The Life of Sir Rowland Hill and the History of Penny Postage, Vol. 1 (of 2)

by Sir Rowland Hill; George Birkbeck Norman Hill

“Order was somewhat restored among us—as much, perhaps, as it could be under such circumstances; each of the elders among us having taken the direction of certain things, with a number of boys and others under his control, when a new cause of alarm arose. It was recollected by my mother that one of the servant girls, with a poor woman who came the day before to do some sewing, slept in the bed which I have mentioned [it was a bed in one of the roof rooms, which was occasionally used by sewing and washing women], and it was found that the girl only had escaped. I was at the front of the house giving directions respecting the procuring of water when I learnt this alarming news. I immediately ran upstairs, passed my father, who was then on his way to rescue the woman, and who generously tried to prevent my going by taking the risk upon himself; rushed through the room in which was the fire into the next, and, taking the woman from the bed, on which she lay in a fainting fit, carried her in my arms to the top of the stairs. I could do no more: although the whole was but the work of a minute, such was the effect of the alarm and of the dense smoke which I had breathed, that I loosed her, and she was caught by those who stood upon the stairs. I myself staggered down one or two steps, and should have fallen had I not been caught by one of those who stood about. A few minutes were sufficient for me to recover my strength. How the woman revived I do not know, but I saw her soon after, apparently well, watching the furniture at the front of the house.

“It afterwards appeared that the girl, awaked by the smoke, called her bedfellow, ran downstairs and alarmed those who slept on the first floor, about the same time that the discovery was made by the boy who slept under the closet, and who saw the fire as he lay in bed, through a ventilator in the ceiling which opened through the floor of the closet. The woman, instead of following her companion, actuated by one of those inexplicable motives which sometimes influence the conduct of the uneducated, remained in the room very deliberately dressing herself, and I afterwards learned that when I carried her out of the room her stays were very regularly laced. When she did attempt an escape, owing to her alarm, her want of knowledge of the arrangement of the rooms, and the density of the smoke, she was unable to find the door, and, after groping about the room some time, she said that she ‘threw herself on the bed, and gave herself up for lost.’ Next to effecting her escape, or making some noise which would have alarmed those who were about, throwing herself on the bed was the best thing; for had she been elsewhere I never should have found her, as the smoke was so thick that I could not discover a single object in the room, and only found the bed by knowing its situation from having been frequently in the room. If we had known at the time we were in the next room, immediately after the first alarm, that she was there, she would have been rescued without any difficulty. The poor woman’s obstinacy cost her her life, for although she was not in the least burnt, yet such was the effect of the smoke upon her lungs, together with the alarm, that the next day she became exceedingly ill, and although we procured for her the best medical advice the town afforded, she died in a few days. The surgeon who attended her said that she died of a disease to which she had long been subject, an enlargement of the heart, which was brought on in this instance by the causes I have before stated.

“The engines arrived shortly after. I had provided for them a stock of water by placing some large tubs in the front of the house, which we filled with water before the engines came. One of our pumps was undergoing repairs at the time, so that it did not afford us any water. The other very soon became dry; but we found an excellent supply from a pit a little nearer to the town, on the right side of the road. Five men, for the promise of five shillings each, stood in the water to fill the buckets, and such was the rapidity of the supply, that not one of the engines was for an instant without water.

“By about eight the engines ceased to play—the fire was extinguished. Till this time so actively had I been engaged, that I believe I had not time to reflect upon the consequences of this accident. But now all was over. Exertion was no further of any use. In informing my father that such was the state of things, my throat felt as stopped, and the tears came to my eyes. I went upstairs, and to the top of the house. The whole of the roof, excepting that part over the school-room, was destroyed. Two or three of the beams, reduced to charcoal, remained in their places, and a few of the slates still rested upon some of the bending rafters; the rest was bare to the sky. In some places the rubbish was still smoking. To extinguish this completely, and to search every place to be certain that all was safe, occupied my attention for a time; but the consideration of the probable effect this accident might have on our future success would obtrude itself on my mind. We had insured the house and furniture, but for a small sum; the first for £500, the latter for £250, and I soon saw that the loss would be considerable.

“In order to throw the water immediately upon the fire, we raised a ladder which had been made a few months before to be in readiness in case of such an accident. Up this the firemen carried their pipes, and played almost directly upon the flames.”

Among the firemen on the crumbling roof, directing and aiding them, was his brother Edwin. “Observing that one of the men had difficulty in reaching a place where the flames remained unsubdued, he seized one of the largest slates, and so held it as to deflect the stream, all this being done while his bride stood in anxiety below.”

“Another pipe was carried up the stairs, and threw its water upon the fire through an opening over the back stairs. This engine was very effective, till a scoundrel (and there were several about who took advantage of the confusion to plunder the house), in order to make the confusion still greater, stamped upon the pipe and burst it. A fireman who saw this, took a short staff out of his pocket and gave the fellow a blow on his head, which sent him completely downstairs. I did not know of this till after the fire was over and the rascal had escaped, otherwise he should have been dealt with as he deserved. I cannot think of any crime which so completely shows the absence of all good feeling as to take advantage of another’s misfortunes, and even to increase them for the sake of plunder.

“It was necessary to do much immediately. We had all risen in the greatest haste, and were but half-dressed. The poor boys had lost all their clothes, except such as were on their backs, and some which were then at the washerwoman’s,—for their trunks, which were kept in one of the roof rooms, were destroyed. We were all wet, hungry, tired, and distressed. The house was completely swilled throughout with the immense quantity of water which had been thrown upon it, so that it was impossible to inhabit it immediately. Our family consisted of almost eighty individuals, who were at that moment houseless. The kindness of our friends and neighbours, however, soon relieved us of part of our anxiety. They provided us with clean linen, shoes, and everything we could want. A lady who keeps a female school on the opposite side of the road, kindly lent the boys a change of stockings. Our good friend, Miss Bache, came with her servants laden with food for breakfast, which was eaten by some in the garden. One or two gentlemen undertook the care of the house and furniture; others led away the people who had assisted to the ‘Plough and Harrow,’ where they were refreshed with bread and cheese and ale, and all pressed us to leave the place for a time and recruit our strength. The boys were divided amongst the neighbours, who took them to their houses. Mr. and Mrs. Busby, than whom kinder-hearted people never existed, claimed a right to receive our own family, as being the nearest neighbours. Here we breakfasted. It was a sad meal, each trying to appear as little affected as possible, in order to keep up the spirits of the others. If anything could have removed our distress, it would have been accomplished by the kindness of our friends, which no doubt did very much to alleviate it. Invitations for ourselves and the boys—not only from our immediate friends, but also from gentlemen whose names we scarcely knew,—poured in upon us, and if our family had been ten times as numerous, they would have been disposed of with greater ease than was the case; for the offers of assistance were so earnest and so numerous, that it was painful to be obliged to refuse such as we could not accept.