The cosy Dramatic Lyceum, endeared to old theatre-goers on account of many pleasant memories, was reduced to ashes after the fire had destroyed the marble establishments of Jas. and Robt. Milligan and S. P. Osgood. Like Robertson's stable it was not long in the throes of dissolution, for it parted company with the earth in a few brief moments. It had been built a score of years and more, and for a long time it was the chief place of amusement in the city. Its builder was the father of theatricals in St. John, and no man ever did more for his chosen profession than he. He worked with the vigour which only an enthusiast feels, and now at the close of his long managerial career, extending over a quarter of a century, he can look back with pride and satisfaction on the work he has done. He has taught the people all they know of dramatic affairs to-day. He has educated and elevated their tastes, and by the production of the great masterpieces of Shakespeare, Jonson, Massenger, Bulwer, Goldsmith and Sheridan, he has instilled into the minds of the citizens a love of all that is admirable and beautiful in our common literature. He it was, who at great pecuniary sacrifice brought such an artist as Charles Mathews
here, and it was under his management that Charles Dillon, E. L. Davenport, Frederic Robinson, Wyzeman Marshall and the famous comedian, Wm. J. Le Moyne,[L] played short engagements in our city. When the plain, but comfortable Lyceum was built, it was the first step towards a regular theatre that had been made, and in his early days Mr. Lanergan had much to contend against and many old prejudices to break down. A hundred arguments were brought to bear against his enterprise. Many good people, unskilled in the knowledge of the world, and who had never in their lives attended a theatre, were the most open in their denunciation of it and its teachings. Fathers were exhorted to keep their boys at home, and men and women were enjoined not to attend the performances in this "devil's house." But Mr. Lanergan showed his patrons that he could furnish a species of amusement harmless in its character and respectable in its quality. He selected from the wide range of plays only those which taught good lessons, and the ladies and gentlemen he secured to give utterance to the thoughts of the masters in literature, were persons of irreproachable character and conduct. He saw his efforts rewarded at length, and during the last ten years of his career his audiences comprised the elite of the city. The old Lyceum was ever a pleasant place. It was cosy and easy and roomy, and one could always see an acceptable performance on its little stage. The build
ing was sold to the Irish Friendly Society a few months ago and it was used by them for concerts, entertainments, &c. On the night of the fire it was under engagement to a minstrel party.[M]
After this temple of art was overthrown the fire burned along the square till it struck the Hazen building, now owned by C. M. Bostwick, who had but recently renovated
it from top to bottom. But this corner house was too much for the fire, the fiend was baffled in its object, and though late through the night it made several inefficient attempts to raise its head, when the morning dawned, the Hazen Building was still safe and defiant, for the flames were at its feet helpless and weak. The fire crept along the square and passed the burned district when it divided itself into two wings. The right body went up Leinster Street, and the left wing proceeded around by the square, attacked the Court House, was repulsed, when it burned the buildings adjoining No. 2 Engine House, and made a sortie in rear of the jail. It was well nigh successful in its object, and indeed a portion of this edifice was burned. The prisoners were made secure, and a grand exit took place under the immediate supervision of Deputy Sheriff Rankine. Two or three of the culprits managed to escape, but they returned next day, after wandering about the city, and gave themselves up, fearing lest they would starve in the desolate and destitute town. The jail successfully resisted the flames, but not so the old Temperance Hall which stood beside it. This antiquated and wholly unattractive meeting-house was put up about thirty years ago, and was originally intended for a school in connection with the poor-house, which stood on the corner of Carmarthen and East King Streets. The Temperance Order was organized in St. John, May 12th, 1847, and the leading men were Hon. S. L. Tilley, C.B., Lieut.-Governor of the Province, Chas. A. Everett, the Smilers, John Rankine, W. H. A.
Keans, S. B. Paterson, O. D. Wetmore, and of late years, Samuel Tufts, Edw. Willis, A. G. Blakslee, J. A. S. Mott, and Sheriff Harding. The organization met in King Street till they were burned out, after which they settled in the Temperance Hall near the jail, where they have remained ever since. The interior of this block was burned, and only the Court House, which was opened for the first time for Supreme Court uses by Judge Botsford at the January Circuit of 1830, the Registry Office, and the City Prison were left. It was only by dint of the most strenuous exertions that these buildings were kept proof against the levelling qualities of the left wing, which again and again reared its front till it was firmly laid low at eleven in the evening of that terrible day. The old poor-house in Carmarthen Street was hemmed in by the united forces of left and right, and it easily succumbed without even a show of resistance. The defence of the office of the Superintendent of Water Supply[N] was one of the memorable events in connection with the history of the fire. In the yard people from all quarters of the city had stored their goods in the vain hope that the fire could never reach them. The situation of the office seemed to promise safety. It was far away from the business portion of the town, and no one dreamed of
its being attacked from the contingent which moved along Carmarthen Street. Here at least many persons thought, was a place of safety. From four o'clock in the afternoon, while the rich row of buildings in the Market Square were struggling against overwhelming odds, load after load of furniture, merchandise and general chattels poured into the spacious yard, and even the office itself was for a time a vast warehouse. It was only when the work of the incendiary showed itself in Leinster Street and old Malachi's toppled over, that the destruction of the well-equipped office was considered imminent. Then it was that heart-sick and weary men and women, who had worked all day, and who had lost nearly all they possessed, and had hoped what little they had taken to the water-office yard would be saved, began to realize the situation. Where could they go now? Where could they take the only remnants which reminded them of the bright home they had had that morning. Twice had they gathered up the fragments, and in each removal the little heap grew smaller than before. But it was worse now. In the afternoon teams could be had for five dollars a load, and now as high as thirty, and even fifty dollars were refused by inhuman drivers. Calamities sometimes make barbarians of men, and the nearer the flames got, and the hotter the breath of the fire became, the more exorbitant was the price asked by owners of vehicles, and the more inhumanity mankind exhibited. Women cried and groaned as they fell on all that was left, and some begged
piteously for help. But when they got a dray or a sloven, where could they go? The wild behemoth could overtake them where'er they went. But on came the fire, both sides of the street, back again by Carmarthen Street, up by Carmarthen Street. Here the force united, and crushing out all before it, drove with tremendous energy and iron-like rigour into the very heart of the building. In an instant it was on fire in ten places, and the huge pipes alongside that looked so like an array of mounted cannon, were all that remained in the yard the next day. The blacksmith shop, oil-house, stable, and everything near showed scarcely a trace of what they had been. The great bulk of the valuable records, papers and plans and specifications of the office were saved through the untiring vigilance of the superintendent, his valuable aids and the workmen in the employ of the Company. Nothing, indeed, that could not be replaced in a little time was lost.
In this connection, a brief sketch of the water supply of St. John will not be without interest. It is only half a century ago that the inhabitants of this city were dependent on wells for the water which they drank and used. Even at later date than that it used to be sold about the streets from tall casks, at a penny a bucketful. The chief wells were in King's Square, Blockhouse Hill—the vantage ground of many a well-contested fisticuff battle between the rising generation; Princess Street, near Charlotte; Queen Square, the foot of Poor House Hill, which in winter made such a splendid coasting road; and in Portland close by the first public hydrant, now in