The Story of the Great Fire in St. John, N.B., June 20th, 1877 Part 7

11. Schooner "Star"; 13 tons; Benson; Westport; fish.

WOOD-BOATS.

"Burnett," 46 tons, Captain Reed; "Linda," 26 tons; "President," 46 tons, Captain Orchard; and "Messenger," 33 tons.

Four lime scows laden with lime, two owned by Mr. Raynes, of Fairville; two owned by Mr. Joseph Armstrong, of Greenhead.

CASUALTIES.

Schooner "Justice," Westport, hauled out of slip badly burned.

Schooner "George Calhoun," lying in Walker's slip, mainmast burned, hauled out without further damage.

On board the ferry-boat between three and four o'clock in the afternoon, the appearance of the city burning in four places at once, was a grand as well as an awful sight. The pa.s.sengers gathered together and wore very anxious looks, when it seemed for a time to be the intention of the captain not to land. The houses and stores of many who were on board were in danger, and all wanted to be at the fire. From the water it appeared to be levelling houses to the ground at the rate of one a minute, and the frightful ratio seemed never to slacken its speed. The s.h.i.+ps lying near the wharves moved out into the harbour, and some sailed far down the bay. The path of the ferry-boat was crossed more than once by vessels which had succeeded in getting away in safety, and collisions now and then were threatened; but fortunately none occurred. At length, to the relief of all on board, the boat succeeded in getting safely to her landing-place, and a grand rush was made up the floats for the head of Princess Street.

Perhaps one of the best and first specimens of enterprise which occurred on the night of the fire was that which was displayed by the chief officers of the Western Union Telegraph Company. The office was burned down, and only the books and some of the instruments were saved. The Fairville wire would not work, and no means of sending abroad intelligence of the ruin of the doomed city remained. It was fully eleven o'clock when R. T. Clinch, Esq., the superintendent of the company, Mr. Thos. Robinson, the manager, Mr. Dawson, Mr. Black and other gentlemen connected with the company, met the writer of these pages on Germain Street. The fire was still raging, though not at all fiercely in the lower part of the city. The party went down to the railway station, and we give an ill.u.s.tration of the building so that the reader may see the temporary Western Union Telegraph Office during the first few days of the fire, and after a little while a wire was put in working order. The first and only dispatch which left the city that night, and which on Thursday morning was read all over Canada, and in the United States, was sent forward, and each page was telegraphed as rapidly as it was written. In the morning the office was ready to receive and deliver messages, and those who stood by the counter, and every day watched the enormous crowd of people all anxious to be served first, can realize how hard the operators had to work in order to meet the requirements of the citizens. At one time there were between five and six hundred messages on the operator's table, and the sender might consider himself fortunate if his telegram got off three hours after it was written. Some miscreants in some instances cut the wires a few days after the fire, and the company had to send out twenty-five or thirty patrol men to look after them. Mr. Clinch lost no time in getting suitable quarters for the patrons of the company, and in a week he had a comfortable office, working finely, in the Market House. He began work at once on the new building which the company intend putting up, and in six months the new telegraph office will be ready for occupancy on its old site at the foot of King Street.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE TEMPORARY W. U. TEL. OFFICE.]

CHAPTER XII.

A Thrilling Incident--The Burning House--The Tall Figure in the Hall--Escape cut off--The only Way Out--The Street of Fire-- Walking on Coals--The Open Boat--The way to the Wharf--Terrible Suffering--The Awful Death in the Street--Worn Out--The Escape --Saved--The Firemen--How they Fought the Flames.

In olden times men who had performed deeds of bravery on the battle-field were canonized as saints, and those who had shown daring in other ways were revered as G.o.ds. There is a fascination about the stories which come down to us through the long centuries of time, and from the middle ages, and we are accustomed, almost from the cradle, to revere the names of the great ones who have filled the world with the splendour of their exploits in the defence of cities and the protection of fair ladies. In the nursery we learn to lisp the names of stalwart knights and doughty warriors, and the great deeds which they performed, ages and ages ago, live again in the memory of all mankind. And it is well that it should be so. It is well that the splendid actions of the world's great men should be remembered for all time. Who is there who does not feel the blood mantling his cheek when he thinks of a Clive and of a Marlborough? Who can think of a Napier and a Wellington, and not experience for a time a thousand emotions coursing and careering madly through his breast? And Robert Bruce on his little palfrey giving battle to the last of one of England's proudest and sternest knights, in full view of Stirling Castle, the day before the great battle was fought, is a story which every Scottish lad is taught before he is old enough to read. And the lives of such men as Bonaparte, Turenne, Wolfe, the Great Frederic, Von Moltke, and a hundred others, are undying records in the histories of nations, the memory of whose deeds shall last when time shall be no more.

In a young country like ours, whose territory has not often felt the hostile tread of invading armies, and whose broad acres are almost wholly unstained with the blood of battles, the heroes we have developed have earned their reputation in another and n.o.bler way. Halifax has had her England, whose name will be remembered as long as s.h.i.+ps sail the seas; and in St. John, we have long learned to bless the name of a hero in humble life, honest Tom Sloven. And now from the ashes of the fire two names arise, which in after years, when their owners shall have pa.s.sed away, will live in the hearts of the people, and leave there an imperishable record. We applaud success, and oftentimes let honest effort and endeavour go unrewarded. We wors.h.i.+p the rising sun, and when a man works hard to achieve a certain success and fails, we are apt to pa.s.s him by. And though the object, in the instance which we are about to relate, was not successful in the end, let us never forget the deed which was attempted at the imminent risk of the lives of the chief actors. When the story of the fire is told at firesides in the years to come, generations now unborn will listen with blanched cheeks and curdling blood, to the great incident in the conflagration, when a woman perished by the roadside, and two men escaped a dreadful death.

Mr. John E. Turnbull's sash factory, in Main Street, despite all exertions, caught so quickly that the workmen narrowly escaped from the ruins with their lives. Mr. Turnbull crossed the street to his residence, which, like many others on that eventful day, he considered impregnable. He had worked long at the factory, and had stored in his house a large quant.i.ty of belting and tools of his workshop. He had carefully gathered up everything of an inflammable character, and had swept the yard clean, so that nothing could ignite and spread around the fire, that but too readily devoured everything in its way. A vigorous defence was inaugurated to save the house. Mr. Turnbull had good a.s.sistants. His sons were there, working like beavers, and Mr. Walker Frink in his department, stayed the flames for a long time. The neighbours, believing like Mr. Turnbull, that nothing could harm this house, had piled large quant.i.ties of furniture against its front, these were lying before the windows of the cellar, and after a while took fire. Mrs. Turnbull fearing that the house might after all be burned, and at the request of her husband, made her escape by the back window, and had to be lifted over the fence. It was well that she did go, for in a few moments the house was threatened from a dozen quarters. The fence in the rear was crackling, and Mr. Turnbull went down into the cellar and began to shove off the blazing furniture from the windows. He worked away at this for some time, never dreaming that the fire was so near him, or that escape would soon be cut off. He had lost his hearing some years before, and did not hear the roar of the fire nor feel its approach. His son James was up-stairs battling with the fire, and Mr.

Frink was on the roof. James Turnbull, realizing in an instant the condition of his father and his infirmity, and knowing well the determined character of his nature, was about to rush into the cellar and tell him how near the fire was, when he turned and beheld a dark shadow in the doorway. It was coming towards him, and for a moment struck terror into his soul. The tall figure of a woman, deeply robed in black, holding up a long train in her hand, and with head-dress all aflame, stood before him in the hall. He advanced towards her, as soon as he could recover himself, and at once tore off the burning head-dress and stamped it with his foot. He then brushed the kindling sparks from her dress. She seemed demented and unable to understand the nature of these proceedings. Indeed she remonstrated with him, and begged him not to destroy her bonnet. _The fire had crazed her brain_, and after escaping from her house she had wandered into Mr. Turnbull's blazing residence, unheedful of the terrible burns she had received, and notwithstanding that she was on fire herself in several places. James, realizing the state of affairs at once, coaxed her to go with him to the cellar to see his father, but she hung back and implored him to leave her there. He was forced to drag her unwillingly along, and together they both arrived at the place where the father was still labouring to extinguish the fire that was coming from all sides. He knew nothing of the great headway that had been made upstairs, and had not even begun to realize the danger of his situation below. As soon as he saw the lady he told his son to go and fetch a mat and throw it over her, and he would be with them in a few minutes. This was done, but as often as this mat was wrapped around her, it was thrown off again. Some moments pa.s.sed, and Mr. Turnbull finding that he could do no more, resolved to leave the house. He and his son and the lady went upstairs where a sight that would have appalled a heart of stone met his eyes. All hope of escape through the alley in the rear was cut off. The house was on fire in the back. The flames were melting the roof in a dozen places. On either side the blaze was at its height, and not a moment was to be lost. Escape lay in one direction only, and that was hazardous in the extreme. _They must face the fire and escape by the front door_, or perish where they stood.

The position they were in was trying, but fortunately for them their nerves were strong, and they were cool and collected. And now they began preparing for the struggle. The warrior formerly buckled on his armour of steel before venturing on the fray, but the armour of the fire-fighters consisted of old coats and wet clothes. A coat was fastened around the lady, who was still unknown to Mr. Turnbull, and her head was covered. His son James enveloped in the same way, stood by her side. Mr. Turnbull tied a wet handkerchief across his mouth, and after putting a coat over his head, they began the memorable race for life.

James seized the lady, lifted her on his shoulders and followed his father out of the door. She was heavy, very tall, and had pa.s.sed in age the allotted three score and ten. In addition to this, she was unwilling to leave the house, and twice she had to be dragged away by main force from the sofa. In no instance did she seem to comprehend what was being done or how great her peril was. She was more concerned about her parasol and head-dress than she appeared to be about her own personal safety. James seemed endowed with superior strength, and he seized his burden with a sort of death grip from which despite her struggles, she could not escape. She afterwards became calmer, and while she made no attempt to get off his back, he had her full dead weight to carry. The three stepped into the street and walked into the furnace. The heat was intense, and holding down their heads they hurried along. They ran over blazing coals, and hands and feet burned to the very bone. They had not proceeded twenty-five yards from the house, which was situate near the corner of Main and Sydney Streets when they came upon a boat, thirty feet long, which was lying directly across their path on its side. They could not pa.s.s by the inside and had to go around by the bow. They were hastening along to Charlotte Street, and intended going down that street to the Ballast Wharf, and when the worst came the intention was to leap into the sea. But the lady grew very violent just as the boat was pa.s.sed a few feet, and refused to go any further. She straightened herself up, and slipping from James's shoulders, fell p.r.o.ne upon the ground. In vain she was reasoned with, in vain she was asked to make an effort, in vain she was appealed to, she would not move, but lay on her back helplessly, saying, "O leave me alone, leave me here, I'm very, very comfortable." The great fire, like a whirlwind, brushed against the exposed flesh of the three human beings, and wore it to the bone. It was like some invisible fiend. Before them they saw no flames, but a dead white heat that was all the more terrible because it could not be seen.

Every time the covering was removed from their heads as they sought to look out and see where they were going, this intense, imperceptible heat burned their very eyeb.a.l.l.s. The trees alongside were grasped by this unseen power, and their trunks were twisted and turned in its cobra-like embrace. Every thing in the road seemed charged with an element that appeared to draw the flames on. Though Main Street is one hundred and five feet wide, and the fire was for the most part confined to the houses on the side of the road, a cat could not run the gauntlet that night, and live. No one can realize the awful power of the heat, which the Messrs. Turnbull and the lady they were striving to save experienced on that thrilling march through the melting valley, without having pa.s.sed through a similar experience. It was a trial that can never be blotted from their memories.

So much time was lost in trying to induce their charge to continue on with them, that their chance of escape by Charlotte Street was cut off, and the only hope that remained now, was to return by the terrible route they had come. The battle had to be fought over again. The race back had to be run once more. The boat must be crossed again, they must go nearly two blocks forward, or die in their tracks. The street was full of smoke now, and flying embers alighted on their shoulders and burned their clothes, and the wild heat and the scorching flames were madly tearing through to their faces. Their charge remained as helpless as before, and there was something pitiable in her beseeching cries, that almost tempted them to accede to her request and leave her there in the street. But not a moment must now be lost, the fire-king was trampling down all before him. The two men seized her. She struggled and would not move. They dragged her to the boat, and she fell from their now powerless arms. Weakened by the fire, and sick at heart at their ill success, they could do no more, and could scarcely resist themselves the desire to stay there by the upturned boat, and yield their lives back to Him who gave them. The old lady fell back, and died with a smile upon her lips. The men, too weak to carry her further, placed her close by the boat, and shouted loudly for help. But the streets were bare of people, and no sound could be heard but their own voices rising above the crackling of the flames. They ran over the lava-like street, stopping every now and then to catch breath. On, on they sped, the youthful spirit of the one being roused when it lagged, by the inspiring words of the wiry and vigorous elder. It was a terrible journey, fraught by direful dangers on every side. Each foot of the way was gained by a struggle, every yard was won by a battle. It was not until Carmarthen Street was reached, that father and son could realize that they were saved. They removed the covering from their heads, and looked back at the road they had pa.s.sed. A moment more in that fire would have been their last. A figure was coming towards them, as they, arm in arm, almost reeled up Carmarthen Street, and it proved to be the brother of the woman Mr. Turnbull and his boy had tried to rescue. He was told that his sister was left by the boat dead, and that no earthly power could have saved her. One can imagine his agony when he learned these tidings.

The old lady proved to be Mrs. Reed, mother of Mr. T. M. Reed, a former mayor of the city. At three o'clock the next morning, Mr. Turnbull went back to Main Street, and on coming up to the unburned portion of the boat, found close by it, the remains of Mrs. Reed. Mrs. Reed lost in the fire two sisters--the Misses Clark, one of whom, it is thought, was burned in her house, on the corner of Sydney and Main Streets. These three ladies were highly respected and loved by all who knew them, and their afflicted relatives meet with the sympathy of all.

Mr. Turnbull's loss is very heavy and foots up fully twenty-five thousand dollars. He lost absolutely everything he possessed, and the deeds and bank-notes which he had in his safe were all burned. He does not despair now of being able to retrieve himself in some way. He was the first man to erect a wooden shanty and send a flag flying from its summit.

A large number of persons escaped from the resistless and giant-striding flames by means of rafts and small boats. Others got a friendly sail to Partridge Island in the tugs and steamers which approached the wharves whenever it was safe to do so. Many of those who were on Reed's Point Wharf and the Ballast Wharf got away in this manner.

The contingent of firemen from Portland worked with a will, and did much to check the flames--as much, indeed, as mortal man could do in a fire like this, with a high wind blowing a perfect gale all the time. The city firemen performed, with their brethren of the adjacent town, signal service. They drew lines round the burning buildings and tried again and again to confine the fire to one place, and prevent its spread. But the effort was futile. The flames broke down the lines, rose up in a hundred new places, and drove the firemen and their engines away from the spot.

Some splendid work was performed in the vicinity of King Street East, and down towards Pitt. Here they were partly successful, and did all that could be done under the circ.u.mstances. Many of them are heavy losers, having lost everything they had in their own houses, while they were engaged in trying to save those of others. In a fire which never ceased to rage at its height until it came to the water's brink, and which poured an unceasing stream of flame for nine steady hours, and which burned in fifteen sections of the city at once, it was a difficult matter for them with only four engines, to do anything like stopping the conflagration until it had spent itself, no matter how efficient and perfect the organization might be. No one expected the firemen to accomplish anything. There was something in the air which seemed to breed a sort of contagion, and the fire paralyzed buildings in a moment, and no one could tell how they caught. The fire struck men down where they were standing, and an invisible heat bore to the earth the trees on the sideways.

CHAPTER XIII.

A Chapter of Incidents--Agony on Board--Coming Up the Harbour --The Story of the Moths--The Newly Married Lady's Story--No Flour--Moving Out--Saving the Drugs--The Man with the Corn-Plasters--Incendiarism--Scenes--Thievery--The Newspapers --Enterprise--Blowing Down the Walls--An Act of Bravery--The Fatal Blast--Danger and Death in the Walls--Accidents--The Fire and the Churches--The Ministers.

As the "Empress" was steaming up the harbour, from Digby, on the night of the fire, the pa.s.sengers on board, many of whom belonged to St. John, beheld the city in flames. Some of them even saw from the water their own residences on fire, and witnessed the alarming rapidity of the flames and the almost powerless efforts of the people to stay their ravages. One can imagine the feelings of those pa.s.sengers who had left children at home, and who now began to experience the greatest anguish and suffering. What made the matter worse was, that some time had to elapse before the captain could venture to approach his wharf, and this added largely to the bitterness of the fathers and mothers on board. A mother who had left a little one in the city, while absent on a journey to Nova Scotia, told the writer that the agony she endured while making the approach to the city completely deadened and prostrated her. She grew perfectly helpless, and for a time nothing could rouse her from the seeming state of insensibility under which she sank. Those were terrible moments of suffering--awful moments of uncertainty.

Among the curious incidents of the fire which are constantly coming to the surface, is the rather good story which is told of one of our neatest housekeepers. Her house is noted for its spotlessness, and some who profess to know, say that such a thing as a spider's web could not be seen about the premises, even in the cellar or wood-shed. The lady has a natural abhorrence of those pests, the moths which _will_ get into our furs sometimes and defy all the camphor and snuff in existence to keep them out. One day, about six months ago, some handsome newly upholstered chairs were purchased, and duly placed in the parlour. In a week a moth was found in one of the new chairs, and there was much consternation thereat. The rest of the furniture was examined carefully, and the offending chair was sent to the upholsterer for his examination.

The result proved to the lady's satisfaction that she was right, and that the flock which had been put into the chair with the hair had caused all the mischief. The whole set was sent back to the furniture-man, and he was ordered to take the flock out. He returned them after a time, but in less than a week the persevering house-keeper succeeded in finding moths in every one of the chairs. She sent them to another upholsterer this time, and was awaiting their return when the fire occurred, and they were burned up, moths and all, while her own house was untouched.

A newly-married lady fearing the fire would reach her dwelling, succeeded in hiring a team, and putting into it her best furniture, bedding, husband's clothes, and all her silver, sent them up to her mother's house at about four o'clock in the afternoon. At six o'clock her mother's residence was burned down, and with it all that was in it, while her own house was about half a mile from the vicinity of the fire.

The lady was quite annoyed when the folks came in for a night's lodging that night, shortly after tea was over.

Considerable consternation prevailed among the people when it was known that nearly all the flour in town had been burned. The estimated loss was considered to be about fifty or sixty thousand barrels. One man is said to have hurried out and paid $18 for a barrel, while there were several persons who paid twenty cents a loaf for bread.

A good many people who feared the fire was coming their way moved out, and put their furniture, etc., in the street, and watched it till after midnight, when the expected flames not arriving, they marched the effects back again. The goods were almost as much damaged as if they had remained in the fire. Large quant.i.ties of material were lost in this way, and a lady saved an old pewter-box which once contained her husband's sleeve-b.u.t.tons and studs, while she wrapped the latter up in a bag and never saw them again.

Quite a number of cases of petty thieving occurred. A drug store, shortly before the fire came to it, was filled with a gang of roughs and pickpockets, who insisted on helping the proprietor to save a few things. They were saving them with a vengeance; opening every box and package that came in their way, and taking a dip out of each. One young man, whose face bore the picture of health, had managed to save, when detected, enough Blood Mixture to cure the scrofula in his family for the next fifteen years. Boys, who should have stolen soap, were going in for that excellent capillary restorer, Mrs. Allen's Zylobalsamum, and a man, hobbling along with a wooden leg, was filling his pockets with bunion and corn plasters. The boxes had a neat look, and he thought he would see the next day what the contents were good for. Everyone wanted to help, and one could not but admire the zeal with which these gentry emptied drawers and boxes on the floor, and scrambled for the contents.

One young gentleman in his anxiety to save a mirror-stand, which certainly could never be of any use to him, cut it in two and hastened away, leaving a drawer full of toothpicks, and a bottle of rat poison behind him, which he might have had just as well as not. A citizen, who said he felt dry after working so hard all day, regaled himself with a pint bottle of Ipecacuanha wine, and left immediately after it was down, to see how the fire was getting along in another place. One can never forget these little acts of kindness. It is the performance of deeds like these which exalts a nation, and makes us feel that the world is not altogether a fleeting show or a snare.

The cry of incendiarism was raised during the first days of the fire, and a good deal of alarm prevailed. Special constables patrolled the city, volunteer soldiers were placed on guard, and the policemen were ordered to be vigilant. Several arrests were made; but the greater portion of these were unnecessary, and, in nearly all cases, the persons arrested turned out to be noisy, drunken men, whose actions were misinterpreted by the officers. Some cases of incendiarism did really occur, however, and it was just as well that the city should be guarded, and the rougher element closely looked after. There is no doubt but that the fire at half-past two in the morning, in J. and T. Robinson's brick building, York Point Slip, was caused by the torch of the incendiary; and on Monday afternoon, a man was actually caught in the act of setting fire to Mrs. David Tapley's house in Indian-town. A good deal of talk about lynching was indulged in, but no one was lynched, though rumours came thick and fast, that one man had been shot, another hanged, and any number of people, according to the fertility of the narrator's imagination, were thrown into the sea. Drunkenness was rampant, and all saw how necessary it was that this evil should be stopped short. The licenses to the sellers could not be taken away, and it was optional with them whether they would listen to the appeals of the citizens or not. A committee, at a meeting of the people was appointed to ask the bar-tenders to close their bars for one week. To the credit of these gentlemen, be it said, they acceded to the request at once, and the bars were closed. This had a salutary effect on the morals of the community.

For days after the fire, stolen goods were being constantly recovered by the police and special constables. Large quant.i.ties were found concealed in houses situate a little distance away from the city, while even in the city limits, the officers met with a good deal of success in tracing articles that had been surrept.i.tiously carried off. Some outward-bound schooners arrived at their places of destination along the New Brunswick and Nova Scotia coasts, laden with spoils from the fire, but in most cases these were got back.

H. M. S. Argus arrived from Halifax with the Marine Artillery and some soldiers. A number of the sailors did patrol duty in Carleton, and the artillery spent several days blowing down the walls of the buildings, and doing other work entrusted to their care. A number of soldiers of the 97th Regiment also arrived from Halifax, and these together with a company of the 62nd Battalion of volunteers, and some men of the volunteer artillery under command of Lieutenant-Colonel Foster, the senior Lieutenant-Colonel of the Dominion, performed guard and other duty until the 6th of July, when the volunteers were disbanded, and the regulars were continued for a time. The men behaved excellently and did good service. They were all encamped in King's Square.

[Ill.u.s.tration: KING SQUARE AFTER THE FIRE, ENCAMPMENT OF THE 97TH REGIMENT.]

The U.S. Revenue Cutter "Gallatin" made two trips from Boston laden with supplies from the generous people there, for the relief of the sufferers by the fire.

With commendable enterprise, many of the merchants who were burned out, and could not secure premises in which to carry on their business, by permission of the authorities, erected shanties on King and Market Squares, which they promise to pull down before the first of May, 1878.

The city now looks quite primitive. Turn where you will, shanties of various sizes and styles meet the eye.

Some very good work was done at the ferry floats by the employes of the boat. Through their exertions the fire was kept away for a considerable time from the handsome new Magee Block, which stood on the corner of Water and Princess Streets. This building will be put up again at once.

The newspaper men were heavy losers, but nothing daunted, they went to work at once and lost no time. The _Telegraph_, through the courtesy of Mr. George W. Day, printer, was out on the very morning after the fire, with a smaller, but very spicy and interesting little sheet. The _Telegraph_ proprietor and editor, Mr. Elder, did not save even his fyles. The _Globe_ also did not lose an issue, and on Thursday evening it was as bright and attractive as usual, and contained an excellent account of the fire. The _Daily News_ lost its issue on Thursday, but on Sunday, the proprietors, Messrs. Willis & Mott, issued a very interesting paper, and so made up for what it lost on Thursday. The resume of the work of spoliation in this number of the _News_ was very graphic. The _Freeman_[R] did not issue a paper. The three princ.i.p.al papers immediately set to work buying type, paper, and presses, and in a fortnight after the fire, the _News_ was issued full size from a new press on the site of its old office. The _Globe_ and _Telegraph_ followed with new presses, &c., a day or two after. The _News_ and _Globe_ were issued after the fire for a few days from the _Weekly Herald_ office, Germain Street.

At the blowing down of the walls of the Post Office, an act of valour was performed by some men belonging to the volunteer Battery of Artillery, which deserves prominent mention. Major Cunard, Captain A. J.

Armstrong, and Lieutenants Inch and Ewing, together with a detachment of the Brigade of New Brunswick Artillery, under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel S. K. Foster, marched to Prince William Street, and proceeded to blow down the walls of the Post Office. Sentries were posted all round a circle of nearly two hundred yards, and everything being in readiness the work was begun. Two bags of powder were placed against the building with the length of spouting which would contain the port fire fuse that was to connect with the powder. Two charges went off and the effect on the walls was slight. The men thought of the expediency of placing a charge against the inside as well as one on the outside of the building. The trains were laid and the fuses lit, but some loose powder igniting in a moment with the train, it exploded with a deafening crash before the men could get away, and half of the wall facing Prince William Street, came down as if a thunder-bolt had struck it. Gunner John Nixon, of No. 2 Battery, was covered with the debris, but escaped uninjured, save a few scratches on the arm and a cut or two.

Gunner Walter Lamb, of No. 10 Battery, was stricken down and every one deemed him dead, the smoke and debris completely hiding him. The second 70lb blast was still burning and was momentarily expected to go off, when Lamb's hand was observed to rise over his head and touch his cap.

In a moment five men, unmindful of the terrible fate which threatened them, rushed in and bravely dragged from the ma.s.s of ruins, their fallen comrade. He was borne away just as the second charge went off with a roar, carrying away at a bound the remainder of the wall. Stones and bricks flew in every direction and John Anderson, who was standing in Germain Street, but whose presence there was unknown, fell badly wounded. He was conveyed to the hospital and died in a few days. The names of the five artillery men who behaved so bravely are, Lieutenant Inch, No. 10; Lieutenant Wm. King, No. 10; Corporal J. R. Andrews, No.

3; Corporal Anderson, No. 1; and Gunner R. McJunkin, No. 10. Captain Ring, of Carleton Battery, was standing within three paces of Gunner Lamb when he fell. His escape was certainly miraculous.

The pulling down of the walls has been attended by a good many accidents, some of them terminating seriously. A week after the fire some men were engaged in taking down the walls of the building in Dock Street, belonging to the Johnston estate. Two men were cleaning out the foundation at the same time. The wall trembled in the breeze, and the men looking up fled for their lives. One of them, James Wilkins escaped, but Thomas Sullivan was caught by the pile of bricks and his head was badly cut and his limbs bruised. A day or so after this accident, another one occurred which ended fatally. Some workmen were removing the rubbish from a building, when a wall that enclosed a vault of some seven or eight feet in height fell, and George Gallagher was buried in the ruins. He was taken to the Hospital (Dr. E. B. C.

Hanington, resident physician), and it was found that his spine was broken, his thigh fractured, and he had sustained serious injuries internally. He died in a few hours.

The Sunday after the fire, the ministers referred in their sermons to the very general conflagration, and its lessons. At St. Paul's Church, in the morning, Rev. Mr. De Veber preached. In the afternoon, the Rev.