FOOTNOTES:
[O] The first steam press in the Maritime Provinces was started in the Morning News building, then situated directly on the south end of what is now called Canterbury Street, but which was not then opened.
CHAPTER X.
Incidents—An Old Corner Burned Down—The Lenders and Borrowers—"Twenty per Cent."—The Shylocks of the Curbstone—The Human Barometer—The Vultures of Commerce—Chubbs' Corner—The Old Commercial Bank—The Telegraph Office—The Bank of New Brunswick—A Hard Worked Cashier—The Post Office—Not a Mail Lost—Quick Despatch—The Nethery House and the Orangemen—The Royal Hotel—The Custom House—The Dead of the Conflagration.
Beyond all question the successful resistance to the flames at the residence of James H. Moran, Esq., at Chipman's Hill, prevented the spread of the fire to the northern portion of the city. That house was attacked with great fury from front and rear, but the extraordinary and well applied labours of Mr. Joseph Dunlop, and his crew of workmen from the shipyard, aided by the city firemen, kept the flames at bay. The window sashes caught several times, and the men finding neither timber nor axes, boldly grasped the sashes with their naked hands, and despite some severe burning to themselves, they succeeded in tearing them away. This saved the building and stopped the spread of the flames along Union Street and beyond it. Mr. Moran was at his summer residence in St. Martin's during the conflagration, but on hearing of the calamity he hastened home, and made the journey of 32 miles, it is said, in two hours and forty-five minutes. While the fire was in Mill Street, a bright little fellow of thirteen, named Johnny Law, performed an
act of considerable heroism and thoughtfulness. His employer, Mr. W. H. Gibbon, had gone to Grand Lake about two days before the fire, and left his establishment in charge of this boy, who had the forethought when he saw the flames coming near the store to save the books and papers. The flooring above his head fell while he was getting out, but by crawling on his hands and knees, he managed to effect his release from a captivity that would soon have resulted in certain death. Besides this he saved a number of articles from the house, and saw to the successful removal of Mrs. Gibbon and her young children.
The Burland Desbarats Lith. Co. Montreal
PRINCE WILLIAM STREET.
The Burland Desbarats Lith. Co. Montreal
PRINCE WILLIAM STREET.
Photo. by G. F. Simonson.
There was great ruin in Prince William Street after the fire. A good deal of the wealth of the city, and some of the chief buildings of the place were situate here. The destruction of the Imperial Building belonging to the Messrs. Magee, and which was occupied by them and Messrs. Maclellan & Co., the bankers, was but the work of a few moments. A large quantity of valuable merchandise likewise perished, and the newly commenced block of buildings adjoining exhibited even a vaster extent of ruin than it did on the night of the last great fire which raged in this locality, and which cost the city seven lives.[P] Mr. Robert Marshall's insurance office, on the corner of the Market Square, and indeed the whole of Prince William Street, both sides clear to Reed's Point, were reduced to ashes and debris. Jardine's grocery store, Messrs. Wis
dom & Fish's belting and heavy goods establishment, Benson's millinery store, Steeves, Bros., J. & J. Hegan & Co's., Beard & Venning, The Devebers, James R. Cameron & Co., W. H. Hayward & Co., George Philp's banking house, and Chubb's book store on the one side, were as completely wrecked as the row of stores on the eastern part of the street which contained Barnes & Co's. book-store, Peiler's piano warehouse, and Professor Devine's music store, the splendid book and publishing establishment of Messrs. J. & A. McMillan, which was first built in 1831, and was afterwards burned in one of the great fires which succeeded that year, and, about 1842, was rebuilt in the shape in which the fire found it the other day, the insurances offices of H. R. Ranney, Lawton's drug store, Stevenson's shoe-shop, Valpey's, Sheraton & Skinner's carpet warehouse, Simeon Jones & Co's., Eastern Express, Francis', and Z. G. Gabel's corner store.
Chubb's Corner—the home of the curb stone broker, and the place where more gossip has been talked during the last forty years than would furnish the stock-in-trade of forty well-organized sewing circles—was an early victim, for it went down with Furlong's palace about the hour of six. The mention of Chubb's Corner awakens a thousand memories. For many years it enjoyed the distinction of being the great centre of commercial speculation. Men came here to meet men who had money to lend, and those who had none came to borrow it. Stocks and merchandise changed hands on this spot a dozen times a day, and the cautious bill-broker who
never had any funds of his own to lend, came here to scent the financial air. In this cheerful spot money was subject to the fluctuations of the market with a vengeance. The rate—aye, there's the rub—"if we can only agree about that," said the note-shaver, "I think I may take the paper. 'The man is a good man,'" he continued, unconsciously quoting Shakespeare, "and I think I may take his bond," and though nothing was said about the pound of flesh in the event of the notes not being paid at maturity, the modern Shylock meant it all the same, and was as equally determined to get it, too, as the old gentleman we see on the stage rubbing his hands together, and making horrible faces at the audience and the Christian merchant Antonio. The rate in this grim corner was not measured by the consciences of the money-lenders, but by the necessities of the applicant. One could tell in a much less expensive way than by borrowing money of these gentry, whether they were getting a good price for their coin or not, by simply watching their faces during the operation. The face of the note-shaver is a barometer. It requires no regulating and it is always correct. There, quick, watch it now. See how long the face is. No, he has no money himself, but—Ah, that's it, now watch. See, observe the countenance, listen to
that chuckle? Yes, what is he chuckling about? Oh, that's nothing, only habit; now the face is hanging up again, and it is ready for observation. The lender is telling the borrower how difficult it is to get money, and how much Smith had to pay for a thirty days' loan yesterday. This is of no inter
est to Jones, who is hanging on the words of Mr. Shylock as a lover drinks in the soft nothings of his mistress, but it gives the lender opportunities to find out how "hard up" his victim is. Now watch the face again. Still long and bilious-looking. Twenty per cent. is not so high. It's only five dollars off of a hundred, and look at the time three months—and it falls due on Sunday, too. You'll get a day's interest out of me for nothing, you rogue. The face is positively joyous. The eyes snap and sparkle. The countenance has become quite round and full, and there are bright spots on the cheeks. The extra day without interest did it, and the two go off arm in arm. But after all they are not happy; one has paid too much, and the other stands ready to kick himself for not having asked more. O, Chubb's Corner, you have much to answer for, and perhaps the fire did some good in staying this kind of business for a time at least on your site. But the old corner was not given over entirely to the vultures of commerce. It was the place for many years where property, stocks, debentures, bonds, and all such securities were sold at Public Auction as well as by private sale. The old Corner was a meeting place too, where men met and talked over the times and their affairs. Men stopped here on their way to the Post Office, the old Bank and the Custom House, if it was not too late, to have a friendly chat with an acquaintance. Office boys hurrying along in the leisurely hurry that office boys always employ, stopped at Chubb's Corner and looked into the windows of the Exchange office, and wondered to themselves if the
huge pile of money they saw lying about was good or not, and whether it would pass. And so the days came and the days passed away, and year in and year out, the old Corner still stood the centre of a busy hive. If those old walls could speak now, as daily, men tramp over their fallen forms, what tales could they tell, what stories of joy and sorrow might they not relate! Walls have ears and they heard much, but they could not speak and what they knew has perished with them.
The building on the Corner was put up by Mr. Chubb, shortly after he was burned out in 1839. The head of the old firm was Henry Chubb, Esq., whose father landed with the Loyalists. He succeeded in 1811 the business which had formerly been carried on by Mrs. Mott, wife of the King's Printer, for whom Mr. Chubb conducted the work of the establishment on the death of her husband. In 1842, Samuel Seeds was admitted partner in the firm together with the eldest son of Mr. Chubb, Henry J. Chubb. In 1846 the latter died and the surviving partners continued the business until the spring of 1855, when Mr. Chubb died leaving his share to Mr. Seeds and his two sons, Thos. Chubb and George James Chubb. In 1863, Mr. Seeds retired and the brothers remained in business until 1865, when G. J. Chubb bought out his brother's interest, and the firm has continued under the old style of H. Chubb & Co., ever since. An exchange office was added to the stationery and printing business during the American War.
The old Commercial Bank building which was lately
completely altered and renovated internally, was situate on the south-east corner of Prince William and Princess Streets. The corner stone was laid in 1839, and a grand Masonic demonstration took place, Rev. Dr. B. G. Gray officiating. Henry Gilbert Esq., was the President of the Commercial Bank at the time. It was used latterly for the civic offices, and the Water Commissioners had an office on the ground flat. The Daily Telegraph newspaper occupied the old wooden building adjoining, and about which notice is given in the first chapter of this history. Mr. Elder, the enterprising editor and proprietor of the paper, is a heavy loser by the fire. Not only did he lose his well-equipped printing office and appliances, his splendid reference library and collection of historic data, the gatherings of many years, but his bound fyles also, and in fact everything he possessed vanished forever.
The Bank of New Brunswick was for a long time deemed safe. It is true that the merchants hurried in with their books when the fire was still raging a quarter of a mile away, but the old building which was burned inside, exhibited after the fire, walls and pillars as strong and vigorous as they were half a century ago. The vaults preserved their contents, and millions of money were thus plucked from the burning. The old bank was an edifice in which the people took pride. It was a hale old veteran that had passed through many a disaster. When financial troubles darkened the days of the people, when the dread cholera spread disease and death in house
holds, when fires laid waste the best acres of our territory, the old bank still stood erect, and withstood the shock which threatened her on every side. It succumbed this time, but only in a partial way, for its pillars and a portion of its walls are as stalwart as of yore. In May, 1821, a general meeting was held of the stockholders of the banking company that had been organized the year before. At this meeting some honoured names were read, and the following gentlemen were present: Henry Gilbert, Hon. John Robinson, Nehemiah Merritt, Wm. Black, Ezekiel Barlow, Thos. Millidge, Ward Chipman, jr., Zalmon Wheeler, Hugh Johnston, jr., Robert W. Crookshank, Robert Parker, jr., Stephen Wiggins, and Hugh Johnston, senr. On the seventh day of May the directors were chosen, and the bank was ready for business. The first President was the Hon. John Robinson; and the other Directors for the year were Wm. Black, Ezekiel Barlow, Lewis Bliss, Ward Chipman, jr., Robert W. Crookshank, senr., Henry Gilbert, Hugh Johnston, Nehemiah Merritt, Thos. Millidge, Robert Parker, jr., Zalmon Wheeler, and Stephen Wiggins. Of these but one lives to-day, Lewis Bliss, Esq., who, at last accounts was in London, England. The Hon. J. D. Lewin was made President in 1857, and Wm. Girvan, Esq., whose great industry is proverbial, was chosen cashier, March 1st, 1862. Mr. Girvan, on taking charge of his office, at once went methodically over the old books, and in two years, by dint of untiring application, he had the full set from 1820 in shape. The books are in such excellent
condition, and so well arranged, that it is a pleasure to refer to them.
The Burland Desbarats Lith. Co. Montreal
RUINS OF BANK OF NEW BRUNSWICK.
Photo. by G. F. Simonson.
The Bayard Building, containing Mr. G. Em. Allen's office, the Attorney-General's office and others, with two stores underneath, and the new Bank of Nova Scotia building, which formerly belonged to Messrs. Andre D. Cushing & Co., were soon destroyed, together with Barnes' Hotel, which, only a few years ago, had an extension added, and was fitted up with every modern improvement. Stewart & White's large furniture warehouse and auction rooms opposite, in Smith's building, with their heavy stocks, were burned.
NEW POST OFFICE.
The destruction of the new Post Office, one of the most beautiful buildings in the city at the time of the fire, was one of the saddest spectacles of the day. It had only been opened a year, and its handsome design and rich finish had often been admired. The ornamental freestone work on the front, and the rich red granite pillars, gave the edifice a very fine appearance. The flames were twice extinguished by Mr. Parker in the tower where they made the attack first at six o'clock, at the place where the clock was to have been put. At three in the afternoon the mail matter was carefully put away in bags, and every preparation made for a speedy departure. The first load of mail bags was hauled to a place of safety, to Reed's Point, and seventeen of them were carried by hand to the fish-market wharf, where a boat was seized and sixteen of the bags put in it. The doors of the Post Office were closed to the public at five o'clock, and by
half-past six the fire had made such an onslaught that nothing could keep it away. Through the foresight of Mr. J. V. Ellis, the Postmaster, not a mail was lost, or a letter mislaid. The outgoing mails that night to the north and east, were despatched as usual, and with excellent executive skill, the Post Master was ready in a temporary office in the Market building, to deliver letters to applicants in less than twenty-four hours after the fire. In twelve hours after that the delivery system was in full working order, and in a few days merchants had the pleasure of receiving their mails in boxes of their own at the Post Office. The Registry Letter Office was ready for work, under Mr. M. J. Potter's management in a little while, and the opening of the Money Order Department's Office was not long in following. The clerks and other employes of the Post Office deserve the greatest credit for their promptness under a most trying situation, and their uniform kindness and courtesy were preserved to the last. Mr. Flaglor delivered the first and last letters at the Post Office, Prince William Street.
The old Nethery house in Church Street, where Mr. Geo. A. Knodell had his printing office, and Mr. H. L. Spencer his medical warehouse, was once the great headquarters of the Orangemen, and was built about the year 1823. It was in this building that in old times balls and parties, and dinners in connection with the order were given, and it was from here that on the famous twelfth of July, when Duncan Wilmot was Mayor, the Orange
men marched at the time of the memorable riot. Mr. Knodell has begun rebuilding on this site.
The Royal Hotel in Prince William Street, formerly Stubbs' Hotel, and for many years a leading house in the city, caught fire early in the afternoon from the sparks. The inhabitants apprehended no danger and the sparks were put out, but Mr. Waldron, Stage Manager of the Theatre, came to the conclusion that as it had taken fire once, it might soon again be stricken. He accordingly warned the others and proceeded to get his things together for a final exit. The Hotel did catch about an hour and a half after this, and all on the ground save the old tree to the left, were in ashes before night. Mr. Thomas F. Raymond succeeded Mr. McIntosh in the management of Stubbs' Hotel, and it was by him changed to the name of "The Royal." A great many public dinners and balls have been given in this house, and its spacious dining room for many years was considered one of the finest ball-rooms in the city. The last great ball given here was in 1871, in March, by St. Andrew's Society, on the occasion of the marriage of the Marquis of Lorne to the Princess Louise.
A large amount of property that had been stored away for safe keeping in the Custom House, was burned when that fine building went down. Hundreds of people believing strongly in stone and brick, sought refuge for their chattels here, and almost all available space was occupied with goods of every description. The merest trifles were saved after the building took fire, and an immense amount
of material was consumed. Even Robert Shives' collection of diaries that dated back many years was lost, as well as a considerable number of his papers in connection with the emigration office of which he was the agent. Mr. Shives was suffering from illness during the fire and was too weak to be about much. Several merchants who had sent their account books to the Custom House for safety lost them in the great destruction which followed. The building was a good strong substantial structure built about the year 1841, by the late John Walker, Esq., and designed by him as a government warehouse.[Q] He did not succeed however, in having it accepted as such by the government, and it was purchased by Mr. McLeod, of St. John, and Alexander Keith, Esq., of Halifax, and used as the Custom House. The Government of Canada bought it from George McLeod, Esq., M. P. some months ago. It was roomy and well adapted for customs purposes. When the Dominion Government took it off Mr. McLeod's hands they refitted it up completely. The storm drum and time ball and signal station were situate on the Custom House.
The Burland Desbarats Lith. Co. Montreal
RUINS OF CUSTOM HOUSE FROM NORTH END AND EAST SIDE.
Photo. by G. F. Simonson.
The International Hotel was formerly a double residence with the entrance on the second story. About twenty years ago it was enlarged and converted into an hotel under the management of Mr. A. B. Barnes, who called the house after its owner—The Lawrence Hotel. Mr. Barnes left
it some years ago and removed to his own premises nearer King Street, and Mr. R. S. Hyke, after it was modernized a little, assumed the management.
The fire in Water Street proved to be very destructive. Tisdale's corner, at the head of South wharf, and the home of the hardware business in St. John for many years; the grocery establishments of C. M. Bostwick and Geo. Robertson; John Melick's office, the ferry floats and waiting-room, as well as Adam Young's large stove warehouse and the Messrs. McCarty's place of business, were soon carried away. The good old house of Robt. Robertson & Son, that for half a century wielded great influence in the community, and whose ships to-day ride many oceans, with its stock of sails and rigging, lasted scarcely longer in the terrible heat than an hour's space. Walker's wharf and the premises in Ward street suffered greatly, and it was while trying to save his property here, that Captain William M. B. Firth lost his life. He was last seen in Prince William Street, blinded by the smoke and scorched by the flames, trying to make his way out. It is thought that finding all hope of gaining an egress from the suffocating street, he sank down in the roadside exhausted and weary, and death came to him there. His body was found the next day, but it was not until Saturday that he was fully recognised and claimed. He leaves a sorrowing wife and five grief-stricken children, who spent the terrible days of his absence in the greatest agony. There were many rumours about
Capt. Firth while he was missing. Some said that
he was all right in Carleton, others averred that he had gone away in a ship, while others again stoutly maintained that they had seen him put out to sea in a boat and that he would turn up all right. But when these tidings reached his poor wife, she always turned with a sad smile of gratefulness to those who brought her such news, in the hope that it might cheer her up, and said that her heart told her better. Her husband's place was by her side, and he knew it as well as she. What would he be doing out in a boat so long, when he did not even know whether his wife and family were alive or not; no, she never believed the rumours which came to her, thick and fast, as the hours of those anxious days went by; and when the dread news came at length, the widowed mother and her fatherless children had known it in their hearts long before.
Another terrible death was that of Mr. Samuel Corbitt, a gentleman esteemed and respected for his many good qualities, by all who knew him. He was a furniture dealer, and his store was in Prince William Street. A gentleman exchanged a few words with him while the fire was in full career. Mr. Corbitt went into his own building, to get some things and he never came back. The greatest sympathy is felt in the community for Mrs. Corbitt and family.
An old resident of the city, Mr. Joseph Bell—a painter, lived in Duke Street, where he kept his shop. On the night of the fire he went in to remove a painting it is said, but when he turned to come out he could not pass the flames, and he too perished, and was buried in the
ruins of his old home. A man named Johnson is still missing, and it is probable he lost his life in the fire. Mrs. Coughlan, Timothy O'Leary, Michael Donohoe, and Mrs. Fitzgerald, are also supposed to have lost their lives in the same sad way, and as many are still missing, the loss of life, it is expected, will be quite large. The heavy buildings came down with such rapidity after they became hot, that it is feared that a good many people were buried in the ruins, and the intense heat which followed would render them never again recognisable, even if a portion of the remains were found.
An incident has come to hand which deserves more than a passing notice. Young Johnny Murphy, a mere child, who lived with his mother in Charlotte Street, bravely jumped from the second-storey window of his residence with his younger brother in his arms. The act was that of a hero, and worthy the admiration and applause of thousands. Such bravery and heroism should indeed be rewarded. The little fellow wears his honors meekly.