EXCITING EXPERIENCES IN THE FIRE.
"If you ever saw a field of timothy grass blown flat by the wind and rain of a summer storm, that was the position of the dead at the exits of the second balcony," said Chief of Police O'Neill.
"In the rush for the stairs they had jammed in the doorway and piled ten deep; lying almost like shingles. When we got up the stairs in the dark to the front rows of the victims, some of them were alive and struggling, but so pinned down by the great weight of the dead and dying piled upon them that three strong men could not pull the unfortunate ones free.
"It was necessary first to take the dead from the top of the pile, then the rest of the bodies were lifted easily and regularly from their positions, save as their arms had intertwined and clutched.
"Nothing in my experience has ever approached the awfulness of the situation and it may be said that from the point of physical exertion, the police department has never been taxed as it has been taxed tonight. Men have been worn out simply with the carrying out of dead bodies, to say nothing of the awfulness of their burdens."
The strong hand of the chief was called into play when the dead had been removed and when the theater management appeared at the exit of the second balcony, seeking to pass theuniformed police who guarded the heaps of sealskins, purses, and tangled valuables behind them. A spokesman for the management, backed up by a negro special policeman of the house, stood before the half dozen city police on guard, asking to be admitted that these valuables might be removed to the checkrooms of the theater.
"But these things are the property of the coroner," replied the chief, coming up behind the delegation.
"But the theater management wishes to make sure of the safety of these valuables," insisted the spokesman.
"The department of police is responsible," replied Chief O'Neill.
EXPERIENCE OF CHICAGO UNIVERSITY MEN.
Clyde A. Blair, captain of the University of Chicago track team, and Victor S. Rice, 615 Yale avenue, a member of the team, accompanied Miss Majorie Mason, 5733 Monroe avenue, and Miss Anne Hough, 361 East Fifty-eighth street, to the matinee. They were sitting in the middle of the seventh row from the rear of the first floor. When the first flames broke through from the stage Miss Mason became alarmed. Seizing the girl, and leaving his overcoat and hat, Blair dragged her through the crush toward the door, closely followed by Rice and Miss Hough.
"The crush at the door," said Blair, "was terrific. Half of the double doors opening into the vestibule were fastened. People dashed against the glass, breaking it and forcing their way through. One woman fell down in the crowd directly in front of me. She looked up and said, 'For God's sake, don't trample on me.' I stepped around her, unable to help her up, and the crowd forced me past. I could not learn whether she was trampled over or not."
BISHOP BRAVES DANGER IN HEROIC WORK OF RESCUE.
"I was passing the theater when the panic began," said Bishop Samuel Fallows of the St. Paul's Reformed Episcopal church. "I heard the cry for volunteers and joined the men who went into the place to carry out the dead and injured. I had no idea of the extent of the disaster until I became actively engaged in the work.
"The sight when I reached the balconies was pitiful beyond description. It grew in horror as I looked over the seats. The bodies were in piles. Women had their hands over their faces as if to shield off a blow. Children lay crushed beneath their parents, as if they had been hurled to the marble floors.
"I saw the great battlefields of the civil war, but they were as nothing to this. When we began to take out the bodies we found that many of the audience had been unable to get even near the exits. Women were bent over the seats, their fingers clinched on the iron sides so strongly that they were torn and bleeding. Their faces and clothes were burned, and they must have suffered intensely.
"I ministered to all I could and some of them seemed to welcome the presence of a clergyman as it were a gift from God. There appeared to be little system in the work of rescue, but that was due, I believe, to the intense excitement."
WOMEN AND FOUR CHILDREN SUFFER.
Mrs. Anna B. Milliken, who is staying at Thompson's hotel, had four children in her charge, Felix, Jessie, Tony, and Jennie Guerrier, of 135 North Sangamon street, their ages ranging from 11 to 17 years. She and her chargeswere in the balcony, standing against the wall, when the fire started.
"Something told me to be calm," said Mrs. Milliken. "I had passed through one dreadful experience in the Chicago fire, and, though there was a great deal of confusion, I kept the children together, telling them not to be frightened. Men and women hurried past me, shouting like wild beasts, and if I had joined them the children and I would have been trampled under foot. It was minutes before I could leave with the two younger children. The two elder are lost. What shall I tell their folks," and the poor woman began to weep. Her face, as she stood in the lobby of the Northwestern building, was blistered and swollen. The back of her dress was burned through.
"What are the names of the missing children?" inquired a physician. "They are in here," and he led the distracted woman into one of the "first aid hospitals." There Mrs. Milliken saw her two charges so swathed in bandages that they could not be recognized.
LEARNS CHILDREN HAVE ESCAPED.
"I'm looking for two little girls—Berien is the name," shouted H. E. Osborne. "They live in Aurora."
"They've been here," answered Mr. Weisman. "They are all right and have been sent to their home in Aurora."
With a glad shout Osborne ran back to the office of the National Cash Register company, 50 State street, to inform Miss Mary Stevenson, whom the children had been visiting.
The Berien children were among the first to reach the offices of the Hallwood company after the fire broke out. By some chance they had made their way out uninjured. The story of their plight touched a stranger, who took them to arailway station and bought them tickets to their home in Aurora. One was about 14 and the other about 9 years old.
FINDS HIS DAUGHTER.
One young woman, terrified but uninjured, had found her way to this office and was sitting in a frightened stupor, when an elderly man hurried in from the street.
"Have you seen—" he started to ask, and then, catching sight of the forlorn little figure, he stopped. With a glad cry, father and daughter rushed into each other's arms, and the father bore his child away. Their names were not learned.
James Sullivan of Woodstock was probably the last man who got out of the parquet uninjured. With him was George Field, also of Woodstock, and the two fought their way out together.
MR. FIELD'S NARRATIVE.
"We were seated in the twelfth row," said Mr. Field, "when we saw fire at the top of the proscenium arch. At the same time some sparks fell on the stage.
"Eddie Foy came out and told the audience not to be afraid, to avoid a panic, and there would be no trouble. While he was speaking, however, a burning brand fell alongside of him, and then came what looked like a huge globe of fire. The moment it struck the stage fire spread everywhere.
"The panic started at once and everybody rushed for the doors. Sullivan and I were in the rear of the fleeing mass and made our way out as best we could without getting mixed up in the panic. As long as the women and children were struggling through the straight aisles there was not so much trouble except that some of the fugitives fell to the floor and had to be helped on their feet again. At times the womenand children would be lying four deep on the floor of the aisles, and in several instances we had to set them on their feet before we could go further. There was not much smoke and had the aisles been straight to the entrances every one could have got out practically unhurt.
"But when it came to the turns where they focus into the lobby the poor women and children were piled up into indiscriminate heaps. The screams and cries they uttered were something terrible. It was an impossibility to allay the panic and the frightened people simply trampled on those in front of them.
"Some of the people in the orchestra chairs immediately in front of the stage must have been burned by the fire. The fire darted directly among them and the chairs began burning at once. Those on this floor far enough in the rear to escape these flames would have been all right except for the crush of the panic.
"Sullivan, who was with me, was the last man out of the orchestra chairs who was not injured. Whoever was behind us must have been suffocated or burned to death. How many there were I have no means of knowing."
NARROW ESCAPES OF YOUNG AND OLD.
One of the narrow escapes in the first rush for the open air was that of Winnie Gallagher, 11 years old, 4925 Michigan avenue. The child, who was with her mother in the third row, was left behind in the rush for safety. She climbed to the top of the seat and, stepping from one chair to another, finally reached the door. There she was nearly crushed in the crowd. At the Central police station the child was restored to her mother.
Miss Lila Hazel Coulter, of 4760 Champlain avenue, wassitting with Mr. Kenneth Collins and Miss Helen Dickinson, 3637 Michigan avenue, in the eighth row in the parquet. She escaped in safety.
"I was sitting in the fifth seat from the aisle," said Miss Coulter, "but the fire, which was bursting out from both sides of the stage, had such a fascination for me."
D. W. Dimmick, of Apple River, Ill., an old man of 70, with a long, white beard, was standing in the upper gallery when the fire broke out.
"I was with a party of four," said Mr. Dimmick. "I saw small pieces of what looked like burning paper dropping down from above at the left of the curtain. At the same time small puffs of smoke seemed to shoot out into the house. A boy in the gallery near me called 'fire,' but there were plenty of people to stop him.
"'Keep quiet!' I told him. 'If you don't look out, you'll start a panic.'
"Then all of a sudden the whole front of the stage seemed to burst out in one mass of flame. Then everybody seemed to get up and start to get out of the place at once. From all over the house came shrieks and cries of 'fire,' I started at once, hugging the wall on the outside of the stairway as we went down.
"When we got down to the platform where the first balcony opens it seemed to me that people were stacked up like cordwood. There were men, women, and children in the lot. At the same time there were some people whom I thought must be actors, who came running out from somewhere in the interior of the house, and whose wigs and clothes were on fire. We tried to beat out the flames as we went along. By crowding out to the wall we managed to squeeze past the mass of people who were writhing on the floor, and practicallyblocking the entrance so far as the people still in the gallery were concerned.
PULLS WOMEN FROM MASS ON FLOOR.
"As we got by the mass on the floor I turned and caught hold of the arms of a woman who was lying near the bottom pinned down by the weight resting on her feet. I managed to pull her out, and I think she got down in safety. One of the men with me also pulled out another woman from the heap. I tried to rescue a man who was also caught by the feet, but, although I braced myself against the stairs, I was unable to move him.
"I came in from Apple River to see the sights in Chicago, and I have seen all I can stand."
Six little girls from Evanston, in a party occupying seats in the parquet, escaped by the side entrance. In the crush they lost most of their clothing. Four of the children stayed together, the other two being for the time lost in the street. The four were Hannah Gregg, 12 years old, 1038 Sheridan road; Florence and May Lang, 14 and 13 years old, Buena Park; Beatrice Moore, 12 years old, Buena Park.
HEROES OF THE FIRE.
One of the heroes of the Iroquois theater fire was Peter Quinn, chief special agent of the Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe railroad system, who assisted in saving the lives of 100 or more of the performers. But for the prompt service of Quinn and two citizens who assisted him it is believed that most of the performers would have met the fate of the victims in the theater proper.
Mr. Quinn had attended a trial in the Criminal court and in the middle of the afternoon started for the downtown district, intending to proceed to his office. Reaching Randolph and Dearborn streets the railroad official had his attention attracted to a man who rushed from the theater bare-headed and without his coat. What followed Quinn describes as follows:
"The actions of the man and the fact that he was without coat and hat attracted my attention and I watched him through curiosity. He ran so swiftly that he collided with several pedestrians, and I saw him rush toward a policeman on the street crossing. He said something to the policeman and then I saw the bluecoat rush excitedly away. My curiosity was then aroused to such an extent that I followed the young man who ran into the alley in the rear of the theater. He disappeared there and I was about to go on my way when my attention was attracted to the door leading upon the stage.
"As I passed I heard a commotion and saw the door wasslightly open, and, peeping into the opening, I asked what was the trouble. Then, for the first time, I learned that the theater was on fire. A number of strangers arrived at the door about the same time.
"The players, men, women, and children, had rushed to this small trap-door for escape, got caught in a solid mass, and were so firmly wedged together that they could not move. They were banked solidly against the little door, and it could not be opened. Nearly all of the players were in their stage costumes.
"The women screamed and begged us to rescue them, and the cries of the children could be heard above the hoarse shouts of the men. I did not realize it at that moment, but it develops that the players were in the same position as the unfortunates who met death in the front end of the house.
"Had we been unable to get that trap-door open when we did every member of that struggling crowd of men, women and children, would have perished where they stood, too tightly wedged together to permit even a slight struggle against death.
"Nobody at that time had the slightest idea of the serious state of affairs. We tried to force the door open, but the crowd was banked up too tightly against it. I shouted through the opening and commanded those in the rear to step back far enough to permit the door to be opened. It was like talking to empty space, however, and for a few moments we stood there helpless and without any means to assist those in distress.
"Then came a volume of smoke, and far in the rear of the crowd we could see the illumination from the flames. I had a number of small tools in my pocket, and immediately proceeded to remove the metal attachments which held the doorin place. This was accomplished with some difficulty, and then we managed to force the crowd back probably an inch, but that was sufficient. The door was then permitted to drop from its place, and one by one the imprisoned players were assisted into the alley.
"They were then in scanty costumes, but were quickly assisted to places of shelter. Even when the last player and stage hand had reached the alley we could not realize the awfulness of what had happened. I walked in upon the stage and found it a seething furnace. The players had been rescued just in time. A minute later and the flames and smoke would have reached the imperiled ones, and they would have been suffocated or burned where they stood."
THE PILES OF DEAD IN THE GALLERY.
William ("Smiling") Corbett was one of the first to penetrate the smoke and reach the balcony and gallery of the theater where the most fearful loss of life occurred. Charley Dexter, the Boston National league player, and Frank Houseman, the old Chicago second baseman, went to his assistance.
Corbett was stopped by a fear-frenzied little woman, who begged him to save her two children.
"They're up in the gallery," she cried.
Corbett made a dash for the balcony entrance on the right.
"Don't go up there," admonished some of the firemen about; "you'll get hemmed in."
Corbett groped his way onward and upward, stumbling over bodies lying prostrate on the staircase, and finally reached the gallery entrance.
"There they were," said Corbett afterward. "Positively the most sickening spectacle I ever saw. They were piled up in bunches, in all manner of disarray. I grabbed for thetopmost body, a girl about 6 years old. Catching her by the wrist I felt the flesh curl up under my grasp. I hurried down with the little one, then back again, each time with the body of a child.
"I then realized that no good could come of any further effort. Everybody was stark dead. I turned away and fled. I never again want to go near the place."
EDDIE FOY'S HEROISM.
Eddie Foy, leading comedian in "Mr. Bluebeard," said:
"I was in my dressing room, one tier up off the stage, when I smelled smoke. The 'Moonlight ballet' was on, and it was three minutes before the time for my entrance on the first scene of the second act.
"I looked up and immediately over me, in the left first entrance, I saw sparks and a small cloud of smoke. The members of the company and of the chorus had already started off the stage. My eldest boy, Bryan, was standing under the light bridge in the first entrance, and, taking him by the hand, I turned him over to one of the stage hands with orders to get him out of the theater. In less time than it takes to tell it, the little wreath of smoke and the tiny sparks had grown in volume. The smoke and some of the sparks had already made their way into the main part of the house, curling down and around the lower edge of the proscenium arch.
"I looked at the house through an opening, and that was enough. I tried to appear as calm as possible under the conditions, realizing what a stampede would mean. Just what I said I cannot for the life of me now recall. In effect, though, this is about it:
"'Ladies and gentlemen, there is no danger. Don't get excited. Walk out calmly.'
"Between each breath, and these were coming in short, sharp gasps, I kept yelling out from the corner of my lips: 'Lower that iron curtain; drop the fire curtain!'
"The balcony and gallery were packed with women and children, and fully aware of what was in store for these hapless ones, my heart sank.
"The cracking of the timbers above increased. The smoke was growing more dense. I knew the material aloft—flimsy, dry linens, parched canvas, and paint-coated tapestries and drops.
"Without raising my voice to a pitch calculated to alarm, and yet unmistakably urgent in its appeal, I repeated: 'Get out—get out slowly.'
"The northeast corner of the fly gallery was now a furnace. Just as I made the last appeal to the balcony and the gallery a fiercely blazing ember dropped at my feet. Another, a smaller one, was caught in the draft and forced out into the theater proper.
"'Drop the fire curtain,' I shouted again, looking in vain for it to come down. I know that not a soul in the theater proper would be in danger if this was done. The switchboard was there—but no one to work it. I cried out for Carleton, our stage manager. He was gone. I called for 'Pete,' one of the electricians. He, too, was gone.
"'Does any one know how this iron curtain is worked?' I yelled at the mob of fleeing stage hands, members of the company, property men, and musicians. Not an answer.
"At the first sign of danger, after reaching the footlights, I said to Dillea, our orchestra leader:
"'An overture, Herbert, an overture.'
"Dillea—God bless him, his ranks already thinning out in the orchestra pit—struck up the 'Sleeping Beauty and theBeast' overture. Of the thirty odd musicians in the pit not over half a dozen remained to follow Dillea and his baton. But the little fellow, ashen pale, his eyes glued on the raging mass of flame above, never whimpered. He kept right on, and only left his post when the flames drove him away from his leader's stand. When Dillea disappeared down the opening in the orchestra pit half of the lower floor had been emptied. This I noticed only in an aside, for my eyes were fastened on the sea of agonized, distracted little ones in the balcony and gallery."
AN ELEVATOR BOY HERO.
The bottom of the elevator shaft in the doomed theater was a scene of pandemonium when the stage hands tried to get the girls out. Archie Barnard headed the chain gang and behind him were J. R. O'Mally, Arthur Hart and William Price. As soon as the women reached the floor they began to run wild, and had to be caught and tossed from one man to another. The women in the first tier of dressing rooms were the first down and they were helped out without much trouble.
On his second trip up with the elevator young Robert Smith ascended into an atmosphere that was so thick with smoke that he could not see or breathe. He found one of the girls on the sixth floor and then took on another load from the fifth. By the time he had come down with these, the flames and smoke were threatening the men in the chain. The clothing of Barnard and William Price was on fire and their hair was burning. Nevertheless they threw the girls out and waited for the third load.
This load came near not arriving. The smoke was so thick that Smith had to find the girls and drag them into theelevator and by the time he had done this he was almost overcome. The elevator was burning at the place where the controller was located, and Smith had to place his left hand in the flame to start the car. The hand was badly burned, but the car was started and came down in time for the girls to receive assistance from the men who were waiting. When the last girl was out the men left the building.
Up in the gridiron, where the smoke was thickest, the four German boys who worked the aerial apparatus were caught, fully sixty feet from the stage floor, and no one had time to come to their assistance or to pay any attention to them, because there were too many other people to be saved.
At first, they did not know what to do. As the smoke became thicker and the heat more intense they moved to get out. One of them, who was some distance from his companions, was caught in the flames of one of the burning pieces of draperies, and either because he lost his presence of mind or because he could not hold out any longer, he jumped. Some of the people on the stage floor heard him fall, but he did not move and no one could help him. He could not be found after the other people escaped from the stage. His three companions climbed over the gridiron scaffolding and made their way down the stairway to safety.
"I heard the little fellow fall," said Arthur Hart, "and that is the last I knew of him. It was a long jump, and I presume that he was badly injured."
"I stuck to the car until the ropes parted," said young Smith, the elevator boy, "and then I began to get faint. Someone reached in and pulled me out just in time to save my life. The larger part of the girls were in the dressing rooms when the fire broke out, and they all tried to get out at once. Agreat many tried to crowd into the elevator and it was hard work to keep it going. I made as many trips as I could."
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 Dearborn 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, struggling 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 building, 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.
"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 children 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 orchestra 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 employes, 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 they 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 attention was paid to them.
In describing his experiences Dillea said:
"It was during the second verse of the 'Pale Moonlight' song that I suddenly saw a red light to my left in the proscenium arch. The moment I saw the red glare I knew therewas a fire, and in whispers I ordered the other members of the orchestra to play as fast as they could, as I thought the asbestos 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, assuring 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 theater 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 2½ 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 thesmaller boy with him down the stairs from the first balcony in which the party was seated. The two boys were unable to move 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.
THE ORIGIN OF THE FIRE—THE ASBESTOS CURTAIN AND THE LIGHTS.
The real story of the origin of the fire was told by William 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 between 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 notclap 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 was about twenty feet above the lights which were being used, having left my place to watch the performance," he said. "While I was looking down on the performers I noticed 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. Whether 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 performer, 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. Whenthat awful darkness fell on the house the frenzied people did not know where to turn. They had not become fully acquainted with the turns because the theater was new. I was there and assisted in removing the dead and dying, and having 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 Iroquois 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 noticed to have ignited from some cause. It was detected before 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 causeinherent 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 audience, 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 lowered, produced a bellying of the asbestos curtain, causing a pressure on the guides against the solid brick wall of the proscenium, 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 combustible in the construction of the house except the trimmings and furnishings of the stage and auditorium. In the building of the theater we sacrificed more space to aisles and exits than any theater in America."
FIRST RELIABLE STATEMENT AS TO WHY THE CURTAIN DID NOT COME DOWN.
The man who gave the first reliable explanation of the failure 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 quicksilver 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 desired position, and projected from the wall. When the reflector 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 began," 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 noticed 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.
"I ran round to the north side and up the stairs to the northbridge. 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 11 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 asbestos 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 doorsat the rear of the stage, he says, caused such a draft that the curtain could not be raised again to free it from the obstruction.
Dougherty denies that the wire used by the flying ballet had anything to 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 rigging was not in the way.
THE THEATER FIREMAN'S NARRATIVE.
W. C. Saller was the fireman employed by the theater managers to look after fire protection. He was formerly connected 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 curtain. 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."
Saller was severely burned about the hands and face.
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 human agency could have prevented the disaster that followed.
THE CHIEF ELECTRICAL INSPECTOR'S TALE.
Chief Electrical Inspector H. H. Hornsby of the city electrician'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 electricity 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 readily 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. Tousley made twenty-five or thirty inspections. Though the ordinance 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 connecting 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. Iam satisfied there was not a better job in Chicago. I do not believe it could 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 being 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 prevent 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 illuminate 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, whichwould be the righthand side to the audience, when my attention 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 toward 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 almost 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 particular 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. Assistant 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 apparatus is located under the place where the fire started at the leftside of the stage. It was made of metal and marble and practically indestructible. The wires were led into the switchboard 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 sweeping 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 auditorium, 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 condition of the board showing that it could not have been tampered 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."
SUGGESTIONS OF ARCHITECTS AND OTHER EXPERTS AS TO AVOIDING LIKE CALAMITIES.
Robert S. Lindstrom, a well known Chicago architect, makes the following 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 officials, 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 when the seating 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 horror as has been witnessed at the Iroquois, which was advertised 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 runningfrom aisle to aisle shall be large enough to allow a person to get out without disturbing all the people seated in the section. 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 framework, 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 connect with the aisle in front, also the aisle in rear, without any obstructions, and an exit door placed at end of each aisle leading 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 replaced 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 fastened to the floor construction.
"Doors should swing out; in addition to door handle threshold 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 provided 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 damper 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 conduit fireproofed and in addition to switch an electric emergency 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 fireproofconduits, 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 auditorium. The place is generally on the gallery. In the Iroquois 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 inches 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 patrons 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 thesafety 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 Pittsburg, 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 explosion. There were ample fire exits and they were available. The house could have been emptied in less than five minutes if they were all utilized. The fact that so many people 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 theInland Architect, who spent some time investigating the claim that the theater was equipped with an asbestos fire curtain, said: "After a careful investigation, I am convinced that the theater was not equipped with a curtain such as is demanded by the city ordinances.
"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 beenremoved, 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 theater had a fire curtain. No one denies that there was a curtain 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 other 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 regarding the fire drop. Mr. Frankenstein said that the stage manager 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."
PROPOSED PRECAUTIONS FOR NEW YORK THEATERS.
Charles H. Israels of the firm of Israels & Harder, architects of the new Hudson theater, and several of the large hotels, suggested a number of precautions which might be adopted 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 audience are not familiar, and which are used so seldom that the employes are unused to having the audience pass outthrough 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 accustomed 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 owners of most of New York's playhouses.
"In a few of the theaters it might be argued that the stairways at the emergency exits were not sufficiently inclosed to allow the crowds to pass down in safety. The law now requires 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 compel the use of scenery on frames of light metal covered with canvas that has been saturated in a fireproof solution. Fireproof paint is compulsory on the woodwork behind the proscenium wall, but in painting scenery combustible paint may be used.
"The law should be most strictly enforced as to the cleaning out of rubbish beneath the stage. In a number of the theaters of New York this is done only occasionally."