LONGLISTED FOR THE ANDREW CARNEGIE MEDAL FOR EXCELLENCE • The "illuminating" ( New Yorker ) story of the Great Chicago a raging inferno, a harrowing fight for survival, and the struggle for the soul of a city—told with the "the clarity—and tension—of a well-wrought military narrative" ( Wall Street Journal )
In the fall of 1871, Chicagoans knew they were due for the “big one”—a massive, uncontrollable fire that would decimate the city. It had been bone-dry for months, and a recent string of blazes had nearly outstripped the fire department’s already scant resources. Then, on October 8, a minor fire broke out in the barn of Irishwoman Kate Leary. A series of unfortunate mishaps and misunderstandings along with insufficient preparation and a high south-westerly wind combined to set the stage for an unmitigated catastrophe. The conflagration that spread from the Learys' property quickly overtook the neighborhood, and before long the floating embers had been cast to the far reaches of the city. Nothing to the northeast was safe. Families took to the streets with every possession they could carry. Powerful gusts whipped the flames into a terrifying firestorm. The Chicago River boiled. Over the next forty-eight hours, Chicago fell victim to the largest and most destructive natural disaster the United States had yet endured. The effects of the Great Fire were devastating. But they were also transforming. Out of the ashes, faster than seemed possible, rose new homes, tenements, hotels, and civic buildings, as well as a new political order. The elite seized the reconstruction to crack down on vice, control the disbursement of vast charitable funds, and rebuild the city in their image. But the city’s working class recognized only a naked power grab that would challenge their traditions, hurt their chances to keep their hard-earned property, and move power out of the hands of elected officials and into private interests. As soon as the battle against the fire ended, another battle for the future of the city erupted between its entrenched business establishment and its poor and immigrant laborers and shopkeepers. An enrapturing account of the fire’s inexorable march and an eye-opening look at its aftermath, The Burning of the World tells the story of one of the most infamous calamities in history and the new Chicago it precipitated—a disaster that still shapes American cities to this day.
Born and raised in the Twin Cities, SCOTT W. BERG holds a BA in architecture from the University of Minnesota, an MA from Miami University of Ohio, and an MFA in creative writing from George Mason University, where he now teaches nonfiction writing and literature. He is a regular contributor to The Washington Post.
Some events are so big that it's rare to find someone who doesn't know about it. The Great Chicago Fire is one of those events. Everyone knows the story. Mrs. O'Leary's cow kicked over a lantern. Or was it "Peg Leg" Sullivan? (Oh, and her name wasn't even O'Leary.) Big events can be mangled and misunderstood almost as soon as they happen. Their repercussions can be even further controversial. Into this epic period of history steps Scott Berg and his book, "The Burning of the World."
Berg takes a look at the fire, the response, and then the political climate the fire created. The fire takes up about the first third of the book and it is exceptional. Berg is able to chronicle the disaster without getting too lost in the details and keeps the narrative kinetic throughout. I absolutely loved this portion and the stories of how the fire quickly overwhelmed the fire department. The other two thirds of the book look at the aftermath and the politics after the fire. While this section is interesting in its own right, it lacks the urgency of the fire narrative and feels like it jumps around from things like Sunday drinking laws and union strikes. Berg does connect these things, but they just do not feel as compelling as the fire itself. That said, the whole book is worth a read and even the slower parts still contain a lot to like.
(This book was provided as an advance copy by Netgalley and Knopf, Pantheon, Vintage, and Anchor Books.)
I hate doing this but I'm giving "The Burning of the World" a DNF. It took me about a month to read 40 pages - almost a page a day. Somehow I thought a book about the Chicago Fire might be interesting. Sorry. Enough time wasted. Time to move on. This one just didn't catch fire with me.
The Burning of the World is a nonfiction book about the Great Chicago Fire in 1871. Despite living in Illinois for most of my life, I honestly didn't know much about the fire other than Mrs. Leary and her cow were the scapegoats. After reading this book it's apparent there were many contributing factors, a perfect storm so to speak and the poor woman didn't deserve all the scorn and ridicule which was fueled by tabloidesque journalism. Chicago was experiencing a severe drought at the time. Many of the city's structures as well as some roads and sidewalks were made with wood. Throw in a lack of manpower, faulty firefighting equipment and miscommunication, and unfortunately it's not hard to comprehend why the blaze got out of hand so quickly.
The official estimate is 300 people died due to the fire although it's assumed the number is higher given 17000 structures were destroyed. The book goes into detail about the aftermath and the rebuilding effort. For the most part the writing held my interest but in some spots, particularly anything political in nature, I wasn't quite as engaged. All in all though, it's a good read if you like learning about the history of Chicago.
Thank you Pantheon for sending me a copy! All thoughts expressed are my honest opinion.
I have to admit I picked this up and put it down at the bookstore a few times. Reviews make it seem like it’s pretty dense but it’s quite readable.
The book tells the story of the great Chicago Fire. The first part of the book is well paced and has the readability of The Devil in the White City. The second half deals with the after effects and the politics of deciding the future of Chicago. At 400 pages, it probably could have been trimmed a bit.
That said I did enjoy the whole story. The set up of a Fire that seemed like it would have inevitably happened. The way those who were quick to react would make decisions that would set them up well for the future.
Then of course how the fire’s legend inevitably leads to the story of Mrs O Leary’s cow becoming the tale. The push and pull of blame that falls on the poor and immigrants of the city.
Immediately after the Fire, there is apolitical sentiment but the honeymoon is brief. While that story won’t interest everyone, I found it interesting and it offers a natural denouement.
I am glad I ended up picking this book. I really enjoyed it. Certainly, Chicagoans (or Chicagoans at heart) interested in city history would enjoy it, and while it doesn’t have the serial killer pull of Devil/White City, if you liked that book’s history of Chicago who will likely like this.
A very detailed - at times - too detailed account of the Great Chicago Fire and its aftermath. This reader appreciated the mini-bios of the many players involved, machinations of the newspaper publishing world, Boss Tweed and baseball - on the other hand, the itinerary of the Russian arch-duke’s US visit or the street by street, shop by shop route a protesting crowd took through the city - not so much.
What I found fascinating, but not surprising - this was Chicago after all - was the power play - capital vs labor, private vs public authority - that ensued literally within hours after the fire ran its course.
Last but not least our valiant fourth estate once again not managing this crisis very honorably. Even as newspaper owners were scheming to “get the news out” while their printing presses burned - their reporters and editors were supplying sheer garbage to be printed - starting with the source of the fire - Mrs (O’) Leary’s cow. The validity/truth of the reports filed irrelevant as long as the paper sold.
I’ve not read another book focused on the Great Fire so I welcomed this addition and I learned a lot. I just wish the detail at times was somewhat less exhaustive/exhausting.
Take whatever you THINK you know about the Great Fire and throw it ALL out the window [the way the past and present continue to vilify Mrs. Leary is absolutely criminal!!] and then do the deep dive into this fantastic book about the fire itself [and that part of the book alone will blow your mind] and then what it took to rebuild the city and the people that fought for the correct way to do it [with all the good AND bad that comes with that kind of work] and even though there are points where this delves into the more tedious, for the most part, this engaged me from page one and left me amazed [and often wondering just how ANYTHING got rebuilt], sad, and gobsmacked, often all at the same time.
If you have ever wanted to learn about that time in history, I highly recommend this book [and the excellent audiobook]. Very well done.
Thank you to NetGalley, Scott W. Berg, and Knopf, Pantheon, Vintage, and Anchor for providing this ARC in exchange for an honest review.
The Great Chicago Fire of 1871 began when a lantern was knocked over, setting a barn and shed alight. The fire spread rapidly throughout the city, as the buildings were mostly constructed of wood with extremely flammable tar roofing. Other factors were strong winds and a drought season. The water system was also inadequate and was destroyed quickly. At the time of this fire, there were only 17 horse drawn fire pumps and 185 firemen to handle the entire city of Chicago. The fire burned from October 08 to October 10, burning over 2,000 acres. Around 17, 500 buildings and structures were completely burned. Approximately 300 people died during this disaster. Almost 30% of the surviving population found themselves homeless after the fire.
I found this book to be extremely interesting. I grew up in a fire family, so I am always interested in fire content. I have had this book for some time. I am glad that I got around to reading it. I had some basic knowledge of this disaster, but this book filled in a lot of missing details for me. I also learned after I finished this book that there are several structures that you can see today that existed before the fire and somehow managed to survive. I would love to take a tour of Chicago and see these and other historical sites. This was a pretty good book.
A great book that brings to life the circumstances that lead to the Great Chicago Fire. I enjoyed learning about the politics and people who lived at that time including characters for whom streets have been named (Ogden and Sheridan) and those who rebuilt this great city. The young and dapper Marshall Field, Potter and Bertha Palmer, and the infamous Joseph Medil, who served for a short time as Mayor, are a few familiar names who left an indelible mark on the city we know today. It was fun to read about a very young Louis Sullivan and discover those he trained and the influence they had on the design of the world class city we know as Chicago. It’s long, but it’s worth it!
I enjoyed this book until the halfway point and then the book took a turn and went in depth at the post fire politics. I can say I know more about the Chicago fire and rebuilding the city physically and politically than I could ever imagine!
The detail and descriptions of the event were fantastic. The lead-up was masterful and the aftermath, comprising the bulk of this work, was enlightening. The author provides a LOT of insight into the politics that were shaped by the Great Chicago Fire. Highly recommended for those readers interested in post-civil war America and Chicago history.
This book about the great Chicago fire is a narrative history of the event. The author clearly did many hours of research and thanked the individuals and locations that helped him. I do think this would have been a better experience with a print book rather than the digital so I could look at the endnotes. Nothing was cited so it made me question full conversations. In any case a very interesting topic. Thank you NetGalley!
Berg's well-researched book, strong on organization and fact, is an excellent read for any aficionado of Chicago. Supplemented with many maps showing the progression of the fire, this book is as much about the aftermath as the fire itself. The seeds of corruption (which still plague Chicago politics) were out in full force at the time. The most egregious examples are the Relief and Aid Society, which apparently did neither, and the wealthy businessmen who tried everything in their power to suppress the growth and voice of the immigrant population. (Happily, they were unsuccessful and were often hoisted by their own petard.) One particularly interesting point was Joseph Medill, publisher of the conservative Tribune newspaper (which has remained so.) His unsuccessful term as mayor shows based his contradictions. For instance, he was a teetotaler, but defended the rights of saloon keepers to stay open on Sundays. He was virulently anti-immigrant, (especially the Catholics), yet he hired the first Black firemen and set up an all-Black firehouse in the city. While the Great Fire of 1871 is folklore and common knowledge to any Chicagoan, I didn't realize that there were subsequent fires shortly afterward which also caused great damage and changed the landscape of the city. This is definitely an educational book and also one of inspiration (particularly how the working class overcame the absolute power of the idle rich.)
I found "The Burning of the World" by Scott Berg to be an absolutely fascinating account of the Great Chicago Fire. Less so, the actual event itself but rather the impressive scholarship and keen insights the author provides in the months after the event. The social, political and economic ramifications of the terrible tragedy were depicted with great depth. It is a solid book, heavily researched and written in a somewhat dry tone. But as a Chicago inhabitant for the past 30 years, I found it absolutely fascinating.
Excellent read about the true story of the Great Chicago Fire (that is completely different from the mythology of it, everything I'd heard visiting the city as a kid) and how it shaped the city's identity and its destiny moving forward. Berg is a master storyteller, with vivid imagery making everything feel real and palpable, and weaving together the fire and all its political and cultural results into a cohesive, gripping narrative. The theme of fire as transformation is expertly woven throughout. A must-read for any Chicagoboo like myself!
Chicago was a tinderbox. In 1871, the city was packed with wood-frame houses, wooden sidewalks, and hay-filled barns, nestled alongside lumber processing mills, paper factories, wood-frame churches, and saloons. Thirty-four years since its municipal incorporation, Chicago was now home to over 300,000 people, roughly half of them immigrants who journeyed to the city seeking work in its booming lumber and construction industries. Given the limited means that immigrants came with, they often resided in these densely packed neighborhoods. Between October 2 and October 7 alone, the fire department had been dispatched to twenty-eight fires, and the frequency of fires made fire-watching a local spectator sport. Each time the Cook County Courthouse bell rang to alert the fire department of the fire’s location, firefighters would show up and find not just a blaze, but a crowd of onlookers taking in the scene, cheering on the action, and occasionally picking up a hose if the department needed an extra hand. Regularity can make even the most visceral, violent events feel deceptively familiar, and this was the case with fires in Chicago.
But the fire that began in Kate O’Leary’s barn on the night of October 7 was different. As Scott W. Berg narrates in The Burning of the World: The Great Chicago Fire and the War for a City’s Soul, a blend of fire department fatigue from a massive fire just the night before, faulty location alerts, relentless winds, and, of course, all of the wood, created a roaring fire that moved quickly. Beginning on 137 W DeKoven Street—halfway between the neighborhoods known today as South Loop and Little Italy—the fire jumped east over the south branch of the Chicago River, crawled up the city, jumped the north branch of the river, and ultimately burned an area approximately four miles long before fizzling out the next day. Berg follows the blaze in cinematic detail, weaving first-person accounts of the fire, with a history of the city and its notable personalities based on the fire’s path. But despite the wreckage, as Berg demonstrates, the greatest struggle that emerged from the Great Chicago Fire was not that of physically rebuilding the city. Rather, the political battle between the city’s elites and working classes, and the ultimate question of who the city is supposed to serve would be the greatest legacy the fire left behind.
Before the fire, Chicago was a neoliberal’s dream. Most municipal decisions were made by and for a handful of industry tycoons who felt little responsibility to the workers and residents of the city; they cared more about “Chicago” as a brand that could attract investment capital from east coast banks. Cheap labor was widely available and unregulated, and the government provided few social or civic services. Yet, the city’s fast-paced growth attracted workers from far and wide who, despite cutthroat working conditions, were eager for opportunity and took their fortunes into their own hands. But the scale of the devastation now facing its residents ushered in an opportunity to rethink the social contract that governed the city.
News of the fire spread quickly, and donations from other cities all around the country began pouring in. In response, Charles C.P. Holden, president of the Chicago Common Council, directed a city-run centralized collection and distribution center to pass out food, clothing, and other supplies to residents who’d lost everything in their fire. Holden’s initiative was the first semblance of a vision of government that saw responding to its residents’ material needs in times of distress as one of its primary responsibilities. And just one day after its formation, a coalition of wealthy industrialists and business owners tried to stop it, wrestle away the donations, and take control over deciding which residents were “worthy” of receiving help.
This cycle continued in the months and years following the fire. As the city’s working and immigrant classes began to rebuild their lives, they became more aware of how their misfortunes were being exploited by the wealthy; and as the wealthy became aware of the scope of the destruction and its impact on their ability to attract investment capital, they mobilized to create a new political party and pass legislation to consolidate power in the mayor they elected, and to use the newspapers—which many of them owned—to put forth their vision of the city. But the elites’ policy agenda made their disdain for the immigrant and working classes particularly overt: proposed fire-limit policies would effectively price-out thousands of people from their homes, austerity measures and attacks on welfare were coupled with anti-immigrant rhetoric, and, as a tipping point of sorts, a temperance ordinance briefly passed which prohibited the sale of alcohol on Sundays—the one day that many workers had off from work, and when they’d gather at local saloons. Such measures made possible a new wave of political solidarity among various working-class immigrant groups never before seen in Chicago, followed up by political rallies, the storming of a city hall meeting, and mass-demonstrations in protest.
Burg’s account of the events following the Great Chicago Fire is not only a political and social history of the moment, but of a people deeply aware of the historical moment they were living in and how they tried to bend it in their favor. The question of how history is made and whose history survives underlies the book. Newspapers were owned by powerful men like Joseph Medill, the majority owner and editor-in-chief of the Chicago Tribune, who also served as the city’s mayor in the years following the fire. Hence, newspapers were often vehicles and platforms for the powerful to espouse their views unfiltered. Burg relies heavily on newspaper archives, but also makes plain the biases and political agendas they came with. While the city’s poor and immigrant classes weren’t afforded the same platforms to articulate their perspectives and experiences, their political demonstrations offer insight into their struggles and what they were fighting for. Burg’s history shines light on the narratives floating around after the fire, and the corresponding political visions those narratives were designed to support. The question of who speaks for Chicago, whose voice gets heard, and whose voices are recognized by the government characterized the essential struggle during this time.
In addition to the political history, Burg also brings in figures whose names are still recognizable in Chicago today, such as the retail magnate Marshall Field, real-estate and hospitality mogul Palmer Potter (whose Palmer House hotel is still operating in the city), and William Ogden, the first mayor of Chicago, among many others. He also devotes space to the story of Kate O’Leary, in whose barn the fire started, and how a myth around her formed and traveled throughout the city. In all, The Burning of the World is a vivid, character driven history that illuminates the political machinations of the time, along with the spirit and culture of the city and how it viewed itself in this era. Ultimately, the Chicago that emerged from the Great Fire of 1871 was a fundamentally different city than before. The clashing views of the future of Chicago—and the political demonstrations of people willing to fight for the city they believed in—gave rise to a Chicago of ground-up multi-ethnic coalitions. As Berg writes, “Chicago went from a frontier outpost in which a small group of men made a lot of money while making most of the decisions, to, two years later, a hothouse of populist democracy, a locus of political power and ambition for a much wider swath of the citizenry than had ever been imagined before. In this manner [...] Chicago became a modern American city.”
A historical examination of the Great Chicago Fire with interesting details of the political and economic players who guided the city through this calamity and the subsequent growth of the city..
The prologue and the first few chapters were incredibly captivating. Unfortunately, a majority of the book, which dealt with the aftermath of the great Chicago fire, were not so much. I’ll give Berg credit that this is a very comprehensive account of the fire, the city’s demographics, the rebuilding efforts, and the political situation, but I felt the politics were too prevalent. Yes, politics were a major factor that shaped the city post-fire, but the political bickering became tedious and I was tired of reading how the Temperence movement tried to piggyback on the fire-proof legislation.
Otherwise, there were some redeeming qualities and great historical morsels. Because of the industrial revolution, Chicago was the benefactor of worldwide aide: “Less than twenty-for hours had passed since the Leary’s barn had caught fire, but already the entire wired world knew what had happened, as far away as England, Russia, and India. The newly interconnected planet was a marvel, and the conflagration in Chicago was one of the earliest tests of its speed, efficiency, and scope. The telegraph and train weren’t new inventions, but the nationwide networks that tied them together were.”
And speaking of Leary’s barn as the source of the fire, there was no evidence that their cow knocked over a lantern to start the fire. The poor woman would have to endure, “…the rapid and irreversible transformation of Kate Lary into Catherine O’Leary, from curiosity to legend, fact into myth, ordinary citizen into eternal scapegoat and pariah.”
The fire would transform Chicago in innumerable ways. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, “The newest pastime of the city’s residents… was to propose how Chicago might best use the fresh start it had been granted. What might the city do differently, do better, more wisely, more efficiently in this second incarnation, this unanticipated rebirth?” I appreciated how names like Marshall Fields had roles in getting the city up and running again, but there was not a whole lot of narrative about the actual rebuilding itself. The focus of the political machinations did not hold my interest.
I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher.
The Burning of the World: The Chicago Fire and the Eternal American Rebuild
History, like the cities it chronicles, is built upon ruins. And in America, a nation with an enduring fondness for both unchecked ambition and spectacular disaster, few ruins loom as large as those left in the wake of the Great Chicago Fire of 1871.
Scott Berg’s The Burning of the World: Chicago Fire is a meticulously researched and vividly told account of that conflagration—not merely a history of destruction, but a meditation on the forces that shaped one of America’s greatest cities. It is a story of grand aspirations and architectural hubris, of human folly and natural inevitability, of a city that, in the great American tradition, was scarcely finished before it had to be rebuilt.
One suspects that Berg, an accomplished historian of American ambition, understands that his subject is not merely fire, nor even Chicago itself, but something more fundamental: the peculiar resilience—and, at times, the almost pathological overconfidence—of the American character. A City Built for Fire
Chicago in 1871 was a city engaged in a game of architectural brinkmanship with nature. It had grown from a muddy frontier outpost to a booming metropolis in the space of mere decades, a feat accomplished largely by the industrial miracle of wood. The city was, quite literally, flammable by design. Wooden homes, wooden sidewalks, wooden bridges, wooden factories—Chicago was less an urban landscape than a well-organized lumberyard waiting for a match.
Berg paints a portrait of a city whose ambition far outpaced its infrastructure. Fire codes were, at best, a polite suggestion. The fire department, though admirably determined, was overwhelmed even before the great blaze began. And the political class, in a foreshadowing of American governance to come, was too busy debating minor ordinances to recognize that they had built a metropolis atop a bonfire. The Fire That Made Chicago
The fire itself, which began on October 8, 1871, is described by Berg with both journalistic precision and literary verve. It is a spectacle of destruction, a scene so apocalyptic that it borders on the surreal: flames that leapt across the river as though mocking the city’s illusions of containment; firestorms so intense they created their own wind patterns; buildings that crumbled before terrified onlookers could even register that they had ignited.
And then, of course, there is the infamous cow.
No recounting of the Great Chicago Fire would be complete without mention of Mrs. O’Leary’s alleged bovine arsonist, a story so enduringly absurd that it has outlived any real concern for its accuracy. Berg, to his credit, treats this particular myth with the skepticism it deserves, noting that while Mrs. O’Leary’s cow has long been blamed for kicking over a lantern and incinerating the city, the real culprit was, as always, a combination of human negligence, bad luck, and a civic infrastructure held together by little more than wishful thinking. Aftermath: A Test of the American Will (and Wallet)
If Berg’s book were merely an account of destruction, it would be an engaging but ultimately grim narrative. But where The Burning of the World excels is in its examination of what came next: the astonishing, almost reckless speed with which Chicago resolved to rise from its own ashes.
Within days, relief efforts were underway. Within weeks, rebuilding had begun. And within a few years, Chicago had not merely recovered but had become a symbol of American resilience, a city that saw its own near-annihilation as little more than an opportunity for an upgrade. The Great Fire was not merely a catastrophe; it was, in a way, a second birth.
Berg captures the paradox of this moment well: the same blind optimism that allowed Chicago to become a firetrap in the first place was the very quality that allowed it to transform itself into the steel-and-glass giant of the modern age. The fire had, quite unintentionally, cleared the way for the city’s architects and industrialists to reimagine it entirely.
Thus, out of destruction came innovation. Out of chaos came order. And out of disaster came, naturally, the insurance industry’s greatest nightmare. Berg’s Strengths—and a Few Flames Left Unchecked
Berg is a gifted historian with an eye for narrative, and The Burning of the World is at its best when he allows the story to breathe—when he lingers on the human details, the firsthand accounts of panicked citizens fleeing an inferno that seemed to chase them with sentient malice, the political opportunism that flourished in the wake of crisis, the sheer audacity of those who looked upon a smoldering wasteland and saw only future skyscrapers.
However, like any historian tasked with chronicling a well-trodden event, Berg occasionally succumbs to the temptation of over-explanation. There are moments when his desire to contextualize—while admirable—slows the narrative’s momentum. Do we need quite so much detail on every minor political squabble that preceded the fire? Perhaps not. But then, history is shaped as much by bureaucratic inertia as by raging infernos, and Berg, to his credit, understands that disasters rarely occur in isolation. Final Verdict: A Masterful Study of American Destruction and Reinvention
In The Burning of the World, Scott Berg has given us more than a history of a fire. He has given us a study in ambition, folly, and the uniquely American belief that no setback—no matter how cataclysmic—is ever final.
It is a book that reminds us that disasters, while inevitable, are not merely events to be suffered but moments that reveal the character of a people. Chicago burned, but it did not end. Instead, it became something greater than before—a city forged in flame, tempered by disaster, and ultimately defined not by what it lost, but by what it built in response.
As such, The Burning of the World is not just a history of Chicago. It is, in many ways, a history of America itself.
Because if there is one thing Americans do well, it is rebuilding after catastrophe—preferably with bigger buildings, fewer regulations, and an unwavering confidence that this time, nothing will go wrong. Final Thought: A Lesson from the Ashes
Berg’s book leaves us with an unavoidable question: Have we learned anything?
The Great Chicago Fire was, in many ways, a cautionary tale—about the dangers of unchecked growth, the folly of ignoring infrastructure, and the arrogance of assuming that disaster is always someone else’s problem.
And yet, looking around at modern cities built in flood zones, on fault lines, or in the paths of annual hurricanes, one suspects that our confidence in permanence remains as misplaced as ever.
Because if history teaches us anything, it is that the next great fire is always waiting.
And when it comes, there will always be those ready to rebuild—this time, of course, with even bigger skyscrapers.
I was expecting to see intense debate over rebuilding the heart of the city. Instead, I read a watered down version of what happened. And yet, somehow, he dragged on for nearly 400 pages. It starts off strong with a very good description of the fire and how people responded to the fire. The crisis was followed by political infighting over relief and strong words about never again experiencing such a crisis....but like many other panics, the final result was more of a whimper rather than a roar.
The entire book reads like an edited version of newsprint from October 1871 through April 1872 when it slowly winds down (or Berg is more actively skimming the microfilm rather than reading it). The drama slowly turns to the political machinations of a select few people, particularly the reform mayor Joseph Medill.
Berg is trying to make the story more sensational than it is. He questioned the origin story of Mrs. O'Leary milking her cow at night when the cow kicked over a lamp triggering the blaze. From that investigation he realized that he could create an adventure story of people running from the fire or combating the fire. His early chapters on the fire itself are excellent. His chapter covering the investigation into the origins of the fire is excellent (and provides the true crux of the book). His attempt to create heroes and villains out of General Sheridan, Mayor Medill, Alderman Holden, Lawyer Wirt Dexter, and Businessman Montgomery Ward. The political power struggles between them was complex and Berg tried to simplify it.
The community reeling from catastrophe, elected Medill as a reform mayor. He was the publisher of the Tribune and not active in politics besides funding and what was published in his paper. He had a large coalition with a simple platform of providing relief and building a fireproof city. Berg portrays him as being altruistic and definitely a hero fighting against greedy rivals, especially Dexter. As relief got underway and reconstruction boomed, the collective shock wore off and more and more people lost faith in Medill. Berg fixates on several things that happened during his mayoralty - conflict over soup kitchens, Sunday blue laws, and fire prevention. In the first two, Medill, he argues, sought a middle ground compromise. The latter was his primary focus. All three conspired against him. This is not the battle for the soul of Chicago. However, Berg brilliantly summed up the situation in a latter chapter. "It was one thing for them to face a great fire - an identifiable and well-known, if arbitrary, menace. It was another thing altogether to try to understand why their jobs could drift away because a bank in New York had collapsed," (p. 363).
In a way Berg may have been trying to connect the political environment with 1871-1873 Chicago with future crises, such as the Great Depression, the Great Recession, and the COVID Lockdown. He does not directly state it. Readers can probably make those connections on their own. The knee-jerk reaction to fix the underlying causes of a faulty system with grandiose promises and at little or no cost are common. The fixes are steadily eroded until they are removed altogether. In the case of Mayor Medill, some of the fireproofing that he desperately sought to impose on Chicago was finally brought to bear by law less than a decade after his departure.
Overall, the book tries to cover too much. It is adventure, courtroom drama, dull political theater, good vs. evil, democracy vs tyranny, and simply documentary. The writing style varies from chapter to chapter. What will the author fixate upon? How will he describe events? It is mostly unknown. Some chapters seem to be tangential at best to the subject matter. Perhaps he was writing the book while browsing the microfilm. It is informative, but Berg's attempt to make it more novel-like undermined the reality and oversimplified very complex structures.
The book delivers what the title promises: a graphic account of the Great Chicago Fire of 1871—and the struggle afterward to rebuild the city. The book has two major topics. The first is a story of a fire. The second is the story of the political struggle to determine the city’s future after the fire.
First—the fire itself. The book asserts—as do all honest historians—that the fire did NOT start because a cow kicked over a lantern while being milked by a stupid, ugly, old woman—Mrs. O’Leary. Kate O’Leary was a young Irish immigrant, hard-working, smart, pleasant, mother of several children, who was in bed when the first started—5 hours after she had finished milking the cows that helped provide a living for her family. The fire did start in her barn—but probably because of men in the neighborhood smoking in there. Kate’s life and livelihood were destroyed—not by the fire—but by the story that spread. When 100,000 people are left homeless, when 30,000 buildings explode or are burned, and when hundreds of people die—some people’s minds cannot handle that the cause was a stupid as a couple kids smoking. And so a villain is fabricated. Berg tells that story.
Berg also tells the story of how it had not rained in Chicago for over three months—between July 4 and October 8. Everything was bone dry. Most of structures in the city of 300,000 were made of wood—and in the immigrant sections of the city—abutting each other with no space between. The city was filled with lumber yards, grain elevators, and plants where oil was refined for heating and lighting. He tells the story of heavy winds the night of the fire. And he tells how the “fire spotters” got the location wrong and sent an already exhausted fire department to the wrong address.
Berg tells how heat effects both buildings and the air currents around them. Buildings blow apart, sending flaming boards 500 feet high. The wind catches them and the fire jumps the south branch of the Chicago River, then the main branch. Burning embers land on “fireproof”’ buildings, melt the roofs and fall inside. The buildings explode outward—stone, brick, and all.
It is said that 300 people died in the fire. But that is probably as much of a lie as the story of Mrs. O’Leary’s cow. The city tried to underplay the death count—to keep people from getting depressed. Bodies were burned beyond recognition. 50,000 people fled the week afterward—with no sure accounting of who died. Truth was hard to discover; numbers and fake news easy to fabricate.
There are many books that give an account of the Great Fire. Berg’s is worthy of the best.
The second part of Berg’s story is the political tussle that followed the fire. Joseph Medill, editor of the Chicago Tribune, was elected mayor right afterward. He was more a writer, lecturer, and theorist than a political operative. Before his two-year term was over, he would quit the city, turn things over to an interim mayor, and flee to Europe.
As the rebuilding began—the very next day—the question was whether it would be rebuilt to the advantage of those who owned everything and had massive wealth—or to the advantage of the working class people—mostly living week to week, mostly immigrants. The political fight that ensued re-shaped Chicago politics in ways that are relevant to today.
Had the “lions” of Chicago society and politics had their way—the working classes would have been squeezed out of the city, economically and socially by laws and new fire codes. But the masses that labored to rebuild the city also found their voice in Chicago politics. And to this day, we see the struggles between people of money and people of the laboring classes.
Berg’s book is an important contribution to both the story of the fire—and the story of how people struggle against one another to shape the direction of the city.
3.5 stars rounded up for the research, graphics and detail. This also had the best politico context and maps for several situations (both during/ after 1871 and also latter fires)- that I have seen. And I have seen what is in Regenstein (U. of Chicago).
But it was not easy to read- it is text book accuracy and pace. But also with so many name drops and situational momentary or month long at a time stances- hard to digest. 100's of characters and yet you did get the blame games and other nuances of both short and long term. Some in court case judgments. Mrs. O'Leary was the typical scrape goat.
What is best about this telling is the approaching and true relevance (example times 100's) of the energy and general mania of that time period in Chicago. And also much later- well into the 1960's at least. Not entirely gone now but so much reduced in the 21st century- that it is not the same core quantity or strength of/for conceptual direction. Dirty politics, corruption or directionless rhetoric of ever evolving blame games- it did go from to eternal "we can do" (populace and leaderships of all types) to vast areas of "we can take or grab" endlessly as a common core mantra. I call it the "be the least you can be" individual commodity held in vast Chicago areas now. Both visually and with intersecting conversations all around now for most any Chicago location practical outing or intersect.
Loved the photos and graphics quite beyond some of the generalizations which do not always surround them in the copy. And are just that, generalizations for what was then extremely small locales.
The energy and pure power of optimism and cutting through bs and bureaucracy to fulfill all the physical doing and the people who work process of such in Chicago still does exist. But not even in a one to ten ratio to what it was. The book does rather imply a similar path overall to that direction, but also has vast areas of void, IMHO. Like how the immense areas of decline occurred within great geographic realities during migrations in this and latter periods (which he covers somewhat for other factions) is not adequately (or even correctly) detailed by Berg.
Also I think the book did way too much on the politico cabals and people who left Chicago and should have done a bit more about fallout from the fire to latter excellence in 100 different forms. How it acted upon innovation instead of doing the opposite after disaster as it has elsewhere. (Like within architecture or myriad of industries such as candy or meat.)
It's hard to picture something like the Great Chicago fire... We hear about it growing up, we are taught in school about how big it was and the tale of how Mrs. O'Leary's cow kicked the lantern over and started it all. I don't think one can truly understand or respect the scale of what happened until you experience the heat of a fire so large and hot that it singes your skin from 30 yards away and you feel that wild sensation when a fire gets out of control and you have nothing to stop it with, add those two experiences together and times it by a a few thousand and I think we get a little bit close. What's most interesting about "The Burning of the World" is that the fire has essentially completed it's act in the first quarter of this book and the remainder is the complex aftermath. As a building official I know first hand that the amount of work involved in immediate aftermath is intense and exhausting, not to mention the rebuilding process. Once I had 16 families displaced from a fire and we were able to place them in a hotel for a couple nights. It practically wiped out all of our City's charity cash reserve in less than a week. Had to tell the folks to find other means of residence and that it would be a year before they could move back in... Imagine 100,000 people homeless and looking for a place to live. One of my greatest take aways from this book is to never underestimate the power of human greed. The coals were not even cold yet and the profit vultures were already positioning themselves for a way to grab control of donation funds and seize control of land and supply depots. Regardless of thoughts if you are thinking of reading this book be literally more prepared for "The War for a cities soul" than the actual fire itself.
We all know the story...Mrs. O'Leary's cow kicked over a lantern while she was milking it and that was the start of The Great Chicago fire. But is that what really happened??? First her name wasn't even O'Leary, but Leary. Second her neighbors could set their clocks by the times that she milked her cows and the fire started long after the milking was done for the day, and Mrs. Leary was actually in bed. Did the fire start in her barn? Nope!!!! It actually started in a shed next to the barn, but why and how it started will never really be known. At one point Mrs. Leary was even suspected of insurance fraud, but she had none on her barn or the cows that were destroyed in the fire. Another little-known fact of that time is that the area had had only 1 inch of rain from July to October and The Great Chicago fire was not the only fire to take place during that night. The Peshtigo fire was a large forest fire in Wisconsin that was even more devastating than the Chicago fire, killing 1,000 people and there were 4 more fires, in Michigan, on that day too. All of the fires were fed by a cold front that moved through and the winds fanned the flames. Finally, there were not enough firefighters to protect the city. Although the response was timely, they were sent to the wrong location due to an error by the watchman and the aftermath of the fire saw the local government pitted against the homeless citizens.
In The Burning of the World, Scott W Berg has written a thorough and intriguing account of the Great Chicago Fire that took place in 1871. This is such a significant moment in history that the vast majority of Americans have a vague knowledge of the event and can pinpoint the cause to Mrs. Leary's cow.
This book outlines all of the contributing factors which created the perfect situation for a horrible fire that would get out-of-control in moments. And despite the fact that Mrs. Leary and her cow were at the center of the story, they received an underserved amount of scorn and ridicule. Before the fire started Chicago had been suffering through a severe drought, creating a dry, brittle environment susceptible to any spark. The structures, roads and sidewalks wer all made of wood, the firefighting equipment was faulty... Combine all of these things with a lack of manpower and miscommunication between the players and you have all of the elements that lead to tragedy.
17,000 structures burned.
More than 300 people killed.
The fire was devastating to the city, and it looked to be nearly impossible to recover from. But the people there worked together, took advice from other places, and Chicago was revived from the flames.
I enjoyed this book a great deal. Thank you @PantheonBooks for my #gifted copy!
This history of the 1871 Great Fire of Chicago and its aftermath is superb, with vivid descriptions of some of the key players including newspaper proprietor Joseph Medill and pioneering retailer Marshall Field, and of the conflagration itself.
Berg debunks perhaps the greatest myth about the fire — that it was started by Kate Leary’s cow kicking over a lantern. Leary was a convenient scapegoat, vilified by the press and a public eager to blame someone.
In the post-fire chapters, Berg analyzes the tensions in the city, highlighting arguments about the building materials to be used in the reconstruction of the burned areas, how relief aid was to be distributed, the push to close the city’s saloons on Sundays, and the development of ward politics. He examines the divisions between Chicago’s elite, comprised mainly of transplanted Easterners, and the working class with its significant communities of immigrants from Ireland, Germany, and Sweden. Although these topics may sound like they make for dry reading, Berg’s prose is lively and animated, ensuring that I never lost interest.
The Burning of the World is a fascinating and intriguing dive into a pivotal period of Chicago history. Ultimately this is a story about control and who would determine Chicago’s future. Power — the fight for it and the exercise of it — always makes for good reading.
An excellent history of the events leading up to the Great Chicago Fire of 1871, as well as the efforts to rebuild that followed. The fire occurred because of a perfect storm, involving dry weather conditions, a city built almost entirely of wood, and an inadequate fire department. Efforts were made to rebuild the city, getting away from the wood construction, but this was fought by the working classes who saw it as a way to evict them from homeownership. And, as America typically does, no significant effort was made to bolster the fire department after the fire. The time following the fire was one of great social upheaval, with labor unions rising to prominence and immigrants demanding their place at the table. Yes, the fire did start in Mrs. Leary's barn, but the way she and her family were ostracized was shameful.
Berg starts by presenting a riveting and enlightening play-by-play account of the Great Chicago Fire of 1871. This is followed up in scholarly fashion with the subsequent transformational effect it had on Chicago politics, economics, architecture and social demographics.
While the second half is definitely not a page turner, it was nonetheless well researched and well written. Many notables of the era are included that were heretofore only names on streets, schools and buildings as far as I was concerned. Unnvarnished chronicles of the likes of Joseph Medill, Marshall Field, and Philip Sheridan were illuminating.
After living and working in Chicago for much of my adult life, I am pleased to be so well informed of this phase of the city's history. (Spoiler alert...Kate Leary and her cow get vindicated.)
The history of the great Chicago fire of 1871. Famously started in Kate Leary's barn-minus the cow milking and lantern- it raced through much of the city causing immense destruction. Berg captures this ably with the aid of street maps and a good eye for detail and personality. But the fire only covers the first 100 pages or so. The remainder of the book is on how the city rebuilt and in particular how Chicago city politics changed due to the fire becoming more class-based and taken out of the hands of business leaders. Berg has some very good chapters on local personalities and a funny one about the Cincinnati food kitchen that provided soup for Chicago's homeless. Berg also shows we needn't take any lessons in democracy from 1870s Chicago. The official inquiry in to the fire was a sham and the media of the time bungled the story of the fire's origins. A worthy read.
Having lived in Chicago for many years I of course knew of this fire and the 'story' of Mrs. O'Leary's cow that started it. So I was anxious to read this book to learn more about it. And was not disappointed. The research that the author conducted was amazing and the compilation of that research into this book offered the reader a clear if not lengthy explanation of the aftermath.
I hesitated giving this five stars because of the book's length but I stuck with five because it was well done. I could imagine the locations of the 1871 and subsequent fires, the buildings both then and now and the political machine that was created then and continues today. I love Chicago for all those, and more, reasons.
The Burning of the World is a comprehensive and exhaustive history on the great Chicago Fire that occurred in 1871.
I usually love reading natural disaster histories, and survival stories. However, this book was much more dry that even I am used to. Maybe even dry enough to start another fire! In all seriousness, the book is incredibly well written and researched it was just more a tome to weigh through than a historical narrative of a fascinating time in Chicagos history.
Booksellers this would be a great hand sell with books like The Wager.
This finished copy was provided by the publisher in exchange for a fair and honest review. Huge thanks to Pantheon for my copy.