In October 2013, I wrote a column about the Great Peshtigo Fire, which occurred on the same day as the more famous, but much smaller, Chicago Fire, Oct. 8, 1871. After reading that column, my cousin Lana Sutton, a retired Methodist minister, wrote to me. Here’s what she wrote:
“I don’t suppose you know that Mom, your Aunt Anna, wrote a paper on The Great Peshtigo Fire for a history class at Whitewater State University. Here is the ‘short’ story of my ancestors’ experience:
“My mother’s grandparents, the Seymour family, had a small homestead/farm between Peshtigo and Marinette. They all survived the fire except for the baby who died of smoke inhalation/lung problems 2-3 months after the fire. Mom’s grandfather hustled his family into the cave, which housed an artesian well dug into a hillside on the farm, the very same well that provided all their water. My great-grandmother grabbed the baby, pulled a big handful of sorry-looking carrots that had never matured, grabbed two chickens from the farmyard by their necks — wringing their necks by twirling them violently— and raced for the hillside cave as her older children ran ahead of her. Mr. Seymour grabbed his long wool Civil War Army coat and several woolen Army blankets and hollered for his older boys to bring empty milk pails from the barn. They all gathered in the hillside artesian cave with not much time to prepare.
“The fire raced rapidly over their farm, chasing wildlife ahead of it — raccoons, birds, deer, badgers, mink, squirrels, cows, and horses all ran, or flew or leaped, silently and swiftly trying to outrun the fast-moving conflagration. … The great wind that was kicked up by the fire preceded the actual flames and likely the people thought it was a tornado! What else traveled that fast with a ferocious wind? Not even the trains of their era were that speedy.
“Inside the cave which housed the well, my great-grandfather ordered his wife and children to lie down and he covered them with the blankets. He continued to wear his Army coat and a scarf tied around his beard and hair with his broad-billed Army hat on top of the scarf. He poured water over himself, actually jumping into the pond made by the wellspring, until he was thoroughly soaked. He constantly poured water onto the double layers of blankets that covered his family until the fire had roared over the farm and the hillside cave. He continued to keep the family under the wet blankets to protect them from the thick smoke that filled the air for a whole day and night, keeping his scarf and hat saturated as best he could for the purpose of breathing as little smoke as possible.
“They all had coughing problems for a long time, especially the baby. In spite of all the water poured upon them, each of the Seymour family had singed hair and red skin on their extremities (faces, fingers, and feet)
from the intense heat. Mr. Seymour’s beard was irregularly burned off in patches, and his forehead and cheeks were blistered as were his hands and fingers. Army boots protected his feet.
“The children ate the raw carrots throughout the ordeal, but the two adults went hungry — great-grandmother had been busy nursing her baby and watching the boys to keep them covered, while great-grandfather was constantly carrying pails of water to keep the family and himself alive. The chickens great-grandmother had killed had been turned into a charcoal mess of bones and burned feathers!
“At daylight they walked miles to the nearest gathering of settlers where a few unburned buildings and partial buildings still stood. Nearly all the food supply in the area was destroyed, as was the sum of all they and other families owned — up in smoke. Wagons of food, blankets, clothes, and tents were brought to the area by those who lived outside of the site of fire damage.
“The aftermath is another whole story of struggle, searching for bodies, burials, rebuilding, and courageous investment of hope for the future.
“It is said that the first table grace my great-grandfather spoke after the fire, while gazing with amazement at the food on the table — meager but fragrant loaves of bread and a bowl of apples which survived in an underground fruit cellar — was this: ‘Almighty Lord God, we thank you for your blessing of life in the midst of death and disaster. You are the true wellspring of our salvation and faith. Amen.’
“The ‘wellspring of our salvation’ quote is from the Old Testament. Good thing they had many scriptures memorized because their family Bible was burned along with their log home and its contents.”
Thank you, Cousin Lana! What an easy way to write a column!
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