History Daily - The Great Chicago Fire

Episode Date: October 8, 2026

October 8, 1871. A barn fire in Chicago, Illinois, sparks a conflagration that burns for more than a day and devastates the city. This episode originally aired in 2024. Support the show! Join Into History for ad-free listening and more. History Daily is a co-production of Airship and Noiser.Go to HistoryDaily.com for more history, daily.

It's 8.30 p.m. on October 8, 1871, on the outskirts of Chicago, Illinois. 44-year-old Catherine O'Leary puts away dishes, stifling a yawn as she sets a pile of plates in the cupboard. She's had a long day preparing food, milking the cow, and cleaning her home, and now she's ready for bed. But Catherine's hope for an early night are spoiled by an urgent knocking on the door. She opens it up to find a panicked neighbor on the doorstep, pointing down the alley toward Catherine's barn. There's an eerie orange glow coming from inside, and with a start, Catherine realizes the barn is on fire. Catherine rushes along the alley and opens the barn door. But she's forced back by a wave of heat. The straw and hay that her family stores in the barn is burning

ferociously. Flames are licking the wooden walls and roof, and with one glance, Catherine realizes she has no hope of putting out the fire. But she does have time to rescue her animals. Braving the heat, Catherine rushes in to untie her cow. It's her most valuable possession, and she can't afford to lose it. She leads the terrified animal out of the barn to safety, but before she can return to collect the shrieking pigs and squawking chickens, the neighbor who raised the alarm grabs Catherine's arm, stopping her from going back into the barn. She points up that the barn's rafters, just as they fall in, showering the two with burning embers. The collapsing barn also spews burning straw and hay high into the air. And with horror, Catherine watches the smoldering debris fall on the wooden roofs of

surrounding houses. The fire is spreading, and Catherine can't do anything to stop it. By the time the flames are extinguished a day later, more than 17,000 buildings in Chicago will have burned down. 100,000 people will be left homeless, and around 300 will have lost their lives. But even before the ashes are cold, the city of Chicago would begin a cleanup effort. It will take years and cost millions of dollars to rebuild the city, a steep price to pay for a fire that began in a humble barn on the night of October 8, 1871. Hello, History Daily listeners. The live show I've been telling you about for a few weeks has a new date, October 23rd

at the Plaza Theater in Garland, Texas. This is my Days That Made America Tour, a thrilling evening of history, storytelling, and music with me and a band live on stage. So if you're in the North Texas area or anywhere close, be sure to come out and see me live. More shows will be announced soon, too. So for information on tickets and upcoming dates, go to historydailylive.com. That's historydaily live.com. Come see my Days at Made America Tour live on stage.

Go to historydailylive.com. From Noisor and Airship, I'm Lindsay Graham. And this is History Daily. History is made every day. On this podcast every day, we tell the true stories of the people and events that shaped our world. Today is October 8, 1871, the Great Chicago Fire. It's the evening of October 8, 1871 in Chicago, a few minutes after Catherine O'Leary's barn caught fire. At the city courthouse, a watchman at the beginning of his shift, warily climbs a spiral staircase.

For around 10 years, Chicago's fire department has used this building's dome tower as an overnight observation post. The tower offers a spectacular view across the city. It's the perfect vantage point for spotting any fires that break out. In the middle of the 19th century, American cities like Chicago experienced a population explosion. But such rapid growth came with risks. The more people crammed into a city, the greater the danger of fire. Faulty gaslights and unwatched candles were often to blame, but even a single spark could cause disaster, and accidental blazes spread quickly. through the closely packed wooden buildings typical of the era. In response, city authorities set up centrally controlled and paid fire departments.

Chicago's was created 13 years ago, and it now employs dozens of watchmen to man-observation posts in tall buildings like the courthouse. Typically, a watchman's shift is a tedious affair, but not tonight. As soon as the watchman arrives at his lookout point, he spots a distinctive orange glow on the dark horizon. He knows right away it's a fire. So the watchman rushes back down the spiral staircase and reports the blaze to the courthouse telegraph operator who dashes off a message to the firehouse.

Then the watchman climbs back up the stairs as quickly as he can. But when he gets there, the watchman realizes he's made a terrible mistake. He got his bearings wrong. The fire is raging in the southwest of Chicago, but he reported that it's on the other side of the city. The fire crew will be sent in the wrong direction. So he returns to the telegraph operator and asks him, to send another message correcting his error. But there's no answer from the firehouse.

The fire crew is already on their way, and it's too late to call them back. Thanks to this error, the firefighters are delayed in reaching Catherine O'Leary's barnfire. When they do finally get there, it's too late to save the barn. So instead, the firefighters try to tackle the blazes

that have broken out in the surrounding buildings, but there are too many. The inferno is growing out of control, and all the firemen can do is redacted. treat, dowsing the edges of the fire in a vain attempt to slow its progress. At the courthouse tower, the watchman remains at his observation post, looking on in horror as the blaze spreads further and further. And at midnight, more than three hours after he first spotted the fire, the courthouse shudders as the city's gasworks explode, consumed by the

growing fire. The streetlights go out, leaving only the spreading flames to light up the night's sky and flickering, spitting orange and gold. And then, as the fire creeps toward the courthouse, the watchman abandons his post. He descends the spiral staircase as quickly as he can and orders the people who've sought shelter there to move on before this building too is engulfed by flames. The watchman tries to lead these frightened citizens to safety, but embers float on the wind, landing on the roofs of surrounding buildings

and sparking still more fires. Even the river doesn't hold back the flames. On the south side of Chicago, the city's water-watering, works catches fire. And when it collapses in on itself, the roof destroys the pumps beneath and the city's water pipes begin to run dry. There's now no way to douse the flames. So as the fire continues to burn, the watchman urges Chicagoans to head for the only nearby place that won't burn Lake Michigan. But it's a tough journey to get to the shores of the lake. The streets are clogged with horse-drawn carts and several routes are blocked by collapsed or burning buildings. When the

watchman finally reaches the edge of the lake. It's already packed with people, livestock, and wagons piled high with personal belongings. For hours, they wait and watch the city burn. But then, finally, the people huddled at the shore feel the welcome drops of rain on their faces. More than 24 hours after the blaze began, the fire begins to recede. With smoke still rising above the city, the watchman decides to return to what remains of Chicago. Seventy-three miles of streets and more than 17,000 buildings have been destroyed by the fire. Chard bodies lie in the street, and still red-hot telegraph wires spark overhead, threatening to restart the inferno. It's clear to the watchman that Chicago has faced a catastrophe.

But thankfully, he'll soon discover that a Civil War hero is on the scene and ready to take charge of the efforts to resurrect the city out of the ashes. It's October 11, 1871 in Chicago, one day after the Great Fire was finally extinguished. 40-year-old General Philip Sheridan kicks up dust and ash as he walks through the city's downtown. Smoke still hangs in the air, and an unpleasant smell of burned flesh lingers, too. So General Sheridan is relieved when he reaches his destination. The First Baptist Congregational Church is one of the few downtown buildings that survived the blaze, and it's been requisitioned as the temporary seat of Chicago City Council.

When the great fire began, General Sheridan was asleep at home. But as soon as he was told about the inferno, General Sheridan immediately set into action. He summoned federal troops based just outside the city. These soldiers pulled down buildings ahead of the blaze to create a fire break, helping to stop its spread before the rain finally extinguished the flames. But now that the fire is out, a new threat to the city has emerged. Luters have begun ransacking damaged or abandoned houses and stores. Elsewhere, homeless survivors of the blaze are being targeted by racketeers who are selling

food, clothes, and other goods at vastly inflated prices. General Sheridan is sickened by what he's seen, but he's confident that he can put a stop to the lawless behavior, provided he's given the authority to do so. At the city council's temporary offices, General Sheridan knocks on the door of Chicago Mayor Roswell Mason. Mason quickly ushers him inside and shakes the general by the hand, thanking him for all his work on the city's behalf. Then the two men sit down to discuss how best to manage the growing humanitarian crisis in the city. At the end of their conversation, both are in agreement,

and Mayor Mason officially hands over authority for the city to General Sheridan. The first task is to restore order. Sheridan orders the regular troops under his command to patrol the streets to prevent looting and profiteering. Then he organizes the state militia, police, and bands of civilian volunteers to begin the clean cleanup effort. Debris is cleared from the streets to allow wagons and carriages through. 120 bodies are recovered from burned out buildings, although many more are thought to have been lost in the fire. And when the blocked streets are opened back up, crews set to work erecting temporary shelters on the outskirts of the city. Within a week, 5,000 two-room wooden cabins have

been built, providing much-needed living quarters for suddenly homeless Chicagoans. After two weeks of work, the state of emergency is declared over. General Sheridan stands down and hands control back to Mayor Mason and Chicago's city authorities. But Mason himself doesn't remain in power for long. Just two weeks later, Chicagoans go to the polls to elect a new mayor. And when the votes are counted, the results come as a shock to many. Before the fire, only a single candidate had been expected to run, and he was backed by both the Republican and Democratic parties.

but he's been defeated by an independent who threw his hat in the ring at the last moment. Joseph Madill's hastily arranged candidacy was centered on a single issue, a pledge to rebuild the city in such a way that it never burns again. But Mayor Madill does not live up to this promise. Though Chicago's counsel passes laws insisting that new homes must be made of fireproof materials, most homeowners and businesses ignore the regulations. Many Chicagoans didn't have fire insurance. and those that did mostly lost their documentation to the flames.

Without proof of their policies, the insurance companies refused to pay out. And as a result, many homeowners and businesses have little choice but to rebuild their property on the cheap. They use wood rather than stone, and they build on the same cramped, closely packed street plans as before. The results are another avoidable tragedy. Almost three years later, a second devastating fire breaks out in Chicago. This time, the blaze is contained before it reaches downtown, but another 800 buildings are destroyed in the south side, with 20 people losing their lives. This time, the authorities are determined not to repeat the same mistakes, so they insist that newly built houses follow regulations and must be constructed using fireproof materials like brick or stone. Masonry must be bound with mortar to prevent walls from easily collapsing, and roofs must be made from slate or terracotta.

So over the next few years, Chicago will rise from the ashes once again, but this time in a safer manner. A new city will take shape, and after two decades of hard work, the city's authorities will be ready to send a signal to the rest of the world that Chicago is back. It's July 10, 1893 in Chicago, 22 years after the Great Fire. Fire Department Captain James Fitzpatrick hustles through the busy streets towards the building that has smoke pouring from its roof. As the oldest man in his department, Captain Fitzpatrick is one of only a handful of veterans who battled the Great Fire more than two decades ago. This afternoon, he's been called into action again. A fire has broken out at a showpiece event designed to underscore Chicago's revival from the Great Fire. Three years ago, Chicago's Jackson Park was named as the venue for a national fair commemorating the 400th anniversary of Christopher Columbus's voyage to the New World.

But Chicago was a controversial choice. Many doubted the city's ability to host such a major event, especially since parts of Chicago were still being rebuilt. But city authorities were determined to show that Chicago was open for business. They built 200 spectacular exhibition halls across Jackson Park, and two months ago, the Colombian Exposition opened its gates to the world. Now, though, in this moment of triumph for the city, it seems that tragedy has struck once again.

Captain Fitzpatrick pushes his way through an enormous crowd, is gathered near the cold storage building, a five-story warehouse equipped with an ice rink on its top floor. Above that, a 200-foot-high tower is ablaze. Captain Fitzpatrick rushes inside and helps the ice rinks customers to send the stairs to ground level and safety. And when everyone's out, he climbs back up the steps to help fight the blaze in the tower.

But just as he gets there, the tower collapses. Captain Fitzpatrick is one of 17 who were killed that day. But unlike the Great Fire, 22 years earlier, the blaze at the Colombian exposition doesn't spread. The newly constructed halls have been spaced far enough apart that flames can't jump from building to building. They're also covered with a fireproof stone cladding, so burning debris in the air doesn't set them alight. Thanks to reforms instigated by the city council, Chicago is now a far safer place than it once was, with wider streets and fireproof buildings.

Despite the tragic loss of life at the cold storage building, the Colombian exposition will soon reopen for business. And by the time it closes for good, four months later, more than 27 million people will have visited Chicago and seen for themselves how the city has bounced back at last, more than two decades after it was almost burned to the ground in the great fire that began on October 8, 1871. Next, on History Daily, October 9, 1967. After being captured by Bolivian government troops during a guerrilla campaign in South America, Marxist revolutionary Che Guevara is executed.

From Noisor and Ayrship, this is History Daily, hosted, edited, and executive produced by me, Lindsay Graham. Audio editing by Mohamed Shazzy, sound designed by Gabriel Gould, music by Thrun. This episode is written and research by Scott Reeves, edited by Dorian Marina, managing producer Emily Burke, executive producers are William Simpson for Airship

and Pascal Hughes for Noiser.