OF THE
FIRE IN THE TOWN OF PORTLAND,
SATURDAY MORNING, 20TH OCTOBER, 1877.
Just four months after the great calamity in St. John, the people of the Town of Portland were called upon to endure a hardship of almost equal dimensions. In one sense their endurance demanded even greater strength, for their trouble came, not in summer when the grass was green, and the air was soft and balmy, but in the very heart of a New Brunswick Fall, when the wind pierced the coarsest garment, and the ground was white with frost. It was in the small hours of the morning too, that men and women, half asleep and palsied by terror, rushed wildly into the street, shivering with cold and trembling with fear, as they heard the mad bell tolling the alarm. They lived in the merest tinder boxes, and in many of these were domiciled three, and sometimes four and five families. It was a fire of terrible importance, and at one time the destruction of the whole town was feared. But
the lesson which the fire of June 20th taught had a salutary effect on the people, and, aided by a brave band of firemen, they made every effort to stay the onward march of the flames, and in this, success was partly attained. The fire destroyed seven blocks of buildings, and threw into the street two hundred and ninety-five families, which numbered, in the aggregate, fully three thousand persons. Of buildings swept away, there were ninety-seven dwelling houses, the Methodist Church and the Temperance Hall. The actual loss is estimated at two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and the insurance scarcely reaches the sum of seventy thousand dollars. One man suffered a horrible death, and a number of people were injured more or less seriously. The fire was indeed a sore and bitter trial, and had it not been that the community had only a short time before experienced the horrors of the greater conflagration, the present calamity would have ranked as one of the great fires of Canada. Coming so soon after the St. John's scourge, men failed to realize at once the magnitude of destruction which it caused. But those who had twice passed through the flames knew to their cost, and realized in an instant, what it was to be burned out a second time. Seven hundred persons from the burnt district of St. John's had taken up their residence in the suburban town. They were in most cases poor in a pecuniary sense, but their bands were strong, and their hearts were not downcast. The flames had carried away all their earthly possessions, and they found
themselves the day after the fire comparatively penniless. But there was work to do, and these men and women sternly resolved to do it. They removed to Portland, secured quarters there, and had just completed their arrangements for the winter, when this fresh trouble broke out, and once more they found themselves, with twenty-three hundred others, in the street without a home, and no sheltering roof over their heads. Their lot was indeed a sad one, and no wonder is it, that some of them were loud in complaint, and that many, women walked down from Fort Home that day, and wept bitterly at the heartrending sight which met their eyes. They saw desolation on the plain below, and tall chimneys kept watch and ward over a field of smouldering embers. The steam engines still continued to play on the dying flames, though the sixth hour of the fire had long since passed away, and men in command hurried along the streets now giving orders, and now working with the rank and file, striving to save what remnants of property yet remained unburned, and caring for the immediate needs of sufferers.
The fire broke out at a quarter to three o'clock in the morning, and originated in a wood-house in the centre of the block, between Main and High Streets. This wood-house was in the rear of Henry Pratt's house, and as fire had been discovered in this locality, twice recently, many believed that it was the fiendish work of an incendiary. The fire spread with great rapidity, though there was little wind at the time, and by three o'clock the entire block,
Main Street on the north, Chapel Street on the south, Acadia Street on the east, and Portland Street on the west was one mass of flame. In another hour the fire raged more violently, and was extending to the lower streets. The firemen, who were early on the spot, worked with untiring energy, and displayed almost superhuman endurance and wonderful courage. Aid from the city came very soon after the fire was observed, and the new contingent also worked with admirable nerve, and exhibited splendid skill in preventing the conflagration from spreading. Members of the Town Council, with Chairman Henry Hilyard at their head, made extraordinary efforts to keep the flames back, and indeed the whole arrangements for fighting the fire were excellently conceived and well carried out.
At five o'clock the fire had reached its height. The blocks from Main Street to High Street, inclusive, were completely obliterated, and only gaunt chimneys remained. From High Street to the very water's edge the flames sped on unresisted. Camden Street was burning, the large houses on the foot of Portland Street, the houses from Temperance Hall, in Simonds Street to Thomson's slip were consumed. Rankin's wharf with immense piles of dressed lumber was threatened with immediate extinction. The steamers "Ida Whittier," "Xyphus," and "Victor," were for a time in danger. Three tug boats arrived opportunely, and the water which they threw saved the wharf and lumber. At half-past eight the fire was subdued.