all players New York is "home." IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. 179 Just before the train started a plain white box was put on board the baggage car. It contained all that was mortal of Nellie Reed, the sprightly little girl who had delighted scores of thousands by her mid-air flights from the stage at each per- formance. It was her last railroad "jump." Poor little thing, still in her early teens, she closed her earthly career with the close of the show, and went back "home" with it ! If the future has for her any further flights they will be of celestial character, and not through the agency of an invisible wire such as guided her above the heads of Iroquois theater audiences and which was at first thought to have interfered with the fall of the curtain and to have been directly responsible for the appalling holo- caust. It was a sad departure. Nearly 150 persons comprised the "Mr. Bluebeard" party, and nearly as many more took the trip from "The Billionaire" company, also owned by the same management. Only a day or two before the fire that closed the "Bluebeard" show death had laid its hand heavily upon "The Billionaire," playing at the Illinois theater only a few blocks distant. "The Billionaire" himself died big, rollick- ing Jerome Sykes, who made famous the part "Foxy Quiller" and the opera of that name and who a few years ago made such a hit as the fat boy in "An American Beauty" that he outshone Lillian Russell, its star. Sykes contracted a cold at a Christ- mas celebration for the members of the two companies and when he died the production died with him. So with the Iroquois catastrophe there were two big, ob- viously successful, companies wiped out of the theatrical world at one blew and without notice. The members of each had half a week's salary due; that was their all. It was promptly paid and with that and their tickets all set forth in the happy i8o IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. possession of their baggage, many through the charity of Mrs. Armour. All not quite ! There were two members of "The Billion- aire" who did not make the last "jump," two who were in the audience at the Iroquois and perished in the maelstrom of flame and smoke. The curtain had been rung down for them forever. They, at least, would know no more of pitiful quests for engagements, of wearying rehearsal and momentary, superficial conquest. They had played their last stand. "This is the saddest day of my life," declared one of the chorus members in the presence of the writer. "Here I am, 1,000 miles from home, no prospects of another engagement this season, and only $5 in the world." "I have less than you," said a frail appearing girl, with tears in her eyes. "I lost my savings, $22, in the fire, and I have only $3 to go home with." "It it the life of the stage," said a matronly wardrobe woman. "The poor girls are penniless, and if the injured were left hind it would be as charity patients. The responsibility of the managers of the show ceases when the production is closed. I know many of these girls are without sufficient money to pay for a week's lodging, and it is a sad outlook for some of them this winter." And the wardrobe woman told the truth it was merely a striking example, a pitiful vicissitude of "the life of the stage." CHAPTER XIII. OTHER HOLOCAUSTS. Since the time that civilized man first met with fellow man to enjoy the work of the primitive playwright, humanity hag paid a toll of human life for its amusements. Oftener than history tells the tiny flicker of a tongue of flame has thrown a gay, laughing audience into a wild, struggling mob, and instead of the curtain which would have been rung down on the comedy on the stage, a pall of black smoke covered the struggles of the living and dying. Of all the theater disasters of history, none ever occurred in America equaling the loss of life in the Iroquois fire. Only two in the history of the civilized world surpass it. There have been fires accompanied by greater loss of life, but not among theater audiences. But the grand total of persons killed in theater holocausts is large and the saddest comment on this list is that most of the victims were from holiday audiences of women and chil- dren. Lehman's playhouse in St. Petersburg, Russia, was destroyed in Christmas week, 1836, and 70x5 persons lost their lives. The Ring theater, Vienna, Austria, was destroyed Dec. 8, 1 88 1, and 875 persons lost their lives. These are the only theater holocausts whose deadliness surpasses that of the Iro- quois. To all have been the same accompaniments of panic, futile smuggle and suffocation. In the last century with the intro- duction of the modern style of playhouse, these fatal fires have 181 182 IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. increased. The annals of the stage are replete with dark pages that cause the tragedy of the mimic drama depicted behind the footlights to pale and shrivel into comparative nothingness. Perhaps it is a fatal legacy from the time when civilized society gathered in its marble coliseums and amphitheaters to witness the mortal combats of human soldiers or the death struggles of Christians waging a vain battle against famished wild beasts. Whatever it may be, death has always stalked as the dread companion of the god of the muse and drama. An English statistician published six years ago a list of fires at places of public entertainment in all countries in the preced- ing century. He showed that there had been 1,100 conflagra- tion?, with 10,000 fatalities, and he apologized for the incom- pleteness of his figures. Another authority says that in the twelve years from 1876 to 1888 not less than 1,700 were killed in theater disasters in Brooklyn, Nice, Vienna, Paris, Exeter and Oporto, and that in every case nearly all the victims were dead within ten minutes from the time the smoke and flame from the stage reached the auditorium. As in the Iroquois fire, it was mainly in the balconies and galleries that death held its revels. Fire wrought havoc at Rome in the Amphitheater in the year 14 B. C., and the Circus Maximus was similarly destroyed three times in the first century of the Christian era. Three other theaters were razed by flames in the same period, and Porfipeii's was burned again almost two centuries later, but the exact loss of life is not recorded in either instance. The Greek playhouses, built of stone in open spaces, were never endan- gered by fire. No theaters were built on the modern plan until in the sixteenth century in France, and not until the seventeenth did any catastrophe worthy of record occur. When Shakespeare IROQUOIS THEATER DISASTER. 183 lived plays were generally produced in temporary structures, sometimes merely raised platforms in open squares, and it was after his time that scenic effects began to be amplified and the use of illuminants increased. Thus it was that dangers, both 2o players and auditors, were vastly increased. 'n the Teatro Atarazanas, in Seville, Spain, many people