FOOTNOTES:
[A] The exact acreage, from actual measurement is 200 acres; streetage, 9.6 miles.
CHAPTER II.
The Late Fire—Its Origin—Bravery of the Firemen—The High Wind—The Fire's Career—Fighting the Flames—Almost Lost—The Escape from the Burning Building—Destruction of Dock Street—Smyth Street in Flames—The Wharves—Demolition of Market Square—Something about the Business Houses there—The Banks—Fire checked at North Street.
The great fire, for we must distinguish it by that title, since in vastness it overpowers all other similar calamities which have befallen St. John, originated in the late Joseph Fairweather's building, York Point, Portland, at half past two on Wednesday afternoon, 20th June. The writer and Mr. Frederick R. Fairweather were walking down King Street at the time of the alarm, and, in company with hundreds of others, visited the scene of what promised at the time to be a very small affair indeed. When the place was reached, McLaughlin's boiler shop was in flames and all efforts of the firemen to put out the fire were checkmated at every turn by the fierce north-west wind which was blowing a perfect gale. In a few minutes the fire spread with alarming rapidity, and houses went down as if a mine of powder had exploded and razed them. The wind lifted from the roofs immense brands and sparks, and by three o'clock the city was in flames at a dozen points. Lower Cove was on fire, and the dryness of the houses rendered them as useless to withstand the blaze as bits of paper would have been. The huge blazing brands
were carried along in the air for miles around, and where-ever they dropped a house went down. The engines were powerless, and the firemen, though they worked like heroes, availed but little. The wild, mad flames, now in sheets, now with a million tongues of angry fork-like columns, dashed against the wharves, levelling them to the water's edge, ripping up the pavements of the streets, and crushing houses out of existence in a single swoop. Nothing could be done. The leaping demon swept all before him. Hare's Wharf with its buildings bowed before the destroyer, and with a roar which thrilled every heart, and unnerved every man who stood there, the whole force of the fire dashed into Smyth Street and shattered every building in it. J. W. Nicholson's wine vaults, Harrison's flour warehouse, Logan & Lindsay's storehouse, Robertson Place, which exceeded in value half a million of dollars, were snapped up in a second. The flames spread into Drury Lane and Mill Street, and soon both sides of Dock Street were in the common ruin. But while this was going on, the rear of the London House, in Market Square, was threatened and the old barracks in Lower Cove were on fire. A reinforcement from Carleton and Portland fire departments came to the assistance of the firemen at this juncture, and every man worked with a will. The hose was directed with admirable expertness but the high wind baffled the efforts of all who stood before it. It could rise higher than the water, and it could travel faster than man. A mass of flames at the end of Smyth Street and Drury Lane burned close to an engine,
but the dauntless firemen, holding boards over their heads to protect their faces and eyes from the heat, gave battle to the relentless foe. It was a fight of water and human endurance against fire, and fire prevailed in the end. The unequal combat lasted some minutes, and it was only when death seemed imminent that the men drew away, and even then they only yielded the ground inch by inch, till they could no longer stand up before the charging enemy. The fire was now going with headlong speed down Dock Street. Frantic women wildly sobbing filled the roads with the few sticks of furniture and portions of bedding which they had managed to save. Children hastened along crying aloud, and making the scene more dreadful as they ran barefooted over the hot sidewalk. Men with picture frames and books rushed past, calling and threatening, and moaning. It was a scene terrible in its reality. People were driven from street to street, and hurled forward, till, with horror in their blanched faces, they turned and saw in their rear the wild flames hemming them in. With many a shriek they dashed into the side streets. Some ran along Water Street, only to meet the flames there, and a few sought refuge in rafts and boats, and sped to Carleton, losing in the excitement every dollar they owned in the world. The old McSweeney lime-stone building, which came to a point on the corner of Union and Dock Streets, early succumbed and was a mass of crumbling ruins. It was near this edifice that a woman rescued her child from instant death, and pulled her
away just in time to escape being buried in a mass of stone, which came tumbling down in a thousand pieces. The Rankine bakery, another building known far and wide, suffered demolition, and was soon a heap of ruins. Some young men, three in number, entered a store on Mill Street, to avoid the dust and smoke. In a little while they saw with agony the flames burst in upon them from the rear door, ten or twelve feet from the entrance. They called for help, and attempted to gain an exit from the place which was now filled with heavy black smoke. Three times they sought the door, and every minute they began to realize the imminence of their danger. The flames and smoke drove them back, and now the water from the hose came tearing into their faces, knocking their breath away, and saturating them with the wet. Two jumped with the frenzy of madmen and the wildness of despair, and landed into the street safe, but paralysed with fear. The other man groped his way on his hands and knees along the floor and felt for the door. He succeeded after enduring much suffering, in crawling into the street. All that these three saved was on their backs. In the midst of the commotion in Dock Street, merchants were busily engaged in securing their books and private papers, and hurrying out with them. Some trusted to their safes and locked their doors. The sweep in this street was a clear one. The old "Hammond House" went shortly after the McSweeney building, and the Figaro Opera House followed shortly after. This building was built a few years ago, as an exhibition hall, by Otis Small,
Esq., and leased to Major George Bishop, as a concert room. He occupied it awhile, and Pete Lee succeeded him in the lesseeship and management of the concern. Some excellent performances of the variety kind have been given in this building. The hall was comfortably seated and tastefully arranged. Latterly it was converted, by Prof. Neilson, into a ball-room and dancing academy, when it received its new name, "Figaro Opera House."
Dock Street was soon in ashes, and it was while this street was burning that a grand rush was made by the merchants and private bankers, to the Bank of New Brunswick. Piles of bank notes, bills of exchange, mortgages, bonds, specie, books of account, ledgers, &c., &c., were placed in tin boxes, when practicable, and deposited, through the courtesy of George Schofield, Esq., of the bank, into the vaults. They were not a moment too soon, for now the splendid front of the Market Square was in a blaze, and Hall & Fairweather's store on South Wharf was burning. An immense amount of damage was being done. On this square a vast deal of business had been done for many years, and leading merchants had made and lost fortunes on its site. The London House, Messrs. Daniel & Boyd's wholesale establishment, represented a large value. It stood in the centre of the square, and the gradual sinking of this structure was a sad but grandly imposing sight. It was here where enterprise was to be found, and Daniel & Boyd's name was ever the synonym for honesty, integrity, and truth. It was in this spacious warehouse where the busy merchants were to be seen,
eager to help the young men of the city, and anxious to develop the resources of the country. In every good work, in every deed of charity, Thomas W. Daniel and John Boyd headed the list, and to them many a young merchant to-day is indebted for that teaching, which, in after life, made him honourable in his dealings. This prominent house was started in 1831 by Holdsworth & Daniel. The fire of 1839 carried their store away, and for a while the firm occupied the store known as Jardine's, Prince William Street. In 1839, the land on the market square was purchased by Mr. Thos. Daniel for £4,000. (In 1811 this place was used as a blacksmith's shop.) In 1847, Mr. Thomas Daniel left the firm and went to England. His nephew, the present head of the house, Thos. W. Daniel, began business on his own account, and soon after 1852, he admitted John Boyd as a partner in the house, under the style of T. W. Daniel & Co. Shortly after the style of this firm was changed to Daniel & Boyd. On the corner to the right of Daniel & Boyd, No. 1 Market Square, was the staunch old drug establishment of the late W. O. Smith, Esq. Mr. Smith, the father of our present ex-Mayor, opened here after the fire of 1839, and the business has been conducted here till the late fire, by his son, A. Chipman Smith, since 1871, when his father died in March of that year. In the adjoining store, so many years occupied by Lawton & Vassie, Messrs. Manchester, Robertson & Allison, may be said to have begun business. They left here, W. W. Jordan taking the store, to occupy their commodious premises in King Street, which alone
kept off the fire from the north side of King Street. The saving of this building was one of the marvels of the present calamity. It really held the key to the whole of this side of the street. But for the laundry and the well managed protective means employed by the firm and their friends, the destruction of this house and the entire street would have been accomplished. Men stood idly in the courtway folding their arms and telling one another that the building could not possibly be saved, when Mr. Manchester, in his short impulsive way, told them if every one did as they were doing, it could not; but he intended to use every effort in his power before he gave it up. The firemen here worked with a will, and were rewarded with a splendid result. It was on this side of the street that the Western Union Telegraph Office was situated, and it and Mr. J. W. Hall's new building were the first to go. The Maritime Block—a splendid structure—in which the banks, Maritime, Montreal and Nova Scotia, were established, and which faced the Market Square, went down while it was yet daylight. In this building the offices of the school trustees, Dun, Wiman & Co., A. P. Rolph, Lumber Exchange, and Board of Trade were held. While Mr. Rolph was engaged in getting his things ready to move out, Mr. Richard Thompson's men were hastening in with silver-ware and jewelry, thinking in their excitement that this building was at all events safe. Mr. Thompson's loss is very heavy, and the damage to his elegant and costly stock is considerable. The lot on which the Sheffield House stood was offered some years ago, at
private sale, to John Wilmot, Esq., father of Senator R. Duncan Wilmot, by James Brimner, for £2,000. Mr. Wilmot refused it, and attended the auction sale when it was knocked down to him for £2,950. The police office went next, Watts & Turner's, H. & H. McCullough's, and round again to the north wharf, carrying Lewin & Allingham, Chas. R. Ray, W. H. Thorne & Co. (retail), and Thomas M. Reed, along with it. The destruction on the north wharf totally demolished the establishment of Jas. Domville & Co., and the books of the firm which had been taken to the Maritime Bank for safe keeping, were subsequently burned there. The saving of the Bank of British North America, the only monetary institution in the city which resumed business the next day as usual, was one of those wonderful events which only occur at rare intervals. The fire roared lustily in the rear of the bank, but something seemed to command it to halt there, and advance no further. A large barn went down, and now it was deemed certain that the bank would go next, but no, the fire crossed the square, dashed along Water Street, cut into Ward Street, destroyed a slip full of schooners and wood boats, slipped into Tilton's Alley, and rushed along with frightful rapidity on both sides of every thoroughfare in its way. On the one side of the city the fire was stopped at North Street, having reached J. & T. Robinson's house and store.
THE BUILDING WHICH PREVENTED THE FIRE FROM EXTENDING UP KING ST.
CHAPTER III.
The Fire in King Street—Recollections—The Old Coffee House Corner—The Stores in King Street—The Old Masonic Hall—The St. John Hotel—Its Early Days—The Bell Tower—King Square—A Night of Horror—The Vultures at Work—Plundering the Destitute.
The fire entered King Street in the western side from Germain and Canterbury Streets. It began by burning down Lawton & Vassie's brick store, erected on the site which contained the famous Bragg building. This stout building and Bowes & Evan's premises were soon buried in the common ruin. The fire went along King Street, destroying Mr. Sharp's dry goods store, Jas. Adams & Co's., James Manson's magnificent palace, including his safe and all his valuable papers, John K. Storey's and Magee Bros., Imperial Block. This last place is quite historic. This block was erected in 1852, by the late John Gillis. It was built on the site where the memorable coffee house stood. Here of an evening for years and years the old men of the place used to sit and gossip and smoke and sip their toddy. Here in 1815 they met to learn the news of the war between France and England, and read the story of Waterloo four or five months after it was fought and won. In this sort of Shakspeare tavern, the leading merchants of the day met and chatted over large sales, and compared notes. Here a verbal commercial agency was established, and here delightful old gossips,
like busy Sam Pepys and garrulous old busybodies, like Johnson's Bozzy, met and told each other all about everybody else's affairs. What a time these old fellows had every night sitting there in that quaint old coffee house, chatting and smoking, smoking and chatting again. And there were Ben Jonsons in those days, who wrote dramatic pieces and showed them to their friends over a cup of hot spiced rum. And poets too, full of the tender passion, sighed out hexameters of love in that old coffee house so dear to some of the men we meet to-day who lost everything in the flames on that dark Wednesday in June. Ah, yes, the grand old coffee house was torn down in 1852 to make room for the handsome pile of stone and brick which perished only the other day. The corner is again bare, and the few who remember the coffee house are fast passing away.
The Burland Desbarats Lith. Co. Montreal
KING STREET.
The fire now gained great headway, and soon it was seen taking prodigious leaps, going ahead, and then seemingly to dart back again and finish what it had already begun. The people everywhere were in the wildest state of excitement. In the back streets the fire was progressing and destroying the residences of the men who were trying to save their business property in the marts of commerce. People sent car loads of their more valuable goods to places which appeared to be safe, but which turned out in the end to be of only temporary security. Men had their stores burned at four and five o'clock, and their goods burned at seven and eight o'clock. It was only putting off the evil for a few brief hours. Cartmen
charged wildly and exorbitantly—some having to pay as high as fifty dollars to have carted away a cartload of stuff. On every roof in King Street clerks and employers stood with hose and buckets of water, but nothing that man could do or devise held the flames at bay, or kept them off for the brief space of a moment. The fire was determined on a clean sweep, and despite the most strenuous exertions it had its own way, and baffled the efforts of those who attempted to stay its fierce will. Beek's corner, lately in the occupancy of H. R. Smith, bookseller, and a perfect feeder of a fire like this, was an easy prey, and with a loud roar its rafters fell, and a well-known corner was no more. Mullin's shoe store, a building of similar construction, went down in another moment, and now the only brick building in the block from Canterbury Street to Germain Street was attacked by the fire. This was Pine's brick building, a fine structure which several years ago Mr. George Jury Pine built, and in which I. & F. Burpee commenced business, and George Stewart, of Stewart & White, began trade. Messrs. Della, Torre & Co. occupied No. 30, and Geo. Stewart, Jr., Druggist, held the other store, No. 32. The present owner of the building, Stephen Whittaker, of Fredericton, had lately begun the erection of a spacious rear addition, and improvements on a liberal scale had been commenced in the upper stories. The rest of the building was known as the Russell House. This building went to pieces about six o'clock. The photograph rooms were destroyed before Pine's building went, and the flames sped quickly, carrying be
fore them the stores of Bardsley Bros., Scott & Binning, W. K. Crawford, Geo. Salmon, and Hanington Bros.' drug store, formerly Fellows & Co.'s establishment on Foster's Corner, corner King and Germain Streets. The contents of this store were quickly snapped up by the fire, and pills and plasters, soaps and perfumes were spilled about in hopeless profusion and confusion. Mr. T. H. Hall's twin buildings were across the street, but a barrier like that was an easy jump for the infuriated flames. They leaped into the windows, attacked the wood-work, and with a strong pull the two splendid stone buildings were borne to the ground, and thousands of dollars' worth of property lay scattered about in all directions. Mr. Hall occupied the corner store as a book-store, and T. L. Coughlan had the other. Dr. J. M. C. Fiske, dentist held the room overhead.[B] The Gordon House, Fred. S. Skinner's grocery store, a row of wooden shanties, Landry's brick building, with a rich stock of organs in it, Logan, Lindsay & Co.'s large grocery, A. & J. Hay's, Geo. Nixon's, Wm. Warn's bath-rooms, W. H. Watson's, Geo. Suffren's, W. H. Patterson's, Taylor & Dockrill's, George Sparrow's, R. McAndrew's, and the United States Hotel, only lived a short time in the very heart of the fire.
PINE'S BRICK BUILDING KING ST., THE ONLY BRICK BUILDING BETWEEN CANTERBURY AND GERMAIN STS.
The fire closed here for a moment, engaging a building dear from long and good service to the people of St. John, and eminently historical in its way. The United States Hotel, as Mr. Hinch, the photographer, called it, when he
took possession of it a few years since, was known for many years as the old Masonic Hall. It stood on the corner of King Street and Charlotte Street, and was commenced by the Free and Accepted Masons in 1816. It was decided to erect this Temple of Masonry at a meeting of the craft held April 1, 1816. The lot of land was leased from the corporation of Trinity Church, and on the 28th September following the corner-stone was laid, on which was inscribed the following:—
"This stone of the Masonic Hall was laid on 28th Sept., 1816, of the era of Masonry 5816, and the reign of George the Third, King of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, in the mayoralty of John Robinson, Esq., by Thomas Wetmore, Esq., H.M. Attorney-General of N.B., as Grand Master, substitute of John Pike, Esq,. Grand Master of the Society of Masons, Nova Scotia, and the jurisdiction thereof."
BELL TOWER AND KING SQUARE.
The movement was not successful in a pecuniary sense, for in 1819 the building was sold at sheriffs sale, at suit of James Hendricks. The purchaser was Israel Lawson. Mr. Lawson had the building completed, and leased the third or upper story to the Masons. The room was 60 feet by 30 feet, with two large ante-rooms. It was in this room that all the concerts, balls, public parties, and public meetings given in the city were held for many years. Up to 1836 the house was known as the Masonic Hall, but after this year its name was changed. The St. John Hotel Company was formed, and the building was purchased from Mr. Lawson and converted into a hotel. It
was called the "St. John Hotel," and Mr. Cyrus Stockwell father of the Honourable Mr. Stockwell, editor of the Boston Journal, opened it on May 24th, 1837. He was its first proprietor. A copy of the company's original seal is given below. It was made of brass, and was two inches in diameter.
This was the first hotel in St. John. It was here that Governor-General Poulet Thompson and Lord
Elgin stopped, and all the notables who from time to time visited the city. In 1840, Mr. Stockwell retired, and Messrs. W. & J. Scammell succeeded him in the management of the hotel. These enterprising gentlemen set to work at once to remodel the building, and they soon had it in splendid working order. The same energy which the present firm of Scammell Bros. throw into their business, was characteristic of the old firm of Scammell Bros. in 1840. In 1851, W.
& J. Scammell left the St. John Hotel, and took up their quarters in the Waverley House, nearly opposite. The [picture] which accompanies this sketch of the old
hotel represents the building as it appeared in 1837. It is taken from an old picture, and as but two or three copies were known to exist before the late fire, it is a question now if more then one copy was saved. The old St. John Hotel is full of associations, pleasurable in every case, to travellers who used to come to St. John thirty and forty years ago. Even in 1858, when Messrs. Whitney & Adams kept it, it was still a home for the stranger. There was a freedom about its old rooms, and a positive luxuriance which one looks for in vain in the hotels of our later days. About 1861-62, people used to sit in Ned Sharland's book-store, which was on the ground-flat, and sketch the Bell-tower, which was then certainly "a thing of beauty," even if Mr. Warner found it the reverse in 1874, when he climbed up to the triumphal arch and found it was made of wood, painted and sanded, instead of solid stone, as he thought it was. This bell-tower was erected in 1851, and the large bell which for years tolled out that fire was at hand, was made in 1852, and came from Meneely's, West Troy, New York. Before that day, men struck a gong from a scaffold whenever there was a fire. The tower was useful even in its latter days, if its beauty had departed three years ago. The cut which we supply will give the reader at a distance some idea of the old tower, as it appeared in its lusty young days. When the city comes to be built up again, the site of the late hotel must not be forgotten. It is eminently adapted for an hotel. It is centrally located, and has a frontage of 120 feet on King Street, by 100 feet on Charlotte Street.
King Square did much to stay the onward march of the fire. It was a haven of rest for those weary ones who were flying from the flames, with the few things they had saved from the burning. It was the camping ground of the soldiery, and the hospital bed of the sick and wounded, who were borne to the fresh grass, and laid there until help was brought to them. The Square, the first few days of the fire, was filled with furniture, and books, and household utensils. It was in this square that half-famished women, that night, hugged their little ones to their hearts, and rocked them, hungry and cold, on the sward till they went to sleep, only to awaken again and cry for something to eat. It was here that women gathered into slips the flying feathers that danced upon the grass and were the playthings of the wind, trying to save enough of what remained to make a rest for their heads. It was here they sat with wildly staring eyes, looking out into the night, while all around them the embers flew about, and the heavens were red with the sporting flames. It was before this that the Bell-tower fell with a deafening crash, and many a heart quailed in the Square, for this told that another historic fragment was swept away, and that the terrible fire was near at hand. Sobbing children ceased their wailing for a time, and feeble mothers prayed that God in His mercy might avert the calamity, and stay the warring flames. There was no more sleep for the tired ones. They must wander about, ringing their hands and crying aloud in their awful despair. Even men who had faced a thousand dangers,
quailed before the advance of the fire. The streets were alive with hurrying pedestrians. Horses were driven at breakneck speed, and the clattering hoofs told that danger was at hand. Human vultures stood, with their "pickers and stealers," ready to pounce upon everything that could be seized, and the presence of an appalling danger did not deter them from plundering the unfortunate and the destitute. It was the old war again, of the strong against the weak and powerless. A female vampire helped a widow lady to gather her little things together in a bundle, while her children stole the silver and jewelry, and made off with their plunder. Rough half-grown men stopped children in the streets, and snatched from their arms the treasured fragments from a broken home, which they were trying to rescue from the elemental spoiler. Loafers and thieves held high carnival, and despite the agony which was felt on all sides, these miscreants never for an instant forgot that they were thieves, or neglected to ply their calling when chance threw anything in their way. All night they roamed the streets, and thrived on the misfortunes of others. Ask them for assistance, and they knocked you down. Give them something to hold a minute, and they made off with it. The vilest scum that ever filled a penitentiary stalked abroad that night, and their lawlessness but added to the horror of the hour.
The Burland Desbarats Lith. Co. Montreal
VIEW OF KING ST., SHOWING ST. JOHN HOTEL, 1837.
The Burland Desbarats Lith. Co. Montreal
NORTH SIDE KING ST. AND BELL TOWER.