In October 1871, during a dry night, a fire originated in a barn adjacent to a cottage located in the southwest part of Chicago. In the past decade, the city expanded nearly threefold, and not just the houses, but the streets and pavements too, were built from wood. For weeks, there had been no actual rainfall, and the night before, another fire had exhausted the city's firefighters and damaged their equipment. When it started, there was only a small reserve remaining.
It moved fast. The watchman's mistake sent the fire crews to the wrong place first, and the flames got a head start, which they never gave back. A southwest wind bearing burning debris swept into city areas previously thought safe, constructed from stone and brick rather than wood. Those structures still ended up catching fire. The fire reaching the waterworks caused the city to lose its water pressure just when it was necessary. It wasn't until the third day that the rain, which finally helped extinguish it, arrived.
By then, around 300 individuals had passed away. Approximately 17,000 structures fell. A third of the city's residents, roughly 100,000 people, had no shelter. It remains unproven how it all began.
A story still managed to fill the void. It's said that a cow accidentally overturned a lantern as Catherine O'Leary was milking in the barn, and that event is what sparked the fire that engulfed Chicago. According to Catherine O'Leary, she was in bed when the fire started. The official inquiry agreed that there was no proof she had done anything. Years later, a reporter published that he had fabricated the cow tale along with some friends who had passed away before he admitted to it. He claimed it began when he guessed about a party attendee who had gone for milk. By the time it was published, it was no longer just a guess.
People kept liking the story long after it became popular. A poor Irish immigrant woman with five children and five cows spent her remaining years being treated as the one who ignited a major American city. She avoided reporters. She declined payments for public engagements. Her own residence, undamaged by the blaze, was the single aspect never contested.
For a period, there was another theory that was more sensational than a cow: that the blaze had been deliberately set by someone connected to a political rebellion in Paris that same year. The local paper reported his claimed confession. Somebody even wrote a poem about it. It did not stick at all.
Chicago spent little time sorting out the truth. In a decade, it grew back into a city of half a million people, and some of the architects who helped rebuild it were there long enough to help develop the modern skyscraper.
A large blaze led to the destruction of the city. It remained unclear how the fire began. After reconstruction, the city transformed into one of America's most significant architectural hubs. For more than a century, people blamed an animal for the fire. However, as far as anyone can verify, the animal never actually performed any action.