1860's Chicago River, looking west toward Wells Street from Clark (History of Chicago 1857 until the Fire) |
TERRIBLE CALAMITY.
So screamed the
headline of the Chicago Tribune on November 9, 1861. The article that followed described the
explosion of the steamship Globe, tied up at a Wells Street dock, a disaster
that claimed the lives of 15 people. The
ship, one of the largest at work on the Great Lakes, had come into port from
Buffalo at about 4:00 a.m. on November 8.
As it prepared to unload freight later in the morning, an explosion of
“fearful violence” occurred, “tearing the steamer in pieces with a large
destruction of property.” [Chicago
Tribune, November 9, 1861]
The tremendous
sound of the explosion reverberated throughout the city, and people rushed to the
docks to witness the spectacle. The
ship, torn apart for two-thirds of her length, sank almost immediately with
about 20 feet of her upper works still visible.
It was immediately clear that the death toll would be large.
Among the dead were
several individuals who were as much victims of fate as of the explosion of the
steamer. James R. Hobby, 25-years-old, was assisting a clerk who had gone on board to check on a shipment for his
employer. The clerk had returned to the
office moments earlier, leaving James to finish the work.
Mary Golding,
15-years-old, was on the dock with her ten-year-old sister, picking up apples
that had fallen from broken barrels, part of the ship’s cargo. Mary died.
Her sister, who was less than ten feet away, was uninjured and ran home
to their parents’ home at Franklin and Kinzie, screaming that “somebody had fired a cannon
at Mary and killed her.”
Patrick Donahoe was
killed by a large oak beam as he stood in front of a saloon on Wells
Street. A father and two daughters who
had booked passage on the ship and left it after it docked,returned to
pick up their luggage just before the disaster. The father and one
of his daughters died. The other
daughter survived.
The explosion of
the steamer was of such force that huge pieces of the vessel were hurled in all
directions, prompting incredible stories of near-misses.
Nelson Luddington
was driving his buggy along Wells Street when a stick of firewood from the
Globe completely destroyed the buggy. A
200-pound piece of chain was hurled through the window of a produce dealer,
slamming into a heavy iron safe, which prevented it from traveling through the
wall into the adjoining office where several people were at work.
A 200-pound deck
beam rocketed through the fourth floor window of a business on Lake Street,
near Wells. A large piece of chain,
about five feet long, fell through the roof and ceiling of the Merchants’
Police Station on Wells Street and passed between two men as they lay sleeping
after doing night service.
Captain Amos Pratt
had left the boat at about 7:30 a.m., about two hours before the
explosion. His belief was that after the
boat docked, water was drawn down in one of the boilers while the other boiler
was keep at a low pressure for moving the boat and hoisting freight. He surmised that explosion was caused by
“carelessness on the part of someone,” most probably by failure to check the
system adequately before introducing cold river water into a red-hot boiler
that had no water in it. The boilers had
passed an inspection by United States officials the previous May in Buffalo.
The Globe lay where it sank until April of 1862 as the parties involved in its removal fought
over who would pay for the operation. In February of that year the Chicago City
Attorney ruled that the city was most certainly not responsible for cleaning up
the wreckage. By March the boat’s owners
had hired contractor Martin Quigley to clean up the wreckage, paying him
$1,500 and any material that he could salvage.
In that process another crewmember’s body, believed to be the fireman’s,
was found on March 18, 1861.
In a short
two-sentence blurb on April 3 The Tribune reported that three tugboats were
towing the hulk toward Miller & Hook’s dry dock on the north branch of the
river. “It is good riddance to our
river,” the paper concluded.
The accident, as
horrible as it was, could have been a lot worse. “. . . it is a hair-breadth escape for
hundreds,” The Tribune observed, “when with a violence an explosion of
gunpowder could scarcely parallel, a boiler is thus blown up in the very heart
of a busy city, and sends its fearful missiles whirling hundreds of feet through
the air to light at random in our streets. Reviewing the disaster it is almost miraculous, to see how few lives
were lost, and amid all the sorrow, this is an abundant cause for
congratulation.” [Chicago Tribune, November 10, 1861]
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