seamus dubhghaill

Promoting Irish Culture and History from Little Rock, Arkansas, USA


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The Great Chicago Fire

The Great Chicago Fire, a conflagration that destroys roughly 3.3 square miles of Chicago, Illinois, including over 17,000 structures, kills approximately 300 people and leaves more than 100,000 residents homeless, starts at about 8:30 p.m. on October 8, 1871, in or around a small barn belonging to the Irish immigrant O’Leary family that borders the alley behind 137 W. DeKoven Street.

The shed next to the barn is the first building to be consumed by the fire. City officials never determine the cause of the blaze, but the rapid spread of the fire due to a long drought in that year’s summer, strong winds from the southwest, and the rapid destruction of the water pumping system, explain the extensive damage of the mainly wooden city structures. There has been much speculation over the years on a single start to the fire. The most popular tale blames Catherine O’Leary‘s cow, who allegedly knocked over a lantern; others state that a group of men were gambling inside the barn and knocked over a lantern. Still other speculation suggests that the blaze was related to other fires in the Midwest that day.

The fire’s spread is aided by the city’s use of wood as the predominant building material in a style called balloon framing. More than two-thirds of the structures in Chicago at the time of the fire are made entirely of wood, with most of the houses and buildings being topped with highly combustible tar or shingle roofs. All of the city’s sidewalks and many roads are also made of wood. Compounding this problem, Chicago receives only 1 inch of rain from July 4 to October 9, causing severe drought conditions before the fire, while strong southwest winds help to carry flying embers toward the heart of the city.

In 1871, the Chicago Fire Department has 185 firefighters with just 17 horse-drawn steam pumpers to protect the entire city.  The initial response by the fire department is timely, but due to an error by the watchman, Matthias Schaffer, the firefighters are initially sent to the wrong place, allowing the fire to grow unchecked.  An alarm sent from the area near the fire also fails to register at the courthouse where the fire watchmen are, while the firefighters are tired from having fought numerous small fires and one large fire in the week before. These factors combined to turn a small barn fire into a conflagration.

When firefighters finally arrive at DeKoven Street, the fire has grown and spread to neighboring buildings and is progressing toward the central business district. Firefighters hope that the South Branch of the Chicago River and an area that had previously thoroughly burned would act as a natural firebreak.  All along the river, however, are lumber yards, warehouses, and coal yards, and barges and numerous bridges across the river. As the fire grows, the southwest wind intensifies and becomes superheated, causing structures to catch fire from the heat and from burning debris blown by the wind. Around midnight, flaming debris blows across the river and lands on roofs and the South Side Gas Works. 

With the fire across the river and moving rapidly toward the heart of the city, panic sets in. About this time, Mayor Roswell B. Mason sends messages to nearby towns asking for help. When the courthouse catches fire, he orders the building to be evacuated, and the prisoners jailed in the basement to be released. At 2:30 a.m. on October 9, the cupola of the courthouse collapses, sending the great bell crashing down.  Some witnesses report hearing the sound from a mile away.

As more buildings succumbed to the flames, a major contributing factor to the fire’s spread is a meteorological phenomenon known as a fire whirl. As overheated air rises, it comes into contact with cooler air and begins to spin, creating a tornado-like effect. These fire whirls are likely what drives flaming debris so high and so far. Such debris is blown across the main branch of the Chicago River to a railroad car carrying kerosene. The fire has jumped the river a second time and is now raging across the city’s north side.

Despite the fire spreading and growing rapidly, the city’s firefighters continue to battle the blaze. A short time after the fire jumps the river, a burning piece of timber lodges on the roof of the city’s waterworks. Within minutes, the interior of the building is engulfed in flames and the building is destroyed. With it, the city’s water mains go dry and the city is helpless. The fire burns unchecked from building to building, block to block.

Finally, late into the evening of October 9, it starts to rain, but the fire has already started to burn itself out. The fire had spread to the sparsely populated areas of the north side, having thoroughly consumed the densely populated areas.

Once the fire has ended, the smoldering remains are still too hot for a survey of the damage to be completed for many days. Eventually, the city determines that the fire destroyed an area about 4 miles long and averaging 3⁄4 mile wide, encompassing an area of more than 2,000 acres. Destroyed are more than 73 miles of roads, 120 miles of sidewalk, 2,000 lampposts, 17,500 buildings, and $222 million in property, which is about a third of the city’s valuation in 1871.

On October 11, 1871, General Philip H. Sheridan comes quickly to the aid of the city and is placed in charge by a proclamation, given by mayor Roswell B. Mason.

To protect the city from looting and violence, the city is put under martial law for two weeks under Gen. Sheridan’s command structure with a mix of regular troops, militia units, police, and a specially organized civilian group “First Regiment of Chicago Volunteers.”

For two weeks Sheridan’s men patrol the streets, guard the relief warehouses, and enforce other regulations. On October 24, the troops are relieved of their duties and the volunteers are mustered out of service.

Of the approximately 324,000 inhabitants of Chicago in 1871, 90,000 residents (about 28% of the population) are left homeless. One hundred twenty bodies are recovered, but the death toll is believed to possibly exceed 300. The county coroner speculates that an accurate count is impossible, as some victims may have drowned or been incinerated, leaving no remains.

In the days and weeks following the fire, monetary donations flow into Chicago from around the country and abroad, along with donations of food, clothing, and other goods. These donations come from individuals, corporations, and cities.

Almost from the moment the fire breaks out, various theories about its cause begin to circulate. The most popular and enduring legend maintains that the fire began in the O’Leary barn as Mrs. O’Leary is milking her cow. The cow kicks over a lantern (or an oil lamp in some versions), setting fire to the barn. The O’Leary family denies this, stating that they were in bed before the fire started, but stories of the cow begin to spread across the city. Catherine O’Leary seems the perfect scapegoat: she is a poor, Irish Catholic immigrant. During the latter half of the 19th century, anti-Irish sentiment is strong in Chicago and throughout the United States. This is intensified as a result of the growing political power of the city’s Irish population.

Furthermore, the United States has been distrustful of Catholics since its beginning, carrying over attitudes in England in the 17th century. As an Irish Catholic, Mrs. O’Leary is a target of both anti-Catholic and anti-Irish sentiment. This story is circulating in Chicago even before the flames die out and is noted in the Chicago Tribune‘s first post-fire issue. In 1893, the reporter Michael Ahern retracts the “cow-and-lantern” story, admitting it is fabricated, but even his confession is unable to put the legend to rest. Catherine O’Leary turns into a recluse after the fire and dies in 1895. Although the O’Learys are never officially charged with starting the fire, the story becomes so engrained in local lore that Chicago’s city council officially exonerates them — and the cow — in 1997.

(Pictured: A Currier & Ives lithograph showing people fleeing across the Randolph Street Bridge)


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Birth of George Fitzmaurice, Playwright & Writer

George Fitzmaurice, Irish dramatist and short story writer, some of whose plays were broadcast on Radio Éireann, is born at Bedford House, Listowel, County Kerry on the January 28, 1877.

Fitzmaurice attends Duagh National School and later St. Michael’s College, Listowel. He is brought up in the Protestant faith as his father is a Protestant clergyman and is the vicar of St. John’s Church, Listowel. His father dies when he is fourteen years old and the family fortune declines. He takes a job in Dublin as a clerk in the Congested Districts Board for Ireland. In 1916 he enlists in the British Army and returns to Dublin after the war and is diagnosed with neurasthenia, rendering him fearful of crowds. On his return to Dublin, he takes up a position working for the Irish Land Commission.

Fitzmaurice and his eleven siblings are the children of a mixed marriage. He and his brothers are brought up as Protestants and his sisters are brought up as Roman Catholics. His family home at Bedford, together with its extensive lands has to be given up as collateral in respect of a £60 debt owed to the local butcher. Neither Fitzmaurice nor any of his eleven siblings are to marry or have any offspring. He is the last Fitzmaurice of Duagh. There are no photographs of him other than a sketch of him in later life.

Fitzmaurice’s first success was in 1907, with an Abbey Theatre production of his comedy The Country Dressmaker which features one of his most famous characters, Luke Quilter, “The man from the mountain.” This character proves to be a favourite with the audience, to the surprise of William Butler Yeats. The play’s commercial success brings necessary income to the Abbey Theatre in 1907. The play is ultimately broadcast by the Radio Éireann Players.

Fitzmaurice’s second play is a dramatic fantasy called The Pie Dish. It is heavily rejected and slated by critics and considered blasphemous. This leads to the rejection of another of his plays called The Dandy Dolls which is now understood as another of his best plays. It is produced in the Abbey Theatre in 1969, six years after his death.

During Fitzmaurice’s lifetime, some of his dramatic works are produced by poet Austin Clarke in Lyric Theatre, Dublin. In 1923 his play Twixt by Giltinans and the Carmodys is also performed on Abbey and eight more of his plays are printed in the literary journey The Dublin Magazine from 1924 to 1925.

The effects of having fought in World War I lead to Fitzmaurice becoming increasingly reclusive over time. With a fear of travelling and people or crowds, he spends his later years following “monotonous routines in Dublin.” On May 12, 1963, he dies in poverty at his home at 3 Harcourt Street and is buried in Mount Jerome Cemetery. In his room there are no pictures of himself, few personal mementos, but he does have a copy of almost every play he had published, as well as some unpublished drafts. Besides his personal clothing, there is little else. He dies without leaving a will.

In 1965, RTÉ reports that “the works of George Fitzmaurice are now undergoing something of a revival.” A fellow Kerry playwright, John B. Keane, states at the time that Fitzmaurice is increasingly being recognised as the great dramatist he truly was. He also describes his work as having “practical clarity of speech coupled with a great conciseness, and a tightness in his writing and in his construction.” Michael Connor, the man who owns the Fitzmaurice property in Daugh, recounts that he often saw Fitzmaurice in the town after his retirement from the civil service but by that time the dramatist had completely lost interest in seeing his own plays on the stage.

In his native Daugh, The George Fitzmaurice Library is founded, and on October 14, 1995, a headstone that is sculpted by a local and commissioned by the Duagh Historical Society, is placed over Fitzmaurice’s grave.


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Death of Christy Brown, Writer & Painter

christy-brown

Christy Brown, Irish writer and painter who has cerebral palsy and is able to write or type only with the toes of one foot, dies on September 7, 1981, in Parbrook, Somerset, England. His most recognized work is his autobiography, My Left Foot (1954).

Brown is born into a working-class Irish family at the Rotunda Hospital in Dublin on June 5, 1932. He is one of 22 siblings of parents Bridget Fagan and Patrick Brown. After his birth, doctors discover that he has severe cerebral palsy, a neurological disorder which leaves him almost entirely spastic in his limbs. Though urged to commit him to a hospital, his parents are unswayed and subsequently determined to raise him at home with their other children. During his adolescence, social worker Katriona Delahunt becomes aware of his story and begins to visit the Brown family regularly. She brings him books and painting materials as, over the years, he has shown a keen interest in the arts and literature. He has also demonstrated extremely impressive physical dexterity since, soon after discovering several household books, he had learned to both write and draw himself with his left leg, the only limb over which he has unequivocal control.

Brown quickly matures into a serious artist. Although he famously receives almost no formal schooling during his youth, he does attend St. Brendan’s School-Clinic in Sandymount intermittently. At St. Brendan’s he comes in contact with Dr. Robert Collis, a noted author. Collis discovers that Brown is also a natural novelist and, later, helps use his own connections to publish My Left Foot, by then a long-gestating autobiographical account of Brown’s struggle with everyday life amidst the vibrant culture of Dublin.

When My Left Foot becomes a literary sensation, one of the many people who write letters to Brown is married American woman Beth Moore. Brown and Moore become regular correspondents and, in 1960, he holidays in North America and stays with Moore at her home in Connecticut. When they meet again in 1965, they began an affair. Brown journeys to Connecticut once more to finish his magnum opus, which he had been developing for years. He finally does so in 1967 with help from Moore, who introduces and administers a strict working regimen, mostly by denying him alcohol until a day’s work is completed. The book, Down All the Days, is published in 1970. It is an ambitious project drawn largely from a playful expansion of My Left Foot. It becomes an international best-seller, translated into fourteen languages. The Irish Times reviewer Bernard Share claims the work is “the most important Irish novel since Ulysses.”

Down All the Days is followed by a series of other novels, including A Shadow on Summer (1972), Wild Grow the Lilies (1976) and A Promising Career (published posthumously in 1982). He also publishes three poetry collections: Come Softly to My Wake, Background Music and Of Snails and Skylarks. All the poems are included in The Collected Poems of Christy Brown.

Brown’s fame continues to spread internationally, and he becomes a prominent celebrity. Upon his return to Ireland, he is able to use proceeds from the sales of his books to design and move into a specially constructed home outside Dublin with his sister’s family. Though he and Beth had planned to marry and live together at the new home, and though Moore had informed her husband of these plans, it is around this time that he begins an affair with Englishwoman Mary Carr, whom he meets at a party in London. He then terminates his affair with Moore and marries Carr at the Registry Office, Dublin, in 1972. They move to Stoney Lane, Rathcoole, County Dublin, to Ballyheigue, County Kerry and then to Somerset. He continues to paint, write novels, poetry and plays. His 1974 novel, A Shadow on Summer, is based on his relationship with Moore, whom he still considers a friend.

Brown’s health deteriorates after marrying Carr. He becomes mainly a recluse in his last years, which is thought to be a direct result of Carr’s influence and perhaps abusive nature. He dies at the age of 49 on September 7, 1981, after choking during a lamb chop dinner. His body is found to have significant bruising, which leads many to believe that Carr had physically abused him. Further suspicions arise after Georgina Hambleton’s biography, The Life That Inspired My Left Foot, reveals a supposedly more accurate and unhealthier version of their relationship. The book portrays Carr as an abusive alcoholic and habitually unfaithful. He is buried in the Glasnevin Cemetery in Dublin.

A film adaptation of My Left Foot directed by Jim Sheridan is produced in 1989 from a screenplay by Shane Connaughton. Daniel Day-Lewis stars as Brown and Brenda Fricker as his mother. Both win Academy Awards for their performances. The film also receives Academy Award nominations for Best Picture, Best Director, and Best Adapted Screenplay.

The Anglo-Irish rock band The Pogues pay tribute to Christy Brown with a song titled “Down All the Days.” It is the seventh track on their 1989 recording Peace and Love. Similarly, U2 releases a song titled “Down All the Days” with the 20th anniversary edition of Achtung Baby. The Men They Couldn’t Hang also writes a song “Down All the Days” which appears on their Silver Town album also released in 1989.