FOOTNOTES:
[L] Mr. Le Moyne's second appearance in St. John was at the Academy of Music, in October, 1876, when he appeared in a round of favourite characters from dramatizations of Dickens' novels, under the management of Mr. Charles H. Thayer, of Boston.
[M] As many readers take interest in the programmes used on first nights of theatres we give a copy of Mr. Lanergan's opening bill, at the Lyceum. It runs as follows:
ST. JOHN DRAMATIC LYCEUM.
South Side King's Square, St. John, N. B.
| Manager and Proprietor | Mr. J. W. Lanergan. |
| Stage Director | Frank Rea. |
| Scenic Artist | D. A. Strong. |
| Machinist and Property Maker | D. J. Moriarty. |
| Ticket Master | T. A. Allison. |
| "Those who live to please, Must please to live!" |
GRAND OPENING NIGHT!
The above new and elegant place of amusement will open for the first regular Dramatic Season, on Monday evening, June 15, 1857, with a full, Efficient and Talented Dramatic Company,—comprising the following well known Ladies and Gentlemen:
The entertainment will commence as above with the National Anthem!
GOD SAVE THE QUEEN,
By the Orchestra.—After which an Original opening Address written, and to be delivered by
G. F. TYRRELL.
To be followed by Sir E. L. Bulwer's Chaste and Elegant Comedy in 5 acts, entitled
Money!
| "'Tis a very good world that we live in, To lend, or to spend, to give in,— But to beg, or to borrow, or to get a man's own, 'Tis the very worst world that ever was known." |
| Alfred Evelyn | Mr. J. W. Lanergan. | |
| Benjamin Stout, Esq. | (first appearance) | Frank Rea. |
| Sir John Vesey | " " | Frank Rea. |
| Lord Glossmore | G. F. Tyrrell. | |
| Mr. Graves | (first appearance) | Mr. F. S. Buxton. |
| Sir Fredk. Blunt | " " | N. Davenport. |
| Capt. Dudley Smooth | " " | W. A. Donaldson. |
| Sharp | J. C. Wallace. | |
| Toke | (first appearance) | D. J. Moriarty. |
| Clara Douglas | Mrs. J. W. Lanergan. | |
| Lady Franklyn | (first appearance) | Mrs. Frank Rea. |
| Georgina | Mrs. J. C. Wallace. |
The entertainments of the evening will conclude with the Amusing farce,
with NEW READING, of
Mr. & Mrs. PETER WHITE.
| Mr. Peter White | Mr. | F. S. Buxton. |
| Major Pepper | " | N. C. Forrester. |
| Frank Brown | " | E. B. Holmes. |
| Widow White | Mrs. | J. W. Lanergan. |
| Mrs. Peter White | " | Frank Rea. |
| Kitty Clover | " | J. C. Wallace. |
PRICES OF ADMISSION.
Parquette 1s. 3d.—Dress Circle 2s. 6d.—Private and Family Boxes $4, 5 & 6 each.
Private and Family boxes can be secured in advance by application at the Box Office.
Doors open at half past 7—Commence at 8.
Ladies unaccompanied by gentlemen not admitted.
Good order is expected and will be rigidly enforced.
Printed at Day's Job Office, 4 Market Street.
[N] On these premises was situated the St. John Meteorological Observatory. This was destroyed, but all the instruments belonging to the Dominion were saved. Night and day observations have been made here under the superintendence of Gilbert Murdoch Esq., C. E., during the last 25 years.
CHAPTER VIII
Burning of the Leinster Street Baptist Church—The Varley School—Centenary Chapel—The Gas Works—$17,000 worth of Coal burn in Ten Days—The Tall Sentinel—St. David's Church—The Reformed Presbyterian Church—The Victoria School—Gigantic Ruins—An Accident—Sketch of the School-house.
After destroying the fence which enclosed the premises of the Water Company, the fire crossed the street, burned Mr. Wm. Murdoch, jr.'s, house, and turned its attention to the Leinster Street Baptist Church, which was soon brought to the level of the earth. This building was cleanly and squarely burned, and nothing approaching to the semblance of an edifice could be seen on the spot half-an-hour after the fire ceased. The building was completely swept away. The corporate body of the church was organized in 1858, under the pastorate of the Rev. E. B. Demill, son of Nathan S. Demill, with a membership of sixteen. The church was begun 1861, and in two months and a half the basement was finished and ready for service. In three years afterwards the church proper was completed, and the parsonage was erected in 1874. The former cost $13,000, and the latter $6,500. The second minister who presided over this congregation, was the Rev. W. V. Garner, who officiated for the first time in 1864. He was succeeded, in 1867, by Rev. W. S. Mackenzie, a trenchant writer and an excellent reasoner. The Rev. J. D. Pope followed him in 1874, and was the pastor
of the church at the time of the conflagration. The early deacons and prominent men of the church, were the late Nathan S. Demill and Saml. Kinsman. Hon. A. McL. Seely, A. W. Masters, J. F. Marsters, and Stephen E. Gerow are the present deacons. The building was fully insured, and after the church debt of $3,000 is paid, the people will have about $15,000 with which to commence re-building.
The old Varley Wesleyan day-school, a brick building which a prominent Methodist—the late Mark Varley—designed for the purpose of educating, free, the poor belonging to his faith, made a resolute stand against the forces of the leveller. But in vain was water dashed upon the building. The intense heat drove the people back and no efforts of man could prevent the school-house from being in the end subdued. This property was erected a little more than twenty years ago and served its purpose long and well. A first-class education could be gained here. The teachers were usually men of brains, and the system employed for imparting instruction was simple and efficacious. After the school law came into force this school was no longer necessary under its old management, and the school trustees leased the building from the Varley Trustees, and it was used as an advanced school, at the time of the fire. The building occupied two stories. The upper room was used for girls and the lower apartment for boys.
The rear of Centenary Chapel adjoined the Varley school, and being built of wood and very large, it went
up in a sea of flame without warning. The church was opened on its present site, corner of Princess and Wentworth streets, in 1839, the first Sunday after the fire in Dock street, and was designed by Mr. Burpee, an American architect. Mr. W. B. Frost put up the frame. The Rev. Dr. Wood, of Toronto, in 1838 preached the sermon on the laying of the corner-stone, and after the church was built he officiated for some years till 1846 when he left St. John. He was succeeded by the Rev. Henry Daniel and Rev. Mr. Sutcliffe, whose ministry lasted some three years. Rev. Dr. Knight and Rev. Mr. Cooney followed for four years. Then Rev. Messrs. James Hennigar and Cardy were the ministers for three years. Rev. Mr. Albrighton and Rev. Dr. Stewart, and Rev. Mr. Botterel held service for three years more. The Rev. Messrs. John McMurray and Wm. Wilson, were the clergymen for three years, and Rev. J. R. Narraway followed with Rev. Dr. Richey for the same period. After them came for two years Rev. Mr. England, who in his turn was followed by Rev. Mr. Lathern for three years and Rev. Donald Currie for two years. Rev. Dr. Henry Pope, who published a year ago, an acceptable series of sermons in two volumes, entitled, "Draughts from the Living Fountain," succeeded him for three years, and Rev. Howard Sprague, one of the most eloquent and popular divines in the conference was the last clergyman of this church. He was elected to proceed to England shortly after the burning, to get subscriptions and assistance for the rebuilding of the chapel. This church occupied the north-west corner of Princess
and Wentworth Streets. The other three corners contained three splendid residences, those of J. V. Troop and Chas. McLauchlan, jr., Esqs., Simeon Jones and Alexander Lockhart, Esqs. These houses being solidly built and very strong were a good while in burning, but they went at last and a large portion of the furniture and other household goods that were got into the street were stolen afterwards by the ghouls which infested the place. One lady lost in this way a valuable box of furs, another her jewelry and a third a work-box of ornate design and curious pattern, which contained many little nick-nacks of value and interest. In this street depredations of a wholesale nature went on unchecked all through the night. The houses of Mr. W. C. Godsoe and Mr. T. Amos Godsoe were both burned, and a house near by was pillaged by the mob even while the walls were swaying to and fro. Mr. J. W. Scammell's house on Princess Street and Mrs. Chas. Patton's residence caught fire from blazing brands which consumed them speedily, and the heavens were soon alive with burning bits of wood, which being borne on the breeze sailed lightsomely away. The fire burned several houses in Pitt Street, and though the occupants of Orange Terrace moved out quickly, their residences were saved, the paint only on the doors and front being singed.
The Burland Desbarats Lith. Co. Montreal
WENTWORTH STREET.
The Gas house which is located on Carmarthen Street was long in catching, but when the fire did reach it, its destruction was one of the most beautiful sights which were witnessed that night. An immense heap of coal took fire and the flames mounted to the sky. The great blaze
lasted nine or ten days afterwards and the value of the coal was over $17,000. Nothing was left on the spot but the tall sentinel-like chimney, blackened in the fire, and standing like a monument over the wreck of an institution, which the morning before represented a value exceeding two hundred and sixty thousand dollars. The company under the excellent direction of Robert Blair, Esq., the President, had just received a new lease of life and impetus. Since his assumption of the duties of the office, the stock rapidly rose in value, the price of gas was reduced, and improvements on a large scale had been inaugurated. In a single night these works were swept away and only blackened heaps of ruin remain. But the energy of Robert Blair has not departed, and in less than six months gas will again burn as brightly as ever in the less luxuriant halls of the stricken population who can afford it. The works were built in 1845, and in the evening of the 18th of September of the same year, gas was first turned on in St. John. Philip Peebles, Esq., C. E., now of Quebec, was the engineer who furnished the plans, and Geo. Peebles, Esq., C. E., was the Superintending Engineer. The latter remained for a time and took charge. The first Secretary Treasurer was Mr. Robert Reed. Mr. Gilbert Murdoch C. E. was Superintendent of the works, and had charge of the pipe-laying and distributing arrangements. Mr. Robert Britain, the present Secretary, succeeded Mr. Reed in the office, and was subsequently appointed Manager, Robert Blair, Esq., was made President but a short time
since. The price of gas up to 19th June 1877, was $3.00 per thousand feet.
The Burland Desbarats Lith. Co. Montreal
BURNT DISTRICT, SHOWING GAS HOUSE CHIMNEY AND SMOKING RUINS, TAKEN FROM LOWER COVE.
Photo by G. F. Simonson.
One hundred thousand feet of gas were in the holder's close, and the flames not a block away. The direst danger was imminent, and an explosion terrible in its character might occur at any minute. No one can say how many lives might have been lost, or how much valuable property destroyed. No provision had been made to prevent this blow-up, when Mr. Robert Britain with a prudence and forethought wonderful in a time like the present, sought the President and pointed out to him the vast extent of the danger which was so near. Mr. Blair immediately gave Mr. Britain full charge, who notwithstanding that his own private residence was being burned before his eyes, and his furniture and books, wholly uninsured, were being swept away, stuck to his post like a hero and averted a calamity, which might have resulted in the instant death of hundreds of people. Such grand conduct as this deserves more than a mere mention. Words are weak rewards for such conduct.
The Burland Desbarats Lith. Co. Montreal
WESTERN SIDE OF CITY, TAKEN FROM LOWER COVE, SHOWING RUINS OF GAS WORKS.
Photo. by Simonson.
Leinster Street was burned wholly, both sides down to Pitt Street where the fire ceased, excepting one house, on either side which were spared. The whole of East King Street, south side, from the jail to Pitt Street, Princess Street both sides to Pitt Street were all destroyed. Mr. J. S. Turner's walls in Princess Street remain in fair condition, but the house is totally gutted. Orange Street fared the same fate. The handsome residences of A. C. Smith, H. D. Troop, J. A. Venning and J. W. Hall, Esqs., were devoured early by the
flames. On Sydney Street two churches suffered severely. Both of these were of the Presbyterian faith, St. David's (Free) and the Reformed Presbyterian Kirk. The former situate in Sydney Street, was built in 1850, and Rev. Dr. Thompson, afterwards an eminent divine of New York, was its first pastor, and preached the opening sermon in the new kirk. Before the kirk was erected, this body worshipped in the old St. Stephen building, King Square, and Dr. Thompson preached there when the congregation gathered. The Rev. Wm. Ferrie, at one time editor of a little journal called The Protestant, was the second minister, and on his retirement from his charge, he was succeeded by the Rev. Neil McKay, and Mr. Ferrie went to New York. Mr. McKay was followed by the present pastor, the Rev. Dr. David Waters, whose loss in the fire was very large, the greater part of his library having been burned. The Doctor was away at the time in Halifax, and only reached the city when all was lost.
The Rev. A. McL. Stavely is the senior Presbyterian clergyman of St. John. He came to the city in the ship Eagle, August 3rd, 1841, having been ordained minister at Kilbrought, Ireland, June 12th, of the same year. On the 7th of August, 1841, he preached his first sermon in the first Reformed Presbyterian Church which was then in the building in Lower Cove, opposite the Public Schools, known as the Wheeler property. He was the first minister of that denomination who came to the city, and has continued ever since in charge of this body. In 1850, the Lower Cove Church was sold, and has been since used for
manufacturing purposes. The church on the corner of Princess and Sydney Streets, and which was burned, was erected in 1850. The house adjoining and which was originally intended as a parsonage, was purchased by Mr. Stavely, as his private house, and he has been living in it for twenty-seven years. In 1870, at a cost of $2,000, the basement of the church was excavated, and a fine new hall for general purposes was made. By the fire Mr. Stavely loses heavily, and his library, the accumulation of many years, was destroyed.
Probably, the greatest wreck of the day was the destruction of the costly and splendid new Victoria School—a building which presented a massive front, and occupied a commanding position on the corner of Duke and Sydney Streets. This was the edifice which many who lived up the street as far as Carmarthen Street firmly believed would act as a barrier to the flames, and keep off the fire from their houses. Some so implicitly believed this that until the high walls fairly bent over, not an effort was made to remove even a picture from the rooms. O, said the householders on Upper Duke street, that immense pile will never burn; we are safe enough. But the proud edifice where a thousand children received daily a free education, did burn, and the sight though terrible, was one of the most impressive of the day. Now there was hurrying and packing in three score houses at once, and loud cries to teamsters and shrieks to servants and porters rent the air. Those, who talked the loudest before the school was in ashes, exhibited the greatest despair when they saw
what they believed up to this moment to be their surest safeguard, encircled in the fury of the flames, going down before their eyes. First the wood-work around the sashes gave way, and lights shot from half a hundred windows, and the crash of glass as it was hurled to the pavement showed that the great fire had abated not a jot. The hot slates on the roof came down the giddy height in scores, and one man pinned to the earth by a falling slate was carried away insensible of pain but with a two-inch wound upon his scalp. The flames crackled for a while and then the dull, heavy sound of weighty bodies falling inside sent a shudder through the waiting, watching crowd below. The woodwork snapped and sang in the blaze, and the great stones on the windows and cornices crumbled into fragments. And still the watchful and waiting crowd stood in the street, straining their eyes trying to look through the smoke, and seemingly unable to comprehend it all. It was only a building that was burning after all. Only another splendid edifice to add to the total of this day's fell work. Yes, this was the last, surely it might be spared. But the despoiler would not leave one. All, all must be swept away in the general scourge.
As the last vestige of the school-house went down all hope for the city passed away from men's minds. If that strong building could go so easily, where would the fire end. Men who had lost their stores and houses wandered about aimlessly, surveying the work of sorrow that was
going on so unceasingly and relentlessly. It was a hopeless thing now to try to save anything.
The Victoria School-house, of which an illustration is given, was begun in the spring of 1875, and was occupied in the following May. Messrs. McKean & Fairweather made the design, and it was erected under their supervision, by Messrs. Flood & Prince. It cost $46,000; heating, $4,000. The workmanship and materials employed in its construction were of the most substantial character. The foundation was on piles, capped with Georgia pine; and the basement above ground was faced with granite. The fronts were of pressed brick, relieved with Preston bands, window heads and cornices. The slope of the roof was slated and the deck was gravel roofed. The building was 82 feet on Duke Street and 68 feet on Sydney Street, three stories with high French roof, and a basement 12 feet high. The basement contained two play-rooms, janitor's apartments and furnaces and fuel. The 1st, 2nd and 3rd floors contained four rooms each, 28 x 32, with clothes-rooms and teachers' closets. The top floor had two rooms, 26 x 30, and a large Exhibition Hall, 16 feet high, 26 x 75. These rooms were separated by folding doors and could be thrown into one room on occasion. The building was heated by hot water, and ample provision was secured for ventilation by means of tubes carried between the floors and entered through a main central shaft through the centre of which the wrought iron smoke pipe was carried. A central projection on Duke Street of 4 x 24 feet was brought up as a tower, above the main roof and finished with a steep high roof. This
roof and the main roof were finished with a cast iron cresting. The lot was enclosed with a neat iron railing set in a free stone wall. The school-house was well equipped with furniture.
VICTORIA SCHOOL HOUSE, CORNER OF DUKE AND SYDNEY STREETS.
In Duke Street the meeting-house of the Disciples of Christ (Christians) was situate. This church was built of wood and of course burned very rapidly. The members had their first place of worship in Charlotte Street where Mr. Jack's buildings were. About twenty years ago they removed to this building in Duke Street. Brother Tuttle was the first pastor and Mr. Eaton was the second, Bro. Patterson the next, and Elder Geo. W. Garrity was the fourth and last. A few years ago a division took place in the church, and a new edifice was built at the head of Jeffrey's Hill, and about half of the members of the old congregation linked their fortunes with the new order of things.
The old Madras School on the south side of Duke Street, and the Roman Catholic School-house on Sydney Street, adjoining the Victoria School and which was formerly taught by the Christian brothers were burned also.
CHAPTER IX.
Queen Square—Incidents in the Burning—The Old Pitcher—"God is burning up the World, and He won't make another"—Saved from the flames—Overtaken by Fire three times—The Night of Terror on Queen Square—Alone amidst Perils—The Lone House on the Square—Three People under a Table—The sailor—"If I Die to-night sir, hunt them up"—The escape—The Deserted Streets—An Anomaly—The Marine Hospital—What a few Buckets of Water Did—The Wiggins Orphan Asylum—The block in Canterbury street—The News office—Savings Bank.
Some of the most terrible incidents of the fire took place during the burning of Queen Square. The flames carrying away Mr. Manson's residence on the corner of Sydney Street and the square, had entered Mr. A. L. Palmer's house soon afterwards, and then the whole block was hurried to destruction. The square was filled with the savings of the people, not alone of those who lived hard by, but many things were here that had been carried to the vacant space from a long distance early that day. There was bedding in abundance, and all round about little heaps of general household stuff lay guarded by women and boys. This for a time was the haven of safety, and the broad field looked like a vast warehouse. Chairs and bedsteads and even stoves and old pipes were piled in hopeless confusion one upon the other. In the hurry people had taken that which they had seen first, and the common things of the kitchen were saved while the rich furniture of the drawing-room was left to perish. A man congratulated
himself upon saving an old tub and a dipper, while the books in the library lay untouched save by the fire, and private papers that he could easily have slipped into his pocket, burned before his
eyes. A lady told her husband to be careful and take a bag which contained the massive silver plate of her family for a century, and in the moving it was found that he had saved the rag-bag instead. A man who had been a prosperous merchant lost his all, and the little savings he had scraped together in a decade of years seemed to melt before him, but he that night knelt and thanked his God that his wife and child were by his side. These treasures were near him and all else might go. He had his strong and willing hands still left, and a firm spirit, and though for a while he would miss the little comforts he had been accustomed to, yet would he battle with the world again, and in the coming years try to win back some of the fruits he had lost. Men in the excitement knew not what to take first, and pianos were thrown out of three-story windows, while carpets that had worn worthily and well till they had become heir-looms in the family, were carefully borne down stairs on the broad shoulders of stout porters. A thousand human beings stood in the square watching the flames lashing the buildings before them. John Boyd, Esq's residence, one of the handsomest buildings in the city, richly furnished and equipped with costly books, was attacked on both sides, and soon forced to yield and go down like the less substantial buildings at its side. The house of G. B. Cushing, Esq., was of wood, and it was not
long before the site on which it stood was level with the ground. Before the house of Mr. E. L. Jewett, once the home of the late Dr. Gray, had taken fire, a gentleman tried to save it by standing on the roof and dashing a pitcher of water on the sparks as they caught vulnerable spots. For an hour or more he stood there with his pitcher, when it became evident to him that no effort that he could make would save the building, and he got down, leaving the pitcher standing on a ledge of the chimney. The fire shortly afterwards burned the building, and left the long chimney standing against the sky; and the next day when the spot was visited, and people walked over the heap of ashes that had once been a household, all that was saved was the old pitcher, that still stood on the ledge of the chimney solitary and alone. It told the story of the desolation more eloquently than tongue of orator could speak, or pen of a Macaulay could describe. The house of ex-Mayor Woodward, with its hundreds of curiosities and old relics, including Major André's gun and a score of Continental dollars, caught in the rear, and lived but a few minutes in the flames. But so it was all round the square. When Mrs. Stevenson's strong house was going to pieces, a flock of pigeons hovering near it were drawn in by the heat; they whirled about for an instant, turned and rushed into the vortex, and perished in a second. A cat, maddened and wild, cut off from all escape, dashed along, when the fire pursued her, and she stood still. On Thursday morning she was still standing in the same place. Her frame only could be seen, with
head up and tail erect; it was a ghastly sight. It was during the conflagration on the square, that a little child, five years old, sat by the window of his grandfather's house, then in fancied security, and looked out at the flames. The little fellow for awhile could not speak. He became pale with terror, and with a loud cry he burst out with this thought: "O, pa, pa, come and see! God is burning up the world, and He won't make another, and He won't make another!" It was in vain they tried to pacify him, he still continued his cry, and it was only when far away from the dreadful scene which roused so strangely his youthful imagination, that he became calm.
VIEW FROM QUEEN SQUARE.
But there were other incidents in this quarter of the city which deserve more than a passing notice. There were deeds of heroism done and hours of agony endured that should be recorded and remembered. There were exploits exhibiting a broad humanity and great self-sacrifice performed, that should not be forgotten or go down unrecognised. We had heroes in our midst that night, and the man who climbed three stories of a house enveloped in the flames, and snatched the sleeping infant from its crib, and brought her safe to her agonized mother in the square below, is as surely as brave as "he who taketh a city," or marches against the invader of his country. If there are decorations of honour to be given, let them be bestowed on those noble ones who saved lives that day. A case has come under the writer's notice which deserves the fullest publicity. Mr. D. R. Munro, after working at John McDougall's place in York Point for some time, and
then going to the assistance of an old lady who was striving to save her bedding, started for Lower Cove in the direction of Mr. Tucker's house. On his way he noticed with alarm the extraordinary headway which the fire was making. Trinity and St. Andrew's were on fire, and the Victoria Hotel just catching. Some of the streets were so blocked up with people, and thick with flame and smoke, that he could not pass them. He had to go through Chipman's field, but he could not get further along Prince William Street. Germain Street was the only way open to him, and by this thoroughfare he journeyed till he reached Queen Square. Here Mrs. Freeman, the rigger's wife, was gathering together her scattered effects, when her little children raised the cry, "Quick, quick, mother's on fire! Save my mother!" Mr. Munro and a companion rushed in, seized Mrs. Freeman, wound a carpet about her, and tried to smother the flames with their hands. As soon as the carpet was removed from her person, the fire again seized her, when her clothes had to be torn from her and she was rolled on the grass with a table-cloth wrapped tightly around her. This saved her life, and she escaped the awful death which seemed so imminent. Mrs. Tucker's house was by this time in great danger, the leaping flames were expected momentarily to snatch it from its base, and people were beginning to get the furniture away before the shock came. For a moment Mr. Munro lay on the grass, unable to resume his exertions. He had worked from three in the afternoon till it was nearly eight o'clock, and with hands and face burned he
rested on the grass. But his rest was of short duration, for on looking up a sight met his eyes which filled his soul with horror. Mrs. Tucker's house was on fire and she herself seemed in the very heart of the flames. He almost flew to her, the courage of the lion and the quickness of Mercury seemed to come to him all at once, and he was by her side in an instant. Three times her bonnet caught, and as often was the blaze extinguished. Mrs. Tucker seemed deaf to all requests of her friends, who in vain entreated her to go away and leave her house and furniture to their fate. She still remained by the few things she had borne away, and it was after eight o'clock before she sought a place of safety. A sailor was working in the cellar of her house, passing the things he managed to lay hands on through the window. He was not aware of his danger, for when he had got in, the flames were a good distance off, and when he was discovered the house was on fire. In a few moments, it would come crushing down and bury him in the ruins. Mr. Munro hastened to his relief. Through his labours the man was rescued, for he had not been out a hundred seconds, when, in a mass of ruins, the house came tumbling down. The sailor, who gave his name as Robert Angus, 2nd officer of the ship "Asiana," sought with Mr. Munro a refuge in the square, for all hope of getting away by any of the streets was cut off. Both sides of Charlotte Street and Sydney Street were on fire, and from St. Andrew's Street all means of exit were away. The two men stood on the square and looked around them. Strange emotions filled their
breasts. They were alone, standing in the centre of one of the greatest conflagrations they had ever seen. All round them the giant flames gathered, and closer and closer, and narrower and narrower the circle became. The Pagoda in their rear was blazing. The posts here and there burned at the tops, like so many huge candles. Not a soul was to be seen on the square but themselves. The streets were deserted. Every one had fled. The little nests of scattered effects burned on every side of them, and the stench from smouldering feathers and domestic animals who died by the score, was intolerable. Neither man for some minutes spoke. Both looked out into the night. One can guess what thoughts entered their heads. The advancing fire interrupted their reveries, and as they could not escape from the plain in which they were imprisoned, they looked about them for means of preservation from the intense heat, which became greater at every moment. An old pine table was brought up to the camping ground they had selected. A headstone of marble that was lying at their feet, was placed at the head of it, and a carpet was wrapped around them. In this primitive wigwam the men resolved to pass the night. The prospect before them was gloomy enough. Just before getting into this cabin, an old woman came hobbling up towards them, crying aloud for help. They invited her to share their kennel. She accepted the invitation and the three refugees watched the flames on every side of them for two hours. There was silence for a while when the sailor, who all through had exhibited such nerve and cool
ness, now showed signs of trepidation and fear. He began to talk of his home in England, of his wife and children, and the strong man who could do so much for others, fairly broke down and wept bitter tears. "Who will take care of them now, sir," he broke out with a wail. "If I die to-night, hunt them up and tell them how I died. It is not for myself I feel, but for them, poor bodies. You know my name and ship, sir, any of my mess-mates will know what to do if you tell them what became of poor Bob Angus." It would indeed move a sterner heart than Mr. Munro's, to hear a man like this talk in a way like that. The sailor who had breasted the billows of the ocean so long that he had begun to look upon them as his playthings, crouched that night in his little box in Queen Square, weeping for the loved ones at home, far, far away. Mrs. Donovan who sat beside the sailor tried to cheer him up, but it was useless, and her words of comfort only made him feel worse and writhe in greater agony.
At last, for there is an end to all things, a bold sortie was proposed, and each of the prisoners sought to force a way out of their natural prison. Each took a direction, and in the dead of that awful night they made their way. The hydra-head of the monster ruin withered them at every turn. Giant walls fell crumbling at their feet, and the fire flashed and the flames flickered on the heaps of debris which they encountered on the sideways of their journey. Not a soul could be seen in the streets. They met no living thing. The silence was as terrible to them as it is to the lonely pilgrim of the forest, or the traveller in the distant
arctic, who shrieks ever and anon lest he go mad from the effect of that awful solitude. When the parties met at the corner they separated and each groped his way homeward through the desert of desolation. Mr. Munro's loss is very heavy. In working for others he neglected his own interests, and many of his personal effects have passed away.
On St. James Street, two buildings stood. One was a very massive and very beautiful structure, of no precise form of architecture, but very chaste and elegant for all that. The other was an old wooden barn-like house that had been decaying for years, and was only waiting to be torn down by some passing high wind. These two buildings were situate within a stones throw of each other, and the one could have been saved just as well as the other. A little nerve, a little will, and a few pails of water would have done the work. The Marine Hospital was built in a garden. It was a useful sort of affair in its day, but it had long ago done all the good that was expected of it. Its day was past, and it must soon have given way to a fine brick structure, to be located on its site. When the fire came tearing along, decimating the buildings in every block, Mr. Barnes, the keeper, and a few of the inmates stationed themselves in good positions, and began a vigorous defence of the old place. A number of well directed buckets of water, plied rapidly when the fire showed itself, was all that these men did, and the old building was saved. The fire was stubborn, for it tried a hundred times to gain a foothold, but the men who defended the hospital
were just as indomitable, and the defence was a great success. The hospital now stands in all its grim shabbiness and ugliness, though a barn near by, filled with goods of all kinds, including a piano, of course, perished. People from a distance, who came days afterwards to witness the desolation, ask with amazement why this great house was saved, and the noble charity almost opposite, was allowed to burn. But it is hard to always fathom the short-sightedness of man. All praise is due to Mr. Barnes and his assistants, for saving even one public building, and it is a pity his example could not have been followed opposite, when the Wiggins Orphanage caught. Only one man was left in charge, and it is not expected that he could do everything in a time when all were at their wits' end and full of excitement. This splendid charity was instituted in 1867, and was founded by the late Stephen Wiggins. It was opened July 1, 1876, and erected at a cost of $80,000. Mr. Wiggins left this magnificent sum for a male Orphan Asylum, under certain provisions. These were, that each child to be admitted must be born in the City and County of St. John, preference always to be shown to fatherless children of mariners; the children must be not under the age of four nor over ten years at the time of admission, and not to be continued in the institution after reaching the age of fifteen years. No teacher could be employed who was a Unitarian, Universalist or Roman Catholic, and no Governor could act in that capacity if he were of that belief. The Governors consisted of nine gentlemen. Those at the time of the incorporation were,
the Rev. William Scovil, Charles Merritt, Frederick
A. Wiggins, Hon. John W. Weldon, Beverley Robinson, J. D. Lewin, Geo. C. Wiggins, Henry W. Frith, and the Rector of St. James' Church. When the building burned, there were twelve orphans in the Asylum, but they were safely rescued and sent to Long Island. The present Board consists of the following gentlemen: Chas. Merritt, Hon. J. D. Lewin, Rev. Wm. Armstrong, Rev. W. Scovil, Hon. J. W. Weldon, Geo. Sidney Smith, B. L. Peters, H. W. Frith Rev. F. Brigstocke, with James U. Thomas, as Secretary. At a meeting of the Governors, held on Monday, the 2nd July, it was decided to rebuild the Institute very soon. The reader will notice from the cut which is given of the Orphanage, that it presented a very pretty front, and was exceedingly well built.
In Mecklenburg Street, all that fine block of buildings on the north side, beginning with the residence of Mr. John R. Armstrong, and followed by Mr. John W. Nicholson's castle, the houses of the Messrs. Magee and others; on the south side Mr. Vaughan's well-built house, and on the corner the Stevenson property, mentioned just now, burned very readily. Mr. John Magee's family escaped with their lives only.
CANTERBURY ST., SHOWING RICHIE'S BUILDING IN THE DISTANCE.
Photo. by G. F. Simonson.
The fire in Canterbury Street levelled a block of buildings that were the boast of the city. They were built with great care and especially designed for the great wholesale trade which was done there. The street is a narrow one and runs from King Street to Princess Street, and is crossed by a small alley called Church. Of late years
the street has grown from a comparative by-way or short cut, to an extensive wholesale stand, where merchants of large means and good business capacity have met their clients and customers. The stocks kept in these spacious warehouses have ever been large, and the appliances with which the stores were supplied actually made business a luxury. The centre building was erected and occupied by the Hon. Thomas R. Jones, wholesale dry goods merchant. His shirt factory was situate opposite, next door to the Printing House of McKillop & Johnston, who used to print The Weekly Watchman. The second pile was built by the same merchant for Messrs. W. H. Thorne & Co., wholesale hardware merchants, and the building on the south of the present edifice, was erected by The North British and Mercantile Insurance Company, Henry Jack, Esq., agent, and leased to Messrs. Everitt & Butler, wholesale dry goods merchants. Mr. Jack's office was in this building also. The Daily News' office was between the latter and the Savings Bank. It was erected some twenty years ago by the present Queen's printer and former proprietor of the Daily News—the first penny paper—George E. Fenety, Esq. The present proprietors, Messrs. Willis & Mott, purchased it last September. This year they made several improvements on it, enlarged it in the rear and improved the inside. They had begun work on the ground flat when the fire changed the aspect of affairs. All that was saved were three pages of type, and the late fyles of the paper. These were carried as far as Reed's Point, and were only considered safe when they reached water mark.
The building was of brick. The offices were down stairs and consisted of accountant's room, editor's office and reporters' room.[O] The Savings' Bank on the corner of Princess and Canterbury Streets was a building of singularly handsome proportions. It was built in the year 1859, by the St. John County Provident Society, which up to this time had an office in the old Commercial Bank building. In 1872, the Dominion Government took it off their hands, had it renovated thoroughly and changed, and commenced operations in it in 1873, as a Dominion Savings' Bank. The Assistant Receiver-General and Dominion Auditor had offices in the bank. Matthew Stead was the architect. The old Post Office in this street was leased a few months ago to The Paper Company, who had it repaired and well furnished. In the upper story The Watchman office was located. Messrs. Bowes & Evans' large stove establishment, and John Vassie & Co's wholesale dry goods house, entrance on Canterbury Street, were greedily devoured. The little street suffered severely, for it represented a very large sum of money. Two well-known institutions were also burned here, Conroy's hair-dressing establishment and McGinley's barber-shop.
The Burland Desbarats Lith. Co. Montreal
BANK.
Photo. by G. F. Simonson.