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