Hollowdell Grange: Holiday Hours in a Country Home

by George Manville Fenn

Mr Inglis’s farm-yard was situated fully a hundred yards from the house, so that there was no danger upon that side, and, besides, the wind was very still, which prevented the flames spreading so fast as they would have done. But, unfortunately, the stacks and farm-buildings were very close together, so that it seemed very probable that the whole of the contents of the yard would fall a prey to the flames.

When the boys reached the yard, they found everything in confusion—people running up from the villages; then shouting, and ordering, and contradicting, all in a breath, and everybody in a state of the greatest excitement. The only cool person about the place seemed to be Mr Inglis, who had already despatched a mounted messenger to the town for the engine, and was now forming a line of men from the pond to the stack nearest the fire, over which, by means of ladders, a great corn sheet was laid, and this they tried to keep wet. The pails were passed quickly along, and returned empty by another row of men; but the burning stack roared and crackled, and the sparks flew up in myriads, while in the glare of light the martins and swallows could be seen flitting backwards and forwards over the flames, till one by one the poor things were suffocated, and dropped into the burning mass. An old white owl, too, showed itself, flapping its wings round the burning stack and hooting dismally, but it soon after flew off and was lost in the dark night.

The men worked hard at keeping the sheet wet, but it was of no avail, for all at once a great portion of the burning stack tell down against the one they were trying to save, and in a few minutes the great sheet and the whole of the side of the stack beneath it were in a blaze.

Mr Inglis now directed his attention to the stables at the rear, towards which the flames were travelling with inconceivable velocity, the ground being nearly covered with loose straw, across which the flames ran like wildfire. Upon running to the stable-door he found it locked, and in the crowd and confusion the horse-keeper could not be found. There was not a moment to lose, for the roof was already on fire, so a fir pole was fetched, and used battering-ram fashion, so that the big door by a few strokes was sent off its hinges. Mr Inglis then rushed in and found the place full of smoke, and the poor horses trembling with fear. There were eight in the stable, and to cut their halters was but the work of a minute. Some of them dashed out of the place as soon as released, as though mad with fear; while others stood with dripping sides, snorting and shuddering, and had literally to be dragged out.

All this while the roof was blazing away rapidly, and the hay in the loft served to make it burn more fiercely. Seven horses had been saved, but the eighth stubbornly refused to move, in spite of every effort; and at last Mr Inglis and the men with him were compelled to retreat to avoid suffocation.

Upon being a little restored, one of the men would have made another attempt, but he was stopped by Mr Inglis, who said that it would be a risk of human life that he would not allow. Just then the roof fell in with a crash, and a fearful shriek burst from the poor animal that met with so horrible a death, while the men shuddered as they looked at one another, and thought of their narrow escape.

The farm-yard now presented a dreadful scene of confusion, for poultry, pigs, and calves were running about in all directions, adding their cries to the general clamour; the pigeons flew round the place and from building to building; and everything seemed disposed to fly or run in any but the direction required of it; the men, too, appeared nearly as bad, running hither and thither without aim or purpose, and getting into danger when there was not the slightest necessity.

And now the flames roared and crackled terribly, and seemed to have gained the entire mastery. The moon had not risen, so that the dark night was lit up by the red glare, and the tall elm and beech-trees turned of a golden green as they reflected the bright light. The flames leaped from stack to stack, and from shed to shed, licking everything up, and seeming to laugh at the efforts which were made to stay their progress. The great barn full of corn was in a blaze, and the fear seemed to be that the farm-house where Mr Inglis’s bailiff lived would be the next prey of the flames. The pig-sties were all burnt down, and two unfortunate fat pigs had perished, squealing dismally; but the rest of the live stock had been saved, as also most of the farming implements: drills, ploughs, harrows, harness, carts, waggons, etc, etc, had been all dragged out of the way; but, for all that, the loss of valuable stock was terrible—unthreshed ricks of barley, oats, and wheat; hay and straw, a barn filled with sacks of grain newly threshed, and all being devoured by the flames in one short hour and a half.

The great barn was blazing furiously, and the tired men busily engaged wetting the thatch upon the gable end of the farm-house, upon which great flakes of fire kept falling; while others were hard at work dragging the furniture out of the doors and windows, and bearing it to a place of safety, when there was heard a distant “hurray,” and then came the pattering sound of galloping horses, and the rattle of wheels. The cheering was taken up by those near at hand, and in the midst of the shouting, the dark red body of the engine from Marshford dashed up to the yard. In a twinkling, the horses were detached by the men in dark uniform who had leaped off the engine, the glare all the while reflected from their brass-bound helmets—for Marshford boasted a volunteer fire brigade—and then the wheels spun round again as the engine was run down to the pond, the suction pipe screwed on, and like magic, so quickly was it done, length after length of hose joined together, till a sufficiency was obtained to reach easily the burning barn; and then the captain with the burnished copper branch screwed it to the hose, men seized the handles on each side of the engine, and at the given word—“Thud—thud; thud—thud; thud—thud,” went the powerful pumps. “Squish—squitter—squish—squish—ciss—ciss—hiss-s-s-s-s-s,” went a stream of water swift as an arrow from a bow right on to the gable of the farm-house, and deluging the thatch in a moment, from the broad red chimney-stack down to the eaves, and extinguishing every spark and flake that hung to it. How necessary this had become could be seen from the steam which arose from the thatch, which must have been in flames in a few minutes, while the brickwork actually hissed, it had grown so heated.

An occasional dash from the branch soon stayed all alarm as to the farm-house being in danger, and the captain, directing his stream of water against the burning barn, ordered his men to attach another hose-pipe and branch to the engine, so as to double the stream of water thrown upon the flames; this was soon done, and it being evident that nothing would avail to stay the progress of the fire in the ricks and sheds, which were one mass of red glow, both branches were devoted to the attack upon the big barn.