THE START
The fire started a little before eleven on Sunday morning, April 12,
1908. Its origin will probably never be positively known. The most
plausible theory, however, is that the roof of a building of the Boston
Blacking Company, which is located just off Summer Street, close to
the Everett line, in the extreme western part of the city, caught fire
from a burning pile of rags on the dump to the windward. At all events,
the flames were first seen just before eleven o’clock licking up this
inflammable building with its contents of oil, and sending a shower of
sparks blown by a forty-mile gale towards the heart of the city, and an
alarm was at once sent in.
Immediately upon his arrival Fire Chief Spencer ordered a second alarm
sounded as a matter of precaution, owing to the high wind. The firemen
did good work and soon had the initial blaze well in check, as is shown
by the fact that the remaining buildings of this company close by were
saved.
Soon after the second alarm was sounded the firemen and spectators were
astonished to see the three-story rag-shop of T. Lewitzky & Son, fully
two blocks away, burst into flames. Apparatus to successfully fight its
burning was not available. It was this fire that doomed Chelsea, for
sparks from it started fires in several directions.
Opposite Lewitzky’s factory was the tar paper factory of Chapin &
Sawdin. The fierce heat from the tar paper drove the firemen back.
A shed containing a large quantity of gasoline near by soon caught
fire and blew up, just after a man, who was trying to save it, was
ordered off by the police. This explosion set fire to houses in the
vicinity, which were principally of old-fashioned wooden construction,
and allowed the fire to get such impetus that it spread out diagonally
across the wind like a fan. When it reached Everett Avenue on the north
and set fire to Justin S. Perkins’ hay shed it looked as if nothing
could save the Standard Oil Station, not over two hundred feet to the
windward. “Cy” Coben was showing his nerve by sticking to his plant,
but it was to the Malden firemen that Chelsea people are indebted for
the saving of the northern section of the city. They arrived just in
the nick of time and without thought of their personal safety, or of
the awful result if the thousands of gallons of naphtha blew up, stuck
by and saved the building.
If this plant had burned the exploding oil would have set fire to the
great building of the Eastern Storage Company across the railroad
track, and nothing could have prevented it making a clean sweep of
Caryville, increasing the burned area by at least one hundred acres.
As it was, the fire did not cross the tracks until an hour later, and
then there was enough apparatus to extinguish it. After once getting
hold of the little buildings on Maple Street, the flames almost
simultaneously laid relentless hold of wooden buildings on all the
surrounding streets. It raced down Summer, West Third, and Elm streets
to Arlington Street, burning everything on Spruce Street and Everett
Avenue.
Although it took but a short time for the fire to reach and burn the
city stables, through the energy of City Engineer O’Brion all of the
horses, carts, harnesses, tools, etc., were saved, which was fortunate,
as it enabled the city to set large numbers of unemployed to work the
next day cleaning the streets.
Before this time assistance had been asked of Boston, Everett, Revere,
Lynn, Winthrop, Cambridge, Malden, Medford, and Melrose, and the
engines soon began to arrive; but from the moment the fire crossed
Arlington Street there was no formidable stand made against it, as it
spread so rapidly under the impulse of the gale and stretched out over
so long a front, backed by acres of lurid flames.
[Illustration: RESPONDING TO THE FIRST ALARM]
Not till it actually passed Arlington Street did people have any
apprehension that it would not be stopped at this line, where the
houses were of substantial brick construction. Ash Street, next to
Arlington, was soon blazing and spreading the fire towards the railroad
track in one direction, and Second Street in the other. The people on
Walnut Street, next beyond, began moving out, and soon Union Park, near
by, was filled with household goods. Women with babies in their arms
stood huddled in the smoke, old men stood guard over the few things
they had saved, and crying children hunted in vain for their parents.
All the section about Walnut Street was inhabited by poor people with
large families; Jews predominated, but all nations were represented.
Many could not speak English, and panic seized all.
It seems as if every one tried first to save a mattress, which would
become ignited before it was carried a block, and add to the volume
of the flames. The yards and open spaces were strewn with old bedding
and other inflammable material, which assisted in spreading the
fire. Trunks and other heavy things were dropped from upper windows,
regardless of those beneath. In some cases men and women fought as to
what they would save, while their houses burned. One man loaded a team
with old junk; some women cried and refused to look at the flames,
others were hysterical and looked and laughed. Many Jewish women
carried live hens in their arms. All fled towards the park, but this
haven of refuge was only temporary, for soon the suffocating smoke
drove them out, and a few minutes later the flames destroyed most of
the property laboriously removed from the houses. From here people
dragging little ones or some article of furniture made for the railroad
station, with the flames in close pursuit.
While the human beings were having such a hard time of it, dogs and
cats were also having their sufferings. Looking out into Walnut Street
one dog was seen, that had once been black, rushing madly about; its
hide had been singed to a crisp, and when last seen it was headed right
into the flames. On many streets dogs, cats, and hens were found after
the fire, burned to death, and many horses also perished, as more would
have, but for heroic work. In one instance Frank W. Wentworth, with
some help, saved nineteen horses from a burning building by covering
their eyes with blankets.
Huntington Smith of the Animal Rescue League estimates that as many as
two thousand cats were burned to death. He says that these figures are
conservative, and gives as the reason their devotion to their homes;
dogs, on the other hand, are more devoted to their masters, whom they
followed, and for this reason very few perished.
From Walnut Street the fire leaped across Fifth and entered the windows
of the new Jewish synagogue and literally lapped it up, and then hurled
itself against the imposing brick walls of the Central Congregational
Church at the corner of Fifth and Walnut streets. This church is one
of the largest in the city, yet the flames took but a few moments to
go from the basement up through the immense auditorium into the tower.
While these buildings were burning the fire had destroyed on the other
side of the city and at intermediate places the African Methodist
Church, two Jewish synagogues, one on Walnut Street and one on Fourth
Street, the Williams School, the Universalist Church and the Polish
Church on Chestnut Street, and was headed straight for Broadway.
The Universalist Church caught first in the steeple, as did most of the
churches. It burned very slowly, but finally the great golden cross
fell with a crash into Fourth Street. After this the pastor, Rev. R.
Perry Bush, went in by a back way and up into the pulpit to take a last
look at the familiar scene which was so dear to him. In a lecture which
he afterwards gave he described his feelings very dramatically, and
said that he stood in the pulpit until the church was filled with smoke
and the flames broke through the big stained glass window, then saying,
“Good-by, dear old church,” he went as he came.
The deacons had saved the communion service and had loaded a team with
other church property, including valuable books and documents. On top
of these they piled many pew cushions,--a fatal error. To quote Dr.
Bush, “Do not ever try to save cushions under such conditions; if we
hadn’t tried to, we would have our books and papers to-day.” The
cushions caught fire before they had been taken two blocks and were
instrumental in setting fire to several wooden houses in the vicinity
of Chestnut Street and Washington Avenue.
Chestnut Street was, until a few years ago, one of the best streets
in the city, and parts of it were still considered very nice. Among
the prominent people still living on the street was Dr. J. B. Fenwick,
whose wife lost her life in the fire, together with her niece, Mrs.
Walter C. Barnes, of New York, and Elvina Boyn, Mrs. Fenwick’s maid.
Mrs. Fenwick was prominent in Chelsea, being a member of the School
Board and an active member of the Woman’s Club.
It is not known how the women met their death, but it is believed they
left the house by the rear door, as the street in front was thick with
smoke and flying fire brands. They may have first turned up Cherry
Street, a narrow street which ran past the rear of their house, and
been stopped by the falling tower of the Polish Church. This would
have caused them to return towards Fourth Street. At about this time
Granite Block on Broadway, directly back of which their bodies were
found, was dynamited in an attempt to stop the conflagration, and the
women probably took shelter in the porch of the building where their
bodies were found, and were overcome by smoke.
[Illustration: GRANITE BLOCK, DYNAMITED DURING THE FIRE]
Dr. George Fenwick, the son, has told friends that the last he saw
of them was on the second floor of his home. As he was going to his
room on the third floor Mrs. Barnes stopped him and handed him a wet
towel to put over his face. The house had not yet caught fire, but
the windows were cracked and broken by the heat from the fires across
the street, and the building was full of smoke. He says he was not in
his room over five minutes collecting his valuables. When he returned
downstairs the women had left, and after making sure of this fact
he made a dash down the street to the fire lines. Here he met his
father, who had previously gone out with things of value and was not
allowed to return. As the women left before young Dr. Fenwick, both men
supposed them safe, and getting out their automobile, which was at a
garage, helped others save property. The bodies were not found for four
days.
On Chestnut Street, not far from the Fenwicks, lived Miss Ellen
M. Stone, the missionary, who a few years before was captured by
Macedonian brigands and held for a large ransom. People from all over
this country contributed. Her home was filled with priceless souvenirs
and a great many valuable books. Miss Stone was away from home over
Sunday, and her servants had been given a holiday. Her brother, knowing
that she was out of town, secured a horse and express wagon and drove
to the house to save whatever might be possible. The doors, of course,
were locked, and while he was battering one in the structure caught
fire. When the door finally yielded the interior was all ablaze, and
Mr. Stone had to flee without saving a thing.
Captain Frederick M. Whiting of the Eleventh Company, Coast Artillery
Corps, also lived on Chestnut Street. When his company was ordered out,
he went with it. When the fire reached his home, his brother gathered
some valuables into a trunk and removed them to the Armory for safe
keeping, but later the Armory burned and they were lost.
Dr. J. M. Putnam was another resident of Chestnut Street, and was
fortunate enough to save a few things with the aid of his son, Dr.
Ralph Putnam, who came over from Winchester.