{image1}On Oct. 8, 1871, the world, or at least the Midwest, seemed ablaze. Of course, the Chicago Fire is the best-known blaze of that day, but in Peshtigo another deadly fire on the same day will never be forgotten.
Peshtigo and an estimated 500 residents were destroyed in the fire. It will always be known as the Peshtigo Fire, but it actually consumed an estimated 1.5 million acres or 2,400 square miles in northeast Wisconsin and Upper Michigan. Well over 1,000 people were killed.
A "tornado of fire" even jumped Green Bay and destroyed the small town of Williamsville in Door County.
Local newspapers ran headlines like, "Holocaust of Flame," "Peshtigo Annihilated," and "Whole Families Burned to Death."
The horror of the fire might best be told by some excerpts from the Oct. 9 Marinette Eagle:
"The fires which have been lurking in this vicinity for weeks have at last culminated in the holocaust of destruction. Last night the wind raised and blew fearfully from the south. The swamp lying back of Dr. Hall's became ignited, and the flames spread through it with inconceivable rapidity.
The fire was about three fourths of a mile distant from Marinette, and shooting above the tallest treetops, lit up the whole country with a fierce lurid glare. The fire fiend was holding high carnival having selected the towns of Peshtigo, Marinette and Menekaune as its prey. Every available force that could be brought to bear, to stay the force of the fire was brought into requisition.
"Standing out on the Peshtigo road, we were a witness to the awful scene. The fire swept through the swamp and destroyed several out buildings in the rest of the Boom Co.'s place and Dr. Hall's together with a large barn containing nearly 100 tons of hay. The hay was the property of Mr. Bentley of Marinette. At this time the direction of the wind changed rapidly blowing from several points of the compass alternately. First from the southwest, then from the west, then from the northwest, then back again to the south, during which time we were visited by a series of whirlwinds which showered cinders and sparks in every conceivable direction. The fire having partly spent its fury here, cries of distress were heard down the river in the direction of the mouth. Steam whistles of the mills and tugs in the harbor blew the first alarm, and every man that could be spared went to the scene of disaster. From the rear of J. S. Dickey's store in the direction of the Bay all was one broad lurid sheet of flame as far as the eye could reach.
"The streets were lined with men, women and children fleeing for their lives. Many of the families were engaged in making excavations in the sand and burying their household goods. Any quantity of goods was hauled over on to the Island. The sick were being removed to places of safety, and thus, with alternate hope and despair, the long, weary hours of the night wore away.
"The wind had at least settled to blowing steadily from the southwest, but still it blew with tremendous fury, and the flames in the swamp immediately in the rear of the town, raged with corresponding fearfulness."
{image2}An appeal for help to Madison found Gov. Lucius Fairchild and many of his top people gone to Chicago to help with the recovery from that fire. Fairchild's wife, Frances, commandeered some blankets and other supplies designated for Chicago and routed them to Peshtigo instead. The governor himself organized relief efforts once he learned of the Peshtigo disaster.
While Mrs. O'Leary's cow and a lantern have always been listed as the cause of the Chicago fire -- or at least made a good legend -- the cause of the Peshtigo Fire has never been as specific. In fact, perhaps "cause" should be listed as "causes."
The entire area had been in a prolonged drought and was hit by cyclonic winds in early October. Forestry and farming practices had not reached today's sophistication. Slash and burn methods to clear land made for rubble that was good tinder.
So was rubble left along the tracks of railroads. Some think sparks from a train might have started the fire.
There is the "impact theory" -- that a comet or meteor struck in the area and ignited the dry woods.
Today, a fire museum can be found in a former Catholic church in Peshtigo. Father Peter Pernin, who lost his church in the blaze, later penned one of the best survivor accounts of the disaster.
Next to the museum is a cemetery which contains many of those killed in the fire. One mass grave is said to include the remains of 350 victims.
The museum is open from Memorial Day through Oct. 8, a day on which the community holds a special memorial that includes a candlelight service. Admission to the museum is free, but donations are accepted.
Several books and articles have been written about the Peshtigo Fire. Perhaps the best web source is The Great Peshtigo Fire of 1871 at peshtigofire.info. The site, up since 1998, is maintained by Deana Hipke, who grew up in Peshtigo and is interested in genealogy.
