The Story of the Great Fire in St. John, N.B., June 20th, 1877 Part 5

CHAPTER IX.

Queen Square--Incidents in the Burning--The Old Pitcher--"G.o.d is burning up the World, and He won't make another"--Saved from the flames--Overtaken by Fire three times--The Night of Terror on Queen Square--Alone amidst Perils--The Lone House on the Square--Three People under a Table--The sailor--"If I Die to-night sir, hunt them up"--The escape--The Deserted Streets--An Anomaly--The Marine Hospital--What a few Buckets of Water Did--The Wiggins Orphan Asylum--The block in Canterbury street--The _News_ office--Savings Bank.

Some of the most terrible incidents of the fire took place during the burning of Queen Square. The flames carrying away Mr. Manson's residence on the corner of Sydney Street and the square, had entered Mr. A. L.

Palmer's house soon afterwards, and then the whole block was hurried to destruction. The square was filled with the savings of the people, not alone of those who lived hard by, but many things were here that had been carried to the vacant s.p.a.ce from a long distance early that day.

There was bedding in abundance, and all round about little heaps of general household stuff lay guarded by women and boys. This for a time was the haven of safety, and the broad field looked like a vast warehouse. Chairs and bedsteads and even stoves and old pipes were piled in hopeless confusion one upon the other. In the hurry people had taken that which they had seen first, and the common things of the kitchen were saved while the rich furniture of the drawing-room was left to perish. A man congratulated himself upon saving an old tub and a dipper, while the books in the library lay untouched save by the fire, and private papers that he could easily have slipped into his pocket, burned before his eyes. A lady told her husband to be careful and take a bag which contained the ma.s.sive silver plate of her family for a century, and in the moving it was found that he had saved the rag-bag instead. A man who had been a prosperous merchant lost his all, and the little savings he had sc.r.a.ped together in a decade of years seemed to melt before him, but he that night knelt and thanked his G.o.d that his wife and child were by his side. These treasures were near him and all else might go. He had his strong and willing hands still left, and a firm spirit, and though for a while he would miss the little comforts he had been accustomed to, yet would he battle with the world again, and in the coming years try to win back some of the fruits he had lost. Men in the excitement knew not what to take first, and pianos were thrown out of three-story windows, while carpets that had worn worthily and well till they had become heir-looms in the family, were carefully borne down stairs on the broad shoulders of stout porters. A thousand human beings stood in the square watching the flames las.h.i.+ng the buildings before them. John Boyd, Esq's residence, one of the handsomest buildings in the city, richly furnished and equipped with costly books, was attacked on both sides, and soon forced to yield and go down like the less substantial buildings at its side. The house of G. B. Cus.h.i.+ng, Esq., was of wood, and it was not long before the site on which it stood was level with the ground. Before the house of Mr. E. L. Jewett, once the home of the late Dr. Gray, had taken fire, a gentleman tried to save it by standing on the roof and das.h.i.+ng a pitcher of water on the sparks as they caught vulnerable spots. For an hour or more he stood there with his pitcher, when it became evident to him that no effort that he could make would save the building, and he got down, leaving the pitcher standing on a ledge of the chimney. The fire shortly afterwards burned the building, and left the long chimney standing against the sky; and the next day when the spot was visited, and people walked over the heap of ashes that had once been a household, all that was saved was the old pitcher, that still stood on the ledge of the chimney solitary and alone. It told the story of the desolation more eloquently than tongue of orator could speak, or pen of a Macaulay could describe. The house of ex-Mayor Woodward, with its hundreds of curiosities and old relics, including Major Andre's gun and a score of Continental dollars, caught in the rear, and lived but a few minutes in the flames. But so it was all round the square. When Mrs. Stevenson's strong house was going to pieces, a flock of pigeons hovering near it were drawn in by the heat; they whirled about for an instant, turned and rushed into the vortex, and perished in a second. A cat, maddened and wild, cut off from all escape, dashed along, when the fire pursued her, and she stood still. On Thursday morning she was still standing in the same place. Her frame only could be seen, with head up and tail erect; it was a ghastly sight. It was during the conflagration on the square, that a little child, five years old, sat by the window of his grandfather's house, then in fancied security, and looked out at the flames. The little fellow for awhile could not speak. He became pale with terror, and with a loud cry he burst out with this thought: "O, pa, pa, come and see! G.o.d is burning up the world, and He won't make another, and He won't make another!" It was in vain they tried to pacify him, he still continued his cry, and it was only when far away from the dreadful scene which roused so strangely his youthful imagination, that he became calm.

[Ill.u.s.tration: VIEW FROM QUEEN SQUARE.]

But there were other incidents in this quarter of the city which deserve more than a pa.s.sing notice. There were deeds of heroism done and hours of agony endured that should be recorded and remembered. There were exploits exhibiting a broad humanity and great self-sacrifice performed, that should not be forgotten or go down unrecognised. We had heroes in our midst that night, and the man who climbed three stories of a house enveloped in the flames, and s.n.a.t.c.hed the sleeping infant from its crib, and brought her safe to her agonized mother in the square below, is as surely as brave as "he who taketh a city," or marches against the invader of his country. If there are decorations of honour to be given, let them be bestowed on those n.o.ble ones who saved lives that day. A case has come under the writer's notice which deserves the fullest publicity. Mr. D. R. Munro, after working at John McDougall's place in York Point for some time, and then going to the a.s.sistance of an old lady who was striving to save her bedding, started for Lower Cove in the direction of Mr. Tucker's house. On his way he noticed with alarm the extraordinary headway which the fire was making. Trinity and St.

Andrew's were on fire, and the Victoria Hotel just catching. Some of the streets were so blocked up with people, and thick with flame and smoke, that he could not pa.s.s them. He had to go through Chipman's field, but he could not get further along Prince William Street. Germain Street was the only way open to him, and by this thoroughfare he journeyed till he reached Queen Square. Here Mrs. Freeman, the rigger's wife, was gathering together her scattered effects, when her little children raised the cry, "Quick, quick, mother's on fire! Save my mother!" Mr.

Munro and a companion rushed in, seized Mrs. Freeman, wound a carpet about her, and tried to smother the flames with their hands. As soon as the carpet was removed from her person, the fire again seized her, when her clothes had to be torn from her and she was rolled on the gra.s.s with a table-cloth wrapped tightly around her. This saved her life, and she escaped the awful death which seemed so imminent. Mrs. Tucker's house was by this time in great danger, the leaping flames were expected momentarily to s.n.a.t.c.h it from its base, and people were beginning to get the furniture away before the shock came. For a moment Mr. Munro lay on the gra.s.s, unable to resume his exertions. He had worked from three in the afternoon till it was nearly eight o'clock, and with hands and face burned he rested on the gra.s.s. But his rest was of short duration, for on looking up a sight met his eyes which filled his soul with horror.

Mrs. Tucker's house was on fire and she herself seemed in the very heart of the flames. He almost flew to her, the courage of the lion and the quickness of Mercury seemed to come to him all at once, and he was by her side in an instant. Three times her bonnet caught, and as often was the blaze extinguished. Mrs. Tucker seemed deaf to all requests of her friends, who in vain entreated her to go away and leave her house and furniture to their fate. She still remained by the few things she had borne away, and it was after eight o'clock before she sought a place of safety. A sailor was working in the cellar of her house, pa.s.sing the things he managed to lay hands on through the window. He was not aware of his danger, for when he had got in, the flames were a good distance off, and when he was discovered the house was on fire. In a few moments, it would come crus.h.i.+ng down and bury him in the ruins. Mr. Munro hastened to his relief. Through his labours the man was rescued, for he had not been out a hundred seconds, when, in a ma.s.s of ruins, the house came tumbling down. The sailor, who gave his name as Robert Angus, 2nd officer of the s.h.i.+p "Asiana," sought with Mr. Munro a refuge in the square, for all hope of getting away by any of the streets was cut off.

Both sides of Charlotte Street and Sydney Street were on fire, and from St. Andrew's Street all means of exit were away. The two men stood on the square and looked around them. Strange emotions filled their b.r.e.a.s.t.s. They were alone, standing in the centre of one of the greatest conflagrations they had ever seen. All round them the giant flames gathered, and closer and closer, and narrower and narrower the circle became. The PaG.o.da in their rear was blazing. The posts here and there burned at the tops, like so many huge candles. Not a soul was to be seen on the square but themselves. The streets were deserted. Every one had fled. The little nests of scattered effects burned on every side of them, and the stench from smouldering feathers and domestic animals who died by the score, was intolerable. Neither man for some minutes spoke.

Both looked out into the night. One can guess what thoughts entered their heads. The advancing fire interrupted their reveries, and as they could not escape from the plain in which they were imprisoned, they looked about them for means of preservation from the intense heat, which became greater at every moment. An old pine table was brought up to the camping ground they had selected. A headstone of marble that was lying at their feet, was placed at the head of it, and a carpet was wrapped around them. In this primitive wigwam the men resolved to pa.s.s the night. The prospect before them was gloomy enough. Just before getting into this cabin, an old woman came hobbling up towards them, crying aloud for help. They invited her to share their kennel. She accepted the invitation and the three refugees watched the flames on every side of them for two hours. There was silence for a while when the sailor, who all through had exhibited such nerve and coolness, now showed signs of trepidation and fear. He began to talk of his home in England, of his wife and children, and the strong man who could do so much for others, fairly broke down and wept bitter tears. "Who will take care of them now, sir," he broke out with a wail. "If I die to-night, hunt them up and tell them how I died. It is not for myself I feel, but for them, poor bodies. You know my name and s.h.i.+p, sir, any of my mess-mates will know what to do if you tell them what became of poor Bob Angus." It would indeed move a sterner heart than Mr. Munro's, to hear a man like this talk in a way like that. The sailor who had breasted the billows of the ocean so long that he had begun to look upon them as his playthings, crouched that night in his little box in Queen Square, weeping for the loved ones at home, far, far away. Mrs. Donovan who sat beside the sailor tried to cheer him up, but it was useless, and her words of comfort only made him feel worse and writhe in greater agony.

At last, for there is an end to all things, a bold sortie was proposed, and each of the prisoners sought to force a way out of their natural prison. Each took a direction, and in the dead of that awful night they made their way. The hydra-head of the monster ruin withered them at every turn. Giant walls fell crumbling at their feet, and the fire flashed and the flames flickered on the heaps of debris which they encountered on the sideways of their journey. Not a soul could be seen in the streets. They met no living thing. The silence was as terrible to them as it is to the lonely pilgrim of the forest, or the traveller in the distant arctic, who shrieks ever and anon lest he go mad from the effect of that awful solitude. When the parties met at the corner they separated and each groped his way homeward through the desert of desolation. Mr. Munro's loss is very heavy. In working for others he neglected his own interests, and many of his personal effects have pa.s.sed away.

On St. James Street, two buildings stood. One was a very ma.s.sive and very beautiful structure, of no precise form of architecture, but very chaste and elegant for all that. The other was an old wooden barn-like house that had been decaying for years, and was only waiting to be torn down by some pa.s.sing high wind. These two buildings were situate within a stones throw of each other, and the one could have been saved just as well as the other. A little nerve, a little will, and a few pails of water would have done the work. The Marine Hospital was built in a garden. It was a useful sort of affair in its day, but it had long ago done all the good that was expected of it. Its day was past, and it must soon have given way to a fine brick structure, to be located on its site. When the fire came tearing along, decimating the buildings in every block, Mr. Barnes, the keeper, and a few of the inmates stationed themselves in good positions, and began a vigorous defence of the old place. A number of well directed buckets of water, plied rapidly when the fire showed itself, was all that these men did, and the old building was saved. The fire was stubborn, for it tried a hundred times to gain a foothold, but the men who defended the hospital were just as indomitable, and the defence was a great success. The hospital now stands in all its grim shabbiness and ugliness, though a barn near by, filled with goods of all kinds, including a piano, of course, perished.

People from a distance, who came days afterwards to witness the desolation, ask with amazement why this great house was saved, and the n.o.ble charity almost opposite, was allowed to burn. But it is hard to always fathom the short-sightedness of man. All praise is due to Mr.

Barnes and his a.s.sistants, for saving even one public building, and it is a pity his example could not have been followed opposite, when the Wiggins Orphanage caught. Only one man was left in charge, and it is not expected that he could do everything in a time when all were at their wits' end and full of excitement. This splendid charity was inst.i.tuted in 1867, and was founded by the late Stephen Wiggins. It was opened July 1, 1876, and erected at a cost of $80,000. Mr. Wiggins left this magnificent sum for a male Orphan Asylum, under certain provisions.

These were, that each child to be admitted must be born in the City and County of St. John, preference always to be shown to fatherless children of mariners; the children must be not under the age of four nor over ten years at the time of admission, and not to be continued in the inst.i.tution after reaching the age of fifteen years. No teacher could be employed who was a Unitarian, Universalist or Roman Catholic, and no Governor could act in that capacity if he were of that belief. The Governors consisted of nine gentlemen. Those at the time of the incorporation were, the Rev. William Scovil, Charles Merritt, Frederick A. Wiggins, Hon. John W. Weldon, Beverley Robinson, J. D. Lewin, Geo. C.

Wiggins, Henry W. Frith, and the Rector of St. James' Church. When the building burned, there were twelve orphans in the Asylum, but they were safely rescued and sent to Long Island. The present Board consists of the following gentlemen: Chas. Merritt, Hon. J. D. Lewin, Rev. Wm.

Armstrong, Rev. W. Scovil, Hon. J. W. Weldon, Geo. Sidney Smith, B. L.

Peters, H. W. Frith Rev. F. Brigstocke, with James U. Thomas, as Secretary. At a meeting of the Governors, held on Monday, the 2nd July, it was decided to rebuild the Inst.i.tute very soon. The reader will notice from the cut which is given of the Orphanage, that it presented a very pretty front, and was exceedingly well built.

In Mecklenburg Street, all that fine block of buildings on the north side, beginning with the residence of Mr. John R. Armstrong, and followed by Mr. John W. Nicholson's castle, the houses of the Messrs.

Magee and others; on the south side Mr. Vaughan's well-built house, and on the corner the Stevenson property, mentioned just now, burned very readily. Mr. John Magee's family escaped with their lives only.

[Ill.u.s.tration: CANTERBURY ST., SHOWING RICHIE'S BUILDING IN THE DISTANCE.

Photo. by G. F. Simonson.]

The fire in Canterbury Street levelled a block of buildings that were the boast of the city. They were built with great care and especially designed for the great wholesale trade which was done there. The street is a narrow one and runs from King Street to Princess Street, and is crossed by a small alley called Church. Of late years the street has grown from a comparative by-way or short cut, to an extensive wholesale stand, where merchants of large means and good business capacity have met their clients and customers. The stocks kept in these s.p.a.cious warehouses have ever been large, and the appliances with which the stores were supplied actually made business a luxury. The centre building was erected and occupied by the Hon. Thomas R. Jones, wholesale dry goods merchant. His s.h.i.+rt factory was situate opposite, next door to the Printing House of McKillop & Johnston, who used to print _The Weekly Watchman_. The second pile was built by the same merchant for Messrs. W.

H. Thorne & Co., wholesale hardware merchants, and the building on the south of the present edifice, was erected by The North British and Mercantile Insurance Company, Henry Jack, Esq., agent, and leased to Messrs. Everitt & Butler, wholesale dry goods merchants. Mr. Jack's office was in this building also. The _Daily News'_ office was between the latter and the Savings Bank. It was erected some twenty years ago by the present Queen's printer and former proprietor of the _Daily News_--the first penny paper--George E. Fenety, Esq. The present proprietors, Messrs. Willis & Mott, purchased it last September. This year they made several improvements on it, enlarged it in the rear and improved the inside. They had begun work on the ground flat when the fire changed the aspect of affairs. All that was saved were three pages of type, and the late fyles of the paper. These were carried as far as Reed's Point, and were only considered safe when they reached water mark. The building was of brick. The offices were down stairs and consisted of accountant's room, editor's office and reporters' room.[O]

The Savings' Bank on the corner of Princess and Canterbury Streets was a building of singularly handsome proportions. It was built in the year 1859, by the St. John County Provident Society, which up to this time had an office in the old Commercial Bank building. In 1872, the Dominion Government took it off their hands, had it renovated thoroughly and changed, and commenced operations in it in 1873, as a Dominion Savings'

Bank. The a.s.sistant Receiver-General and Dominion Auditor had offices in the bank. Matthew Stead was the architect. The old Post Office in this street was leased a few months ago to The Paper Company, who had it repaired and well furnished. In the upper story _The Watchman_ office was located. Messrs. Bowes & Evans' large stove establishment, and John Va.s.sie & Co's wholesale dry goods house, entrance on Canterbury Street, were greedily devoured. The little street suffered severely, for it represented a very large sum of money. Two well-known inst.i.tutions were also burned here, Conroy's hair-dressing establishment and McGinley's barber-shop.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Burland Desbarats Lith. Co. Montreal

INSIDE THE SAVINGS BANK.

Photo. by G. F. Simonson.]

FOOTNOTES:

[O] The first steam press in the Maritime Provinces was started in the _Morning News_ building, then situated directly on the south end of what is now called Canterbury Street, but which was not then opened.

CHAPTER X.

Incidents--An Old Corner Burned Down--The Lenders and Borrowers--"Twenty per Cent."--The Shylocks of the Curbstone-- The Human Barometer--The Vultures of Commerce--Chubbs' Corner-- The Old Commercial Bank--The _Telegraph_ Office--The Bank of New Brunswick--A Hard Worked Cas.h.i.+er--The Post Office--Not a Mail Lost--Quick Despatch--The Nethery House and the Orangemen--The Royal Hotel--The Custom House--The Dead of the Conflagration.

Beyond all question the successful resistance to the flames at the residence of James H. Moran, Esq., at Chipman's Hill, prevented the spread of the fire to the northern portion of the city. That house was attacked with great fury from front and rear, but the extraordinary and well applied labours of Mr. Joseph Dunlop, and his crew of workmen from the s.h.i.+pyard, aided by the city firemen, kept the flames at bay. The window sashes caught several times, and the men finding neither timber nor axes, boldly grasped the sashes with their naked hands, and despite some severe burning to themselves, they succeeded in tearing them away.

This saved the building and stopped the spread of the flames along Union Street and beyond it. Mr. Moran was at his summer residence in St.

Martin's during the conflagration, but on hearing of the calamity he hastened home, and made the journey of 32 miles, it is said, in two hours and forty-five minutes. While the fire was in Mill Street, a bright little fellow of thirteen, named Johnny Law, performed an act of considerable heroism and thoughtfulness. His employer, Mr. W. H. Gibbon, had gone to Grand Lake about two days before the fire, and left his establishment in charge of this boy, who had the forethought when he saw the flames coming near the store to save the books and papers. The flooring above his head fell while he was getting out, but by crawling on his hands and knees, he managed to effect his release from a captivity that would soon have resulted in certain death. Besides this he saved a number of articles from the house, and saw to the successful removal of Mrs. Gibbon and her young children.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Burland Desbarats Lith. Co. Montreal

PRINCE WILLIAM STREET.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Burland Desbarats Lith. Co. Montreal

PRINCE WILLIAM STREET.

Photo. by G. F. Simonson.]

There was great ruin in Prince William Street after the fire. A good deal of the wealth of the city, and some of the chief buildings of the place were situate here. The destruction of the Imperial Building belonging to the Messrs. Magee, and which was occupied by them and Messrs. Maclellan & Co., the bankers, was but the work of a few moments.

A large quant.i.ty of valuable merchandise likewise perished, and the newly commenced block of buildings adjoining exhibited even a vaster extent of ruin than it did on the night of the last great fire which raged in this locality, and which cost the city seven lives.[P] Mr.

Robert Marshall's insurance office, on the corner of the Market Square, and indeed the whole of Prince William Street, both sides clear to Reed's Point, were reduced to ashes and debris. Jardine's grocery store, Messrs. Wisdom & Fish's belting and heavy goods establishment, Benson's millinery store, Steeves, Bros., J. & J. Hegan & Co's., Beard & Venning, The Devebers, James R. Cameron & Co., W. H. Hayward & Co., George Philp's banking house, and Chubb's book store on the one side, were as completely wrecked as the row of stores on the eastern part of the street which contained Barnes & Co's. book-store, Peiler's piano warehouse, and Professor Devine's music store, the splendid book and publis.h.i.+ng establishment of Messrs. J. & A. McMillan, which was first built in 1831, and was afterwards burned in one of the great fires which succeeded that year, and, about 1842, was rebuilt in the shape in which the fire found it the other day, the insurances offices of H. R. Ranney, Lawton's drug store, Stevenson's shoe-shop, Valpey's, Sheraton & Skinner's carpet warehouse, Simeon Jones & Co's., Eastern Express, Francis', and Z. G. Gabel's corner store.

Chubb's Corner--the home of the curb stone broker, and the place where more gossip has been talked during the last forty years than would furnish the stock-in-trade of forty well-organized sewing circles--was an early victim, for it went down with Furlong's palace about the hour of six. The mention of Chubb's Corner awakens a thousand memories. For many years it enjoyed the distinction of being the great centre of commercial speculation. Men came here to meet men who had money to lend, and those who had none came to borrow it. Stocks and merchandise changed hands on this spot a dozen times a day, and the cautious bill-broker who never had any funds of his own to lend, came here to scent the financial air. In this cheerful spot money was subject to the fluctuations of the market with a vengeance. The rate--aye, there's the rub--"if we can only agree about _that_," said the note-shaver, "I think I may take the paper. 'The man is a good man,'" he continued, unconsciously quoting Shakespeare, "and I think I may take his bond,"

and though nothing was said about the pound of flesh in the event of the notes not being paid at maturity, the modern Shylock meant it all the same, and was as equally determined to get it, too, as the old gentleman we see on the stage rubbing his hands together, and making horrible faces at the audience and the Christian merchant Antonio. The rate in this grim corner was not measured by the consciences of the money-lenders, but by the necessities of the applicant. One could tell in a much less expensive way than by borrowing money of these gentry, whether they were getting a good price for their coin or not, by simply watching their faces during the operation. The face of the note-shaver is a barometer. It requires no regulating and it is always correct.

There, quick, watch it now. See how long the face is. No, he has no money himself, but--Ah, that's it, now watch. See, observe the countenance, listen to that chuckle? Yes, what is he chuckling about?

Oh, that's nothing, only habit; now the face is hanging up again, and it is ready for observation. The lender is telling the borrower how difficult it is to get money, and how much Smith had to pay for a thirty days' loan yesterday. This is of no interest to Jones, who is hanging on the words of Mr. Shylock as a lover drinks in the soft nothings of his mistress, but it gives the lender opportunities to find out how "hard up" his victim is. Now watch the face again. Still long and bilious-looking. Twenty per cent. is not so high. It's only five dollars off of a hundred, and look at the time three months--and it falls due on Sunday, too. You'll get a day's interest out of me for nothing, you rogue. The face is positively joyous. The eyes snap and sparkle. The countenance has become quite round and full, and there are bright spots on the cheeks. The extra day without interest did it, and the two go off arm in arm. But after all they are not happy; one has paid too much, and the other stands ready to kick himself for not having asked more. O, Chubb's Corner, you have much to answer for, and perhaps the fire did some good in staying this kind of business for a time at least on your site. But the old corner was not given over entirely to the vultures of commerce. It was the place for many years where property, stocks, debentures, bonds, and all such securities were sold at Public Auction as well as by private sale. The old Corner was a meeting place too, where men met and talked over the times and their affairs. Men stopped here on their way to the Post Office, the old Bank and the Custom House, if it was not too late, to have a friendly chat with an acquaintance.

Office boys hurrying along in the leisurely hurry that office boys always employ, stopped at Chubb's Corner and looked into the windows of the Exchange office, and wondered to themselves if the huge pile of money they saw lying about was good or not, and whether it would pa.s.s.

And so the days came and the days pa.s.sed away, and year in and year out, the old Corner still stood the centre of a busy hive. If those old walls could speak now, as daily, men tramp over their fallen forms, what tales could they tell, what stories of joy and sorrow might they not relate!

Walls have ears and they heard much, but they could not speak and what they knew has perished with them.

The building on the Corner was put up by Mr. Chubb, shortly after he was burned out in 1839. The head of the old firm was Henry Chubb, Esq., whose father landed with the Loyalists. He succeeded in 1811 the business which had formerly been carried on by Mrs. Mott, wife of the King's Printer, for whom Mr. Chubb conducted the work of the establishment on the death of her husband. In 1842, Samuel Seeds was admitted partner in the firm together with the eldest son of Mr. Chubb, Henry J. Chubb. In 1846 the latter died and the surviving partners continued the business until the spring of 1855, when Mr. Chubb died leaving his share to Mr. Seeds and his two sons, Thos. Chubb and George James Chubb. In 1863, Mr. Seeds retired and the brothers remained in business until 1865, when G. J. Chubb bought out his brother's interest, and the firm has continued under the old style of H. Chubb & Co., ever since. An exchange office was added to the stationery and printing business during the American War.

The old Commercial Bank building which was lately completely altered and renovated internally, was situate on the south-east corner of Prince William and Princess Streets. The corner stone was laid in 1839, and a grand Masonic demonstration took place, Rev. Dr. B. G. Gray officiating.

Henry Gilbert Esq., was the President of the Commercial Bank at the time. It was used latterly for the civic offices, and the Water Commissioners had an office on the ground flat. _The Daily Telegraph_ newspaper occupied the old wooden building adjoining, and about which notice is given in the first chapter of this history. Mr. Elder, the enterprising editor and proprietor of the paper, is a heavy loser by the fire. Not only did he lose his well-equipped printing office and appliances, his splendid reference library and collection of historic data, the gatherings of many years, but his bound fyles also, and in fact everything he possessed vanished forever.

The Bank of New Brunswick was for a long time deemed safe. It is true that the merchants hurried in with their books when the fire was still raging a quarter of a mile away, but the old building which was burned inside, exhibited after the fire, walls and pillars as strong and vigorous as they were half a century ago. The vaults preserved their contents, and millions of money were thus plucked from the burning. The old bank was an edifice in which the people took pride. It was a hale old veteran that had pa.s.sed through many a disaster. When financial troubles darkened the days of the people, when the dread cholera spread disease and death in households, when fires laid waste the best acres of our territory, the old bank still stood erect, and withstood the shock which threatened her on every side. It succ.u.mbed this time, but only in a partial way, for its pillars and a portion of its walls are as stalwart as of yore. In May, 1821, a general meeting was held of the stockholders of the banking company that had been organized the year before. At this meeting some honoured names were read, and the following gentlemen were present: Henry Gilbert, Hon. John Robinson, Nehemiah Merritt, Wm. Black, Ezekiel Barlow, Thos. Millidge, Ward Chipman, jr., Zalmon Wheeler, Hugh Johnston, jr., Robert W. Crookshank, Robert Parker, jr., Stephen Wiggins, and Hugh Johnston, senr. On the seventh day of May the directors were chosen, and the bank was ready for business. The first President was the Hon. John Robinson; and the other Directors for the year were Wm. Black, Ezekiel Barlow, Lewis Bliss, Ward Chipman, jr., Robert W. Crookshank, senr., Henry Gilbert, Hugh Johnston, Nehemiah Merritt, Thos. Millidge, Robert Parker, jr., Zalmon Wheeler, and Stephen Wiggins. Of these but one lives to-day, Lewis Bliss, Esq., who, at last accounts was in London, England. The Hon. J. D. Lewin was made President in 1857, and Wm. Girvan, Esq., whose great industry is proverbial, was chosen cas.h.i.+er, March 1st, 1862. Mr. Girvan, on taking charge of his office, at once went methodically over the old books, and in two years, by dint of untiring application, he had the full set from 1820 in shape.

The books are in such excellent condition, and so well arranged, that it is a pleasure to refer to them.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Burland Desbarats Lith. Co. Montreal

RUINS OF BANK OF NEW BRUNSWICK.