FOOTNOTES:
[C] The outside dimensions of the Academy were 190x51 feet. The front 65 feet high, showing three stories in front. The finish was Italian in its general style, very rich and pleasing to the eye, with heavy and elaborate carved work. A large bust of Queen Victoria adorned the summit of the building, while over the main entrance an excellent bust of Shakespeare indicated the uses for which the building was intended. The front doors were massive in style, of solid walnut, and weighed sixteen hundred pounds. Inside.—The parquette was reached by a wide entrance; on either side of this entrance were broad and easy stairs leading to the balcony; while above this was the gallery for the gods, which was approached from a separate entrance. The parquette was furnished with 600 opera chairs, and the seating capacity of the whole building was 1,200. The scenery, ample in supply and excellent in character, was painted by Gaspard Maeder. The building when finished cost the Company over $60,000.
[D] St. John was formerly called Parr Town.
—— Legislature granted £250 towards erection of kirk.
[F] Three members of the congregation of this Church were lost at the time of the fire—Mrs. Thos. Reed, Mr. Joseph Bell, Capt. Wm. M. B. Firth.
CHAPTER VI.
The Odd Fellows' Hall—The fire in Horsfield Street—The Sweep along Germain Street—The old Baptist Church—Some early Ministers—Two fiery ordeals—The Brick Church—The Ruins—The Bay View Hotel—An old Landmark gone—The blazing Barracks—St. James's—The Hazen House—St. Malachi's Chapel—The first Roman Catholic Church.
The Independent Order of Odd Fellows is a very numerous and widely respected body in St. John. Its roll of membership embraces many of the best names in the city, and the order has grown from a very humble beginning to quite an influential position in the community. It is only a few years ago that some zealous members of the order banded themselves together and formed Pioneer Lodge, No. 9. In a little time the lodge grew so rapidly that it became too cumbersome to work, and new lodges had to be made—first it was Beacon, then Peerless, and latterly Siloam, in this city alone; besides, the order is strong in Moncton and also in Fredericton. An encampment, too, flourishes, and is largely adding to its membership. The Odd Fellows' Hall was pleasantly situate in what used to be No. 5 Engine House. The hall was commodious and neatly furnished, and the ante-rooms were convenient and well adapted for carrying on the exercises of the order. The ground flat and second story were occupied by Mr. Richard Welch, and the Odd Fellows met in the room immediately overhead. The loss
by fire to the order was quite extensive, though a good deal of the regalia and paraphernalia were saved through the forethought of some of the members who managed to get into the building in time. The fire swept both sides of Horsfield Street, and carried along with it the dwelling of P. Besnard, Esq., and the house where James Hannay, the historian, lived. Mr. Hannay, who was at Oakpoint during the conflagration preparing his history of Acadia, lost a number of valuable books, including some high-priced and scarce volumes.[G] Some two or three hundred pages of his history were printed, but these were destroyed in the printing houses where they were kept. Fortunately Mr. Hannay had with him one copy of the sheets as far as printed, so the loss is not irretrievable. A portion of the unprinted manuscript, however, shared the common fate of everything that came in contact with fire on that fatal day, and this the historian had to re-write. In this street the old Theatre[H] once stood, in which professionals and amateurs read Shakspeare and Massinger to admiring audiences. Among the amateurs, some of our readers may remember, were the late Richard Seely, who was accounted a good actor in his day, and the late Col. Otty, whose Othello was a really creditable performance. While the fire was rendering desolate this street, the other wing of it was ruthlessly invading Germain Street, to the very water's
edge. Otis Small's corner house, the Thomson House, some of the inmates of which had to flee in small boats, the residences of the Messrs. McMillan, father and son, the old Bayard House, the Seed's property, the former residence of W. O. Smith, Esq., No. 119, and then in the occupancy of the inmates of the Home for the Aged, some of whom got away in hardly enough time to save their lives.
Mr. Carey's Parsonage was on fire very soon after this, and all efforts to save it or the old Baptist Church next door, proved unavailing. In a short time only a blackened wall of smouldering ruins stood there to tell in more eloquent language than words could relate, of the sad havoc which the fire-king had made. For many years this church was to the Baptists, what Trinity, St. Andrew's, and Germain Street Chapel were to their denominations. It, too, had a history of its own, as dear to the people who Sunday after Sunday sat within its walls and heard the word of God spoken, as the historic data which filled every niche and corner of the first English Church in the city. It was first built of wood three score years ago, on the old site where the brick church stood, a period ago since, and such men as John M. Wilmot, Thomas Pettingill, and Jeremiah Drake, were the leading pillars and supporters of a body of Christians distinguished alike for their charity, faithfulness, and liberality. The church was organized in 1810, ground was broken in 1818 and the large frame building was opened for service July 12th of the same year. Wm. Stenning and Thomas
Harding purchased the site, and the former gentleman superintended the building of the edifice. For many years this was the only meeting-house which the Baptists had, and there are men living to-day who remember the struggles and trials which the denomination experienced in trying to plant a foothold in the sparsely populated district which St. John then was. The pastors of this church were known far and wide as earnest and faithful men, and such names as Samuel Robinson, Casewell, Bill, Henry Vaughan, and G. M. W. Carey, live in the hearts of all people and add lustre to any faith. When the question of tearing down the old structure which had withstood the storms of nearly half a century, and the replacing of it with a new one to be built of brick was proposed, there were many in the congregation who had grown up with the church through the long decades of time, and who had watched the building step by step, advance to its completion, and proudly take its place among the sacred edifices of the street of churches. These men opposed the measure, but the march of new ideas prevailed, and in 1863, the last of the old church was borne away and a handsome brick building was begun. The former vestry was converted into a parsonage, and the Rev. Henry Vaughan, son of the late Simon Vaughan, of St. Martin's, was the minister in charge. The church cost forty thousand dollars. Mr. Vaughan died in 1864. When Mr. Carey, the present pastor, arrived in St. John in 1865, the church was being built and he preached for a while in the basement, and in December, 1866, the first sermon in
the church proper was preached by the same eloquent minister. A tablet was erected to the memory of his predecessor in the church. In 1873 this church was partially destroyed by fire, but the enterprising congregation soon had it up again. Thus has this edifice passed through two ordeals of like character. The church had just begun to recover from its first disaster. The liberality of its people had placed it out of debt, and while in the enjoyment of a splendid prosperity it was stricken down before the very eyes of the powerless people who loved it most. No one could do anything but watch the rapid demolition, and behold the rafters swing and the building rock and shake, and observe the long sinewy flames grapple with the walls and hurl them to the earth. There were strong men that day who wept when they witnessed the destruction. And when the sad work was done, some gathered near the ruins and looked down upon the site that had held a church while they were yet babes, and old gray-haired veterans who had worshipped here all their lives, felt that death would not be so bitter now since church and home were gone forever. The insurance on this church was very light and the loss is very heavy. The pastor saved literally nothing of his own effects and his fine library and the intellectual labour of twenty years, passed from his gaze with the rapidity of the whirlwind.
The fire next crossed the street, and attacked Mr. Harding's houses, destroying his residence, and that of Mr. Joseph Allison. Queen Street shared the common fate; and
on the side of Germain Street opposite the church, in the building where Mrs. Crane had her seminary for young ladies, the inmates were forced to escape in the International steamer, and get away from the fire by water. The street was impassable, and all hope of getting through to a locality which had not yet been reached by the flames had to be abandoned. Terror seized the ladies for the moment, but the courage which sometimes comes with despair, made them cool enough to think of the water. The strength of iron came to them, and in a moment they were saved. It was before this house that a woman fell on her knees and offered up prayer; and here it was that another woman, fearing the judgment day at hand, gave utterance to loud wails and cries, that sent a pang to every heart. In the melee, an old lady belonging to the Home for the Aged was lost, and her feeble sisters in adversity moaned and mourned for her all through the night. The next day she was found, and joy came to some hearts that had known no like emotion for several years. Those kindly old ladies living so long together were as one family, and a vacant chair at the table cruelly reminded them of the broken homes they had too often seen. The houses across Queen Street, on this same side of Germain Street, were not long in following. Pagan Place, the old residence of the late Edward Allison, Stephen Blizard's house on the other side, John W. Cudlip's residence, in Germain Street, seemed to burn at the same time. The Bay View Hotel—a valuable structure that reminded the spectator of the old feudal time, when castles were resi
dences of the great, was erected in the year 1819, by Henry Wright, Collector, and used as a private residence up to about twelve years ago. It was built by day's work, and in those days the workmen received every Saturday night their pay in Spanish doubloons. Change was very scarce, and there was no paper money. Mr. Henry Wright died in 1829, and the house then fell into the occupancy of the late Wm. Wright, Advocate General, and John Boyd, M.D. Mr. Wilson was its lessee latterly, and it became an hotel under his management. It held a commanding position, and looked far out to sea. Strangers always paused to look up to the splendid front and defiant head, which reminded them of the old strongholds which render historic every inch of the old land across the blue water. And to-day, the ruins look even more picturesque and grand than the building did in its proudest days. Another landmark has been taken away, and it did not long survive those who dwelt in its spacious halls in the days of the long ago.
But while the fire was busy with this portion of the City, it was also extremely active and equally destructive in the lower part of St. John. The barracks were even burned down long before it was deemed likely that the Victoria Hotel would go. The sparks travelling in this direction with great rapidity, soon communicated with the long, low building which was built for the troops in 1819.[I] The fire, when it reached here had full scope.
Nothing stood in its way, and it really spent its greatest strength here. The majority of the houses in this quarter were composed of wood, and so many of them were close together, that four or five houses were burned to the ground in about the same space that in ordinary times would be spent in consuming one. The burning of the barracks was witnessed by several thousand persons, and, for a while there were some who fancied that the blaze would cease with the destruction of this property. But, alas, for the fallacy of human hopes. The great headway of the flame was made, and nothing could stop it, till from sheer exhaustion, it spent itself. But the eager wind kept fanning it into fury whenever it shewed signs of abatement and not until it reached the barren banks along the water's edge did it relinquish its grasp on men's household goods and homes. Even then it did not stop at once, for small scrubs of trees, bits of shrubbery and grass fed it for a while. Indeed the fire may be said to have taken a new lease of life in those back places, and the rookeries of whole streets were swept into ruin and their inmates hurried into greater misery than they had ever known before. In Main Street, St. James (Episcopalian) Church was burned; it caught very soon from a flying spark. This church was erected in the summer of 1850 by Trinity Church. The parish was set off from Trinity in 1852, but the church was built two years before; the dividing line of the parish was south of Queen Street; the first rector was the Rev. John Armstrong who was succeeded by his son, Rev. Wm. Armstrong who held the rectorship nearly twenty years.
The building was of the Gothic cruciform style of architecture and Mr. M. Stead was the architect. It had no tower. The first wardens were the late John R. Robinson, Esq., father of the agent in this city of the Bank of Nova Scotia, and the late Wm. Wright. The church was situate on the south side of Main Street, between Sydney and Carmarthen Streets and the lots ran through to Sheffield Street. The Sunday-school building was built in the rear.
The Sheffield Street Mission House and the Carmarthen Street Mission House (Methodist) were structures of late origin, and for a while did much good in the locality where they were placed. The fire visited them very soon and they were burned in a short time. All along Carmarthen Street the flames sped quickly, completely encircling every house with which it came in contact, and whenever they met a crossing street the fire drove through it with seeming greater fury and impetuosity. The lately erected Adam's terrace—a row of comfortable dwellings just finished within the year—burned with a tremendous roar that was heard above the din, for blocks away. In these houses were the families of Robt. Turner, Fred. R. Fairweather and W. C. Watson, Esqs., and so quickly did the flames spread that hardly a stick of furniture was saved, and hundreds of valuable books were burned. Judge Watters's residence, the home of Attorney-General King, Henry A. Austin's, Madame Caritte's, and the Henderson houses, hardly lived thirty minutes in the winding sheets of flame. The fire came up Carmarthen Street, up Prin
cess Street, up Leinster Street, up Duke Street, up Orange Street, to the rear of those streets and down King Street east and also in its rear on a portion of the south side. Many believed and there seemed good grounds for that belief, that but for the torch of the incendiary, Leinster Street would have been preserved. No one doubts but that it was set on fire by some miscreant either through madness or through the hope of gain. This is beyond dispute. The fire was going in the opposite direction, nothing could bring it up towards King Square and the head of Leinster Street. It was out of all reason to suppose that the sparks could be carried to these points for the wind was opposite, and the open square had, till late in the evening, kept the flames away and broke the connection. The old[J] Hazen House built by Dr. Thomas Paddock, which is still standing to-day, and passed safely through the fire, stood invincible at the head of a column of buildings. The fire was confined to its own seething territory, and this block between Leinster and East King Street, and the whole of King Square were safe. But as the night advanced,[K] a house far away from the reach of
flying cinders, was observed on a sudden to be throwing out flames, and from that moment all knew the eastern portion of the city was doomed to destruction. Christian Robertson's mammoth stable, with its splendid livery appointments, and large stock of feed and hay, representing large value, was only a plaything of the moment. Old St. Malachi's Chapel, the first Roman Catholic Church in the city, caught from the sparks which were borne on the breeze from the stable. Its destruction was complete. The first service held by a clergyman of the Faith in St. John, was in the City Hall, Market Square, 1813, by Rev. Charles French. St. Malachi's Chapel was opened by that gentleman, October 1st, 1815. Among the
priests who succeeded him in that place were Father McQuade, who in 1819, had thirty women and thirty-five men for a congregation, and Fathers Macmahon, Carrol, and Dumphy. Mr. Carrol came from Halifax, and was the nephew of the first Roman Catholic Bishop of the Maritime Provinces—Bishop Burk. Of late years St. Malachi's was used for school, lecture, bazaar, and other purposes. Some of the most eloquent efforts of J. C. Ferguson and R. J. Ritchie, have been delivered from the platform of this Hall, on temperance and other topics. St. Malachi's was used as a church until the cathedral was opened under Bishop Connolly's charge. The St. Vincent De Paul Society met in this hall for several years, as well as those other excellent institutions, the C. T. A. and St. Joseph's Societies.