The position was fairly high and central, and the flames and ruddy glow in the sky were visible in all parts of London; even at that hour spectators rushed in numbers to the scene and crowded the surrounding streets. It was with difficulty that the police could prevent them from forcing themselves into even dangerous situations.
The heat was intense, and as far off as the other side of the spacious square it struck unpleasantly to the face. The flames darted high in the air as if in triumph, and the huge rolling clouds of smoke became illumined by the brilliant light. Several notable buildings in the neighbourhood stood out clearly in the vivid glow as though in the splendour of a gorgeous sunset, while high amid the towering flames stood the picturesque Oriental minarets of the building as though determined not to yield.
The firemen endured a fearful time. Some stood in the windows, surrounded, it seemed, by sparks of fire. Mounting fire-escapes also, they poured water from these points of vantage into the burning building. By half-past one twenty-four steam fire-engines were at work, and at that time the brigade had only thirty-five effective steamers in the force. At about two o'clock the minarets and the roof fell in with a tremendous crash, and still the flames shot upward from the basement.
Crash now succeeded crash; girders, boxes, galleries, all fell in the general ruin. Moreover, the fire leaped out of the building, and began to attack other houses at the back. A number of small and crowded tenements existed here, and the danger of an extended and disastrous fire became very great. But the efforts of the firemen were happily successful in preventing its increase to any considerable extent.
It was while working on an escape-ladder that Berg met with his death. An escape had been placed against the building next to the front of the theatre, and he was engaged in directing the jet of water from the extended or "fly" ladder fifty feet high, when from some cause—probably the slipperiness of the ladder-rungs—he lost his footing, and crashed head-foremost to the ground.
When taken up, he was found to be insensible; and while the fearful flames were still raging, and his comrades were still at work, he was conveyed to the Charing Cross Hospital. Among other injuries which he had received was a fracture of the head; and after lingering a few days, and lapsing into long fits of unconsciousness, he died.
Not long after Berg was admitted to the hospital on that fearful night, another fireman was carried thither from the same place. This sufferer was Assistant-Officer Ashford, who arrived at the fire in charge of an engine from Southwark. He was standing behind the stage, when a wall fell upon him and crushed him to the ground. His comrades hurried to rescue him, and he was quickly taken to the hospital; but his back was found to be broken, and he had also sustained serious internal injuries. After lingering for a few hours in great pain, he died. He had been thirteen years in the brigade, and was married.
Several other accidents occurred at this great fire. At the same time that Ashford was stricken down, Engineer Chatterton, who was standing near him, was stunned, and narrowly escaped with his life. Four other firemen were also injured, one suffering from burns, one from sprain and contusions of the legs, one from falling through a skylight and cutting his hands, and one from slipping from a steam fire-engine on returning to Rotherhithe and breaking his arm. These incidents show how various are the heavy risks the firemen run in the course of their work.
When any member of the brigade dies in the execution of his duty, it has been customary to accord the body a public funeral, and Ashford's obsequies proved a very solemn and imposing ceremony. At eleven o'clock on December 14th, a large crowd assembled in Southwark Bridge Road, and detachments of officers and men had been drawn from various fire-stations, until nearly three hundred representatives of the brigade were present. A large number of policemen also joined the procession. It had a long way to traverse to Highgate Cemetery, where the burial took place. The coffin, of polished oak, was carried on a manual-engine, and covered by a Union Jack, the helmet of the deceased and a beautiful wreath subscribed for by members of the brigade being placed upon the flag. Three police bands preceded the coffin, and after it came mourning-coaches with the relatives of the deceased. Captain Shaw followed, leading, with Mr. Sexton Simonds, the second officer and the chairman of the brigade committee of the Board of Works; then came the large body of firemen with their flashing brass helmets; superintendents and engineers were also present, and the large contingent of police. Finally, followed six manual-engines in their vivid scarlet, and representatives of the salvage corps and of volunteer brigades. The procession marched slowly and solemnly, the bands playing the Dead March in "Saul." And thus, with simple yet effective ceremony, the crushed and broken body was borne through London streets to its last resting-place.