The panic created by a cry of fire in theatres, churches, and other public buildings, may be said to cause a considerably greater number of deaths than the flames themselves. Few persons, indeed, are burnt to death, means of escape from conflagration being usually found; whereas, the number suffocated and bruised to death by mere panic, is lamentably large. The following is the account of a most disastrous fire-panic, which we gather from a paper in an American Journal of Education.
In the city of New York there is a school, known as the 'Ninth Ward School-house,' Greenwich Avenue. The house is built of brick, and consists of several floors, access to which is obtained by a spiral staircase. The bottom of the staircase is paved with stone, and ten feet square in extent. Standing in the centre of this landing-place, we look up a circular well, as it may be called, round which the stair winds with its balustrade. The school is attended by boys and girls, in different departments, under their respective teachers. It was in this extensive establishment, numbering at the time 1233 boys and 600 girls, that the panic occurred, and it broke out in a singular and unexpected way.
One day last December, Miss Harrison, a teacher in the female department, who had been for some days indisposed, was suddenly, and while performing her duties in the school, seized with a paralysis of the tongue. The spectacle of their teacher in this distressing condition, naturally suggested to the children that she was faint, and required water. At all events, the word water was uttered. It was repeated. It became a cry; and the cry excited the idea of fire. A notion sprang up that the school was on fire. That was enough. The floor was in an uproar; and the noise so created in one department was communicated to the others. The whole school was seized with panic! Now commenced a rush towards the various doors. Out of each poured a flood of children, dashing wildly to the staircase. The torrent jammed up, and unable to find outlet by the stair, burst the balustrades, and down like a cataract poured the maddened throng into the central well, falling on the paved lobby beneath. The scene was appalling. 'Before the current could be arrested, the well was filled with the bodies of children to the depth of about eight feet. At this juncture, the alarm reached the Ninth Ward Station-house, the fire-bell was rung, and a detachment of the police hurried to the scene. Here a new difficulty presented itself. The afternoon session of the school having commenced, the main outer-doors, which open upon the foot of the stairs, had been closed. Against these the affrighted children were wedged in masses, and as the doors open inward, it was some time before relief could be given them. The police fortunately effected an entrance by a rear-door, but for which timely help, many more of the children would probably have been suffocated.
'Much commendation is due to the teachers for their presence of mind. Miss M'Farland, one of the assistants in the primary department, finding the children of her department becoming alarmed, placed herself in the doorway, and exerted her utmost strength to arrest them as they endeavoured to rush from the room; and although several times thrown down and trampled upon, she still persisted in her efforts, until, finally, she was so much injured, as to be compelled to relinquish the post. So impetuous was the rush, however, that five of the teachers were forced over the balusters, and fell with the children into the well. The sterner discipline exercised over the boys' departments prevented them generally from joining in the rush. Only three of the pupils in the upper male department were among the killed. Some of the boys jumped out of the windows, and one of them had his neck broken by the fall. As soon as they gained admittance, the police took possession of the premises, and commenced handing out the children from their perilous position. Those that were on the top were but slightly injured; but as soon as these had been removed, the most heart-rending spectacle presented itself. Some among the policemen were fathers, whose own children were there. They worked manfully, and body after body was taken out: many of them lifeless at first, came to when they once more breathed the fresh air; but many were beyond aid, and death was too plainly marked upon their pallid features. Some were injured by the fall, and lay writhing in agony; some moaned; while others shrieked with pain; and others, again, when released, started off for home, apparently unconscious of the awful scene through which they had passed. The bodies of the dead and wounded were mostly taken to the Ninth Ward Station-house, which is near the school. In a few minutes, news of the accident spread through the neighbourhood, and mothers came rushing to the scene by scores. Occasionally, a mother would recognise the lifeless form of a child as it was lifted from the mass, and then the piercing cry of agony that would rend the air! One after another, the bodies of the dead were removed; and at length litters were provided, and the wounded were carried away also. Nearly one hundred families either mourned the loss of children, or watched anxiously over the forms of the wounded.'
The coroner's jury which sat on this case of wholesale destruction of life, decided that no blame could be imputed to any of the teachers in the school, and that the deaths were a result of accident. At the same time, they strongly condemned the construction of the stair, and the unfitness of the balustrades to withstand pressure. The whole case suggests the impolicy of giving spiral staircases to buildings of this class: in all such establishments, the stairs should be broad and square, with numerous landing-places.
Strangely enough, the sensation caused by the above catastrophe had not subsided, when another case of destruction of life occurred in New York from a similarly groundless fear of fire. This second disaster is noticed as follows in the newspapers:
'Monday night (January 12), between the hours of nine and ten o'clock, a frightful calamity occurred at 140 Centre Street, in a rear building owned by the Commissioners of Emigration, for the reception of the newly-arrived emigrants. The building is five storeys high, and each floor appropriated for the emigrants—the upper rooms principally for the women, and the lower part for the men. In this place, six human lives were lost, and perhaps as many more may yet die from the injuries sustained. It seems that between nine and ten o'clock, the City Hall bell rang an alarm of fire in the fifth district, and some of the women on the upper floors called out "fire," which instantly created a panic of alarm on each floor among them, and a general rush was made for the stairway, which being very contracted, they fell one on the top of each other, creating an awful state of confusion. So terrified were some, that they broke out the second and third storey windows, and sprang out, falling with deadly violence in the yard below. The screams and cries of the affrighted women and children soon called the aid of the police; and Captain Brennen, aided by his efficient officers, rendered every assistance in his power, and succeeded, as quickly as possible, in extricating the injured as well as the dead from the scene of calamity. Six dead bodies were conveyed to the station-house, and eight persons were conveyed to the city hospital with broken arms and bodily injuries, some of whom are not expected to survive. Many others were injured, more or less, but not deemed sufficiently so to be sent to the hospital. Those killed are all children, except one, who is a young woman about twenty years of age. They were all suffocated by the number of persons crowded on them. The scene at the Sixth Ward Station-house presented a woful sight, the mothers of the deceased children bewailing over them in the most pitiful manner. At the time the alarm was given, there were about 480 emigrants in the building, the larger proportion women and children, who were up stairs; and in forcing their way down stairs, the balusters gave way, thus precipitating them down in a very similar manner to the unfortunate children at the Ninth Ward School-house. There was, it seems, no cause for the alarm of fire any more than the bells rang an alarm; which alarm did not refer to that district, but was misconstrued by the emigrants to be in their building. Alderman Barr was quickly on the spot, rendering every assistance in his power to alleviate the sufferings of the poor unfortunate emigrants.'
The details of these two calamities arising from sheer panic will not be useless, if they serve to shew the extreme danger and folly of giving way to a terror of fire in crowded buildings. Let us impress upon all the necessity for so disciplining their nerves, that on hearing a call of fire in a church, theatre, or other place of assemblage, they may act with calmness and common sense; those nearest the door going out, and the others quietly following. It is in the highest degree improbable—not to say impossible—that in such places fire, before its discovery, can gain such a height as to cut off, unaided by panic, the escape of a single man, woman, or child in the house. We should remember, that not merely on the first discovery of fire, but when the building is actually in flames, the firemen are at work within the walls; and that these men are protected by no immunity but that arising from their own courage and self-possession.