Fighting the Flames

by R. M. Ballantyne

  CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.

  THE FIRE IN TOOLEY STREET.

  One of those great calamities which visit us once or twice, it may be,in a century, descended upon London on Saturday, the 22nd of June, 1861.It was the sudden, and for the time, overwhelming, attack of an old andunconquerable enemy, who found us, as usual, inadequately prepared tomeet him.

  Fire has fought with us and fed upon us since we became a nation, andyet, despite all our efforts, its flames are at this day more furiousthan ever. There are more fires daily in London now than there everwere before. Has this foe been properly met? is a question whichnaturally arises out of this fact. Referring to the beautifulorganisation of the present Fire Brigade, the ability of its chiefs andthe courage of its men, the answer is, Yes, decidedly. But referring tothe strength of the brigade; to the munitions of war in the form ofwater; to the means of conveyance in the form of mains; to the system ofcheck in the shape of an _effective_ Act in reference to partition-wallsand moderately-sized warehouses; to the means of prevention in the shapeof prohibitions and regulations in regard to inflammable substances--referring to all these things, the answer to the question, "Has the foebeen properly met?" is emphatically, _No_.

  It is not sufficient to reply that a special inquiry has been made intothis subject; that steps are being actually taken to remedy the evils ofour system (or rather of our want of system) of fire prevention. Goodmay or may not result from this inquiry: that is yet to be seen.Meanwhile, the public ought to be awakened more thoroughly to the factthat an enemy is and always has been abroad in our land, who might be,_if we chose_, more effectively checked; who, if he has not yet attackedour own particular dwelling, may take us by surprise any day when weleast expect him, and who does at all times very materially diminish ournational wealth and increase our public burdens. Perhaps we should notstyle _fire_ an enemy, but a mutinous servant, who does his workfaithfully and well, except when neglected or abused!

  About five o'clock on Saturday afternoon intelligence of the outbreak offire in Tooley Street reached the headquarters of the brigade in WatlingStreet.

  Fire in Tooley Street! The mere summons lent energy to the nerves andspring to the muscles of the firemen. Not that Tooley Street in itselfis more peculiarly dangerous in regard to fire than are the otherstreets of shops in the City. But Tooley Street lies in dangerousneighbourhood. The streets between it and the Thames, and those lyingimmediately to the west of it, contain huge warehouses and bondedstores, which are filled to suffocation with the "wealth of nations."Dirty streets and narrow lanes here lead to the fountain-head of wealthuntold--almost inconceivable. The elegant filigree-work of West Endluxury may here be seen unsmelted, as it were, and in the ore. At thesame time the rich substances on which fire feeds and fattens are storedhere in warehouses which (as they are) should never have been built, andin proximities which should never have been permitted. Examine thewharves--Brooks' Wharf, Beal's Wharf, Cotton's Wharf, Chamberlain'sWharf, Freeman's Wharf, Griffin's Wharf, Stanton's Wharf, and others.Investigate the lanes--Hay's Lane, Mill Lane, Morgan's Lane; and thestreets--Bermondsey, Dockhead, Pickle Herring Street, Horsleydown, andothers--and there, besides the great deposit and commission warehouseswhich cover acres of ground, and are filled from basement to ridge-polewith the commodities and combustibles of every clime, you will find hugegranaries and stores of lead, alum, drugs, tallow, chicory, flour, rice,biscuit, sulphur, and saltpetre, mingled with the warehouses ofcheese-agents, ham-factors, provision merchants, tarpaulin-dealers, oiland colour merchants, etcetera. In fact, the entire region seems laidout with a view to the raising of a bonfire or a pyrotechnic display onthe grandest conceivable scale.

  Little wonder, then, that the firemen of Watling Street turned out alltheir engines, including two of Shand and Mason's new land-steamfire-engines, which had at that time just been brought into action.Little wonder that the usual request for a man from each station waschanged into an urgent demand for every man that could possibly bespared.

  The fire began in the extensive wharves and warehouses known as Cotton'sWharf, near London Bridge, and was first observed in a warehouse over acounting-room by some workmen, who at once gave the alarm, and attemptedto extinguish it with some buckets of water. They were quickly drivenback, however, by the suffocating smoke, which soon filled the variousfloors so densely that no one could approach the seat of the fire.

  Mr Braidwood, who was early on the spot, saw at a glance that a pitchedbattle was about to be fought, and, like a wise general, concentratedall the force at his command. Expresses were sent for the more distantbrigade engines, and these came dashing up, one after another, at fullspeed. The two powerful steam floating-engines which guard the Thamesfrom fire were moored off the wharf, two lengths of hose attached tothem, and led on shore and brought to bear on the fire. A number ofland-engines took up a position in Tooley Street, ready for action, butthese were compelled to remain idle for nearly an hour _before water wasobtainable from the fire-plugs_. O London! with all your wealth andwisdom, how strange that such words can be truly written of you!

  The vessels which were lying at the wharf discharging and loading werehauled out of danger into the stream.

  In course of time the engines were in full play, but the warehouse burstinto flames from basement to roof in spite of them, and ere long eightof the great storehouses were burning furiously. The flames made rapidwork of it, progressing towards the line of warehouses facing the river,and to the lofty building which adjoined on the Tooley Street side.

  Dale and his men were quickly on the scene of action, and had theirengine soon at work. Before long, Frank Willders joined them. Theywere playing in at the windows of a large store, which was burning sofuriously that the interior appeared to be red-hot.

  "Relieve Corney, lad," said Dale, as Frank came forward.

  "Och, it's time!" cried Corney, delivering up the branch to Frank andMoxey; "sure Baxmore and me are melted intirely."

  Frank made no reply. He and Moxey directed the branch which the othersresigned, turning their backs as much as possible on the glowing fire,and glancing at it over their shoulders; for it was too hot to be faced.

  Just then the Chief of the brigade came up.

  "It's of no use, sir," said Dale; "we can't save these."

  "True, Dale, true," said Mr Braidwood, in a quick, but quiet tone;"this block is doomed. Take your lads round to the nor'-east corner; wemust try to prevent it spreading."

  As he surveyed the progress of the fire, with a cool, practical eye, andhurried off to another part of the battle-field to post his men to bestadvantage, little did the leader of the forces think that he was to bethe first to fall that day!

  Engines were now playing on the buildings in all directions; but theflames were so fierce that they made no visible impression on them, andeven in the efforts made to check their spreading, little successappeared to attend them at first. Warehouse after warehouse ignited.

  To make matters worse, a fresh breeze sprang up, and fanned the flamesinto redoubled fury; so that they quickly caught hold of vast portionsof the premises occupied by the firm of Scovell and Company.

  "There's not a chance," said Frank to Dale, while he wiped theperspiration from his forehead, and sat down for a few seconds torecover breath; for he had just issued from a burning building, drivenback by heat and smoke--

  "There's not a chance of saving that block; all the iron doors that weremeant to keep the fire from spreading have been left open by theworkmen!"

  "Chance or no chance, we must do our best," said Dale. "Come, lad, withme; I think we may get at a door inside the next warehouse, throughwhich we might bring the branch to bear. Are you able?"

  "All right," exclaimed Frank, leaping up, and following his leaderthrough the smoke.

  "Have a care!" cried Frank, pausing as a tremendous explosion caused theground to tremble under their feet.

  "It's sulphur or saltpetre," said Dale, pushing on; "there are tons upon
tons of that stuff in the cellars all round."

  This was indeed the case. It was said that upwards of 2,000 tons ofsaltpetre were in the vaults at the time; and several explosions hadalready taken place, though fortunately, without doing injury to anyone.

  Dale had already partially examined the warehouse, into which he now ledFrank; and, therefore, although it was full of smoke, he moved rapidlyalong the narrow and intricate passages between the bales of goods,until he reached an iron door.

  "Here it is; we'll open this and have a look," he said, grasping thehandle and swinging the heavy door open.

  Instantly, a volume of black smoke drove both the men back, almostsuffocating them. They could not speak; but each knew that there-closing of that iron door was all-important, for the fire had gotnearer to it than Dale had imagined.

  They both darted forward; but were again driven back, and had to rush tothe open air for breath. Frank recovered before his comrade, inconsequence of the latter having made a more strenuous and prolongedeffort to close the door which he had so unfortunately opened.

  Without a moment's hesitation, he sprang into the warehouse again;regained and partially closed the door, when the stifling smoke chokedhim, and he fell to the ground. A few seconds later, Dale followed him,and found him there. Applying his great strength with almost superhumanenergy to the door, it shut with a crash, and the communication betweenthe buildings was cut off! Dale then seized Frank by the collar, anddragged him into the open air, when he himself almost sank to theground. Fresh air, however, soon restored them both, and in a fewminutes they were actively engaged at another part of the building.

  Bravely and perseveringly though this was done, it availed not, fornothing could withstand the fury of the fire. The warehouse caught, andwas soon a glowing mass like the others, while the flames raged withsuch violence that their roaring drowned the shouting of men, and themore distant roar of the innumerable multitude that densely coveredLondon Bridge, and clustered on every eminence from which a safe view ofthe great fire could be obtained.

  The floating fire-engines had now been at work for some time, and themen in charge of their branches were suffering greatly from the intenseheat. About this time, nearly seven o'clock in the evening, MrBraidwood went to these men to give them a word of encouragement. Heproceeded down one of the approaches to the river from Tooley Street,and stopped when nearly half way to give some directions, when a suddenand tremendous explosion, took place, shaking the already totteringwalls, which at this place were of great height. A cry was raised,"Run! the wall is falling!" Every one sprang away at the word. Thewall bulged out at the same time; and one of the firemen, seeing thatMr Braidwood was in imminent danger, made a grasp at him as he wasspringing from the spot; but the heavy masses of brick-work dashed himaway, and, in another moment, the gallant chief of the Fire Brigade layburied under at least fifteen feet of burning ruin.

  Any attempt at rescue would have been impossible as well as unavailing,for death must have been instantaneous. The hero's warfare with theflames, which had lasted for upwards of thirty-eight years, was ended;and his brave spirit returned to God Who gave it.

  That a man of no ordinary note had fallen was proved, before many hourshad passed, by the deep and earnest feeling of sorrow and sympathy whichwas manifested by all classes in London, from Queen Victoria downwards,as well as by the public funeral which took place a few days afterwards,at which were present the Duke of Sutherland, the Earl of Caithness, theReverend Doctor Cumming, and many gentlemen connected with the insuranceoffices; the committee and men of the London Fire Brigade; also those ofvarious private and local brigades; the secretary and conductors of theRoyal Society for the Protection of Life from Fire; the mountedMetropolitan and City police; the London Rifle Brigade (of which MrBraidwood's three sons were members); the superintendents and men of thevarious water companies; and a long string of private and mourningcarriages: to witness the progress of which hundreds of thousands ofpeople densely crowded the streets and clustered in the windows and onevery available eminence along the route; while in Cheapside almost allthe shops were shut and business was suspended; and in the neighbourhoodof Shoreditch toiling thousands of artisans came forth from factory andworkshop to "see the last of Braidwood," whose name had been so longfamiliar to them as a "household word." The whole heart of Londonseemed to have been moved by one feeling, and the thousands who throngedthe streets "had" (in the language of one of the papers of the day)"gathered together to witness the funeral, not of a dead monarch, not ofa great warrior, not of a distinguished statesman, not even of a manfamous in art, in literature, or in science, but simply of JamesBraidwood, late superintendent of the London Fire-EngineEstablishment"--a true hero, and one who was said, by those who knew himbest, to be an earnest Christian man.

  But at the moment of his fall his men were engaged in the thick ofbattle. Crushing though the news of his death was, there was nobreathing time to realise it.

  The fierce heat had not only driven back the firemen on shore, but hadcompelled the floating fire-engines to haul off, in consequence of theflaming matter which poured over the wharf wall and covered the surfaceof the river the entire length of the burning warehouses; while thewhole of the carriageway of Tooley Street was ankle deep in hot oil andtallow. After the fall of their Chief, Messrs. Henderson and Fogo, twoof the principal officers of the brigade, did their utmost to direct theenergies of the men.

  Night closed in, and the flames continued to rage in all their fury andmagnificence. News of this great fire spread with the utmost rapidityover the metropolis. Indeed, it was visible at Hampstead while it wasyet daylight. When darkness set in, one of the most extraordinaryscenes that London ever produced was witnessed. From all quarters thepeople came pouring in, on foot, in omnibus, cab, pleasure-van, cart,and waggon--all converging to London Bridge. At nine o'clock the bridgeand its approaches presented all the appearance of the Epsom Road on theDerby Day. Cabs and 'buses plied backwards and forwards on the bridgeall night, carrying an unlimited number of passengers at 2 pence and 3pence each, and thousands of persons spent the night in thus passing toand fro. The railway terminus, Billingsgate Market, the roof of theCoal Exchange, the Monument, the quays, the windows, the house-tops, thesteeples, and the chimney-stalks--all were crowded with human beings,whose eager upturned faces were rendered intensely bright against thesurrounding darkness by the fierce glare of the fire. But the Thamespresented the most singular appearance of all--now reflecting on itsbosom the inky black clouds of smoke; anon the red flames, as fresh fuelwas licked up by the devouring element, and, occasionally, sheets ofsilver light that flashed through the chaos when sulphur and saltpetreexplosions occurred. Mountains of flame frequently burst away from themass of burning buildings and floated upward for a few moments, and thetallow and tar which flowed out of the warehouses floated away blazingwith the tide and set the shipping on fire, so that land and water alikeseemed to be involved in one huge terrific conflagration.

  The utmost consternation prevailed on board the numerous craft on theriver in the vicinity of the fire, for thick showers of sparks andburning materials fell incessantly. Gusts of wind acted on the ruinsnow and then, and at such moments the gaunt walls, cracked and riven outof shape, stood up, glowing with intense white heat in the midst of asea of fire from which red flames and dark clouds of smoke were vomited,as from the crater of some mighty volcano, with a roar that mingled withthe shouts of excited thousands, and drowned even the dull incessantthumpings of the engines that worked in all directions.

  Moored alongside of Chamberlain's Wharf was a small sloop. Little blueblisters of light broke out on her rigging; soon these increased insize, and in a few minutes she was on fire from stem to stern.Immediately after, there came a barge with flowing sails, borne on therising tide. She passed too near to the conflagration. Her crew ofthree men became panic-stricken and lost control of her. At sight ofthis a great shout was raised, and a boat put off and rescued the crew;but
almost before they were landed their barge was alight from stem tostern. The tremendous cheer that burst from the excited multitude atsight of this rescue rose for a moment above the roaring of theconflagration. Then another barge was set on fire by the blazing tallowwhich floated out to her, but she was saved by being scuttled.

  In the midst of such a scene it was to be expected that there would bedamage to life and limb. The firemen, besides being exposed to intenseheat for hours, were almost blinded and choked by the smoke emitted fromthe burning pepper--more especially the cayenne--of which there was alarge quantity in the warehouses. Some of the men who were working theengines fell into the river and were drowned. A gentleman who wasassisting the firemen had his hand impaled on an iron spike. A poorIrishman had his neck broken by the chain of the floating-engine, andseveral of the police force and others were carried to hospital badlyburned and otherwise injured.

  Some of the casualties occurred in places where only a few persons werethere to witness them, but others were enacted on the river, and onspots which were in full view of the vast multitudes on London Bridge.A boat containing five men put off to collect the tallow which floatedon the water, but it got surrounded by tallow which had caught fire, andthe whole of its occupants were either burned to death or drowned.Later in the night a small skiff rowed by a single man was drawn by thetide into the vortex of the fire. Another boat ran out and saved theman, but a second boat which was pulled off by a single rower for thesame purpose was drawn too near the fire, and its brave occupantperished. So eager were the multitude on the bridge to witness thesescenes that some of themselves were forced over the parapet into theriver and drowned.

  Comical incidents were strangely mingled with these awful scenes,although it is but justice to say the prevailing tone of the crowd wasone of solemnity. Itinerant vendors of ginger-beer, fruit, cakes, andcoffee ranged themselves along the pavements and carried on a brisktrade--especially after the public-houses were closed, many of which,however, taking advantage of the occasion, kept open door all night.

  Among these last was the "Angel," belonging to Gorman.

  That worthy was peculiarly active on this occasion. He never neglectedan opportunity of turning an honest penny, and, accordingly, had beenengaged from an early hour in his boat collecting tallow; of whichplunder a considerable amount had been already conveyed to his abode.

  Besides Gorman, several of the other personages of our tale found theirway to the great centre of attraction, London Bridge, on that night.Among them was John Barret, who, on hearing of the fire, had left hissnug little villa and pretty little wife to witness it.

  He had already made one or two cheap trips on one of the omnibuses, and,about midnight, got down and forced his way to a position near the southside of the bridge. Here he was attracted to a ginger-beer barrow whichan unusually adventurous man had pushed through the crowd into asheltered corner. He forced his way to it, and, to his amazement, foundthe owner to be his former friend Ned Hooper.

  "Hallo! Barret."

  "Why, Ned!" were the exclamations that burst simultaneously from theirlips.

  "This is a strange occupation," said Barret with a smile.

  "Ah, it may seem strange to you, no doubt, but it's familiar enough tome," replied Ned, with a grin.

  The demand for beer was so great at this time that Ned could notcontinue the conversation.

  "Here, boy," he said to an urchin who stood near, "you draw corks asfast as you can and pour out the beer, and I'll give you a copper or twoand a swig into the bargain."

  The boy accepted the post of salesman with alacrity, and Ned turned tohis friend and seized his hand.

  "Barret," said he, in a low, earnest voice, "if I succeed in holdingout, I own my salvation, under God, to you. I've tasted nothing butginger-beer for many a long day, and I really believe that I have got myenemy down at last. It's not a lucrative business, as you may see," headded with a sad smile, glancing at his threadbare garments, "nor a veryaristocratic one."

  "My dear Ned," cried Barret, interrupting, and suddenly thrusting hishand into his pocket.

  "No, Barret, no," said Ned firmly, as he laid his hand on the other's,arm; "I don't want money; I've given up begging. You gave me youradvice once, and I have taken that--it has been of more value to me thanall the wealth that is being melted into thin air, John, by yonderfire--"

  Ned was interrupted at this point by a burst of laughter from the crowd.The cause of their mirth was the appearance of a tall, thin, and verylugubrious-looking man who had come on the bridge to see the fire. Hehad got so excited that he had almost fallen over the parapet, and apoliceman had kindly offered to escort him to a place of safety.

  "Why, what d'ye mean?--what d'ye take me for?" cried the tall manangrily; "I'm an honest man; my name is David Boone; I've only come tosee the fire; you've no occasion to lay hold o' _me_!"

  "I know that," said the policeman; "I only want to get you out ofdanger. Come along now."

  Just then a thickset man with a red handkerchief tied round his headcame forward to the stall and demanded a glass of beer. The moment hiseyes encountered those of Boone he became pale as death and staggeredback as if he had received a deadly blow.

  "Is that you, Gorman?" cried David, in a voice and with an expression ofamazement.

  Gorman did not reply, but gazed at his former friend with a look ofintense horror, while his chest heaved and he breathed laboriously.Suddenly he uttered a loud cry and rushed towards the river.

  Part of the crowd sprang after him, as if with a view to arrest him, orto see what he meant to do. In the rush Barret and Boone were carriedaway.

  A few moments later a deep murmur of surprise rose from the thousands ofspectators on the bridge, for a boat was seen to dash suddenly from theshore and sweep out on the river. It was propelled by a single rower--aman with a red kerchief tied round his head. The murmur of the crowdsuddenly increased to a shout of alarm, for the man was rowing, his boatstraight towards a mass of tallow which floated and burned on the water.

  "Hold on!" "Lookout ahead!" shouted several voices, while othersscreamed "Too late!" "He's gone!" and then there arose a wild cry, forthe man rowed straight into the centre of the burning mass and wasenveloped in the flames. For one moment he was seen to rise and swinghis arms in the air--then he fell backwards over the gunwale of his boatand disappeared in the blazing flood.

  Fiercer and fiercer raged the fire. The night passed--the day came andwent, and night again set in--yet still the flames leaped and roared inresistless fury, and still the firemen fought them valiantly. And thusthey fought, day and night, hand to hand, for more than a fortnight,before the battle was thoroughly ended and the victory gained.

  How the firemen continued to do their desperate work, day and night,almost without rest, it is impossible to tell. Frank Willders saidthat, after the first night, he went about his work like a man in adream. He scarcely knew when, or how, or where he rested or ate. Hehad an indistinct remembrance of one or two brief intervals of oblivionwhen he supposed he must have been asleep, but the only memory thatremained strong and clear within him was that of constant, determinedfighting with the flames. And Willie Willders followed him like hisshadow! clad in a coat and helmet borrowed from a friend in the SalvageCorps. Willie fought in that great fight as if he had been a trainedfireman.

  On the fourth day, towards evening, Frank was ordered down into a cellarwhere some tar-barrels were burning. He seized the branch, and wasabout to leap down the stair when Dale stopped him.

  "Fasten the rope to your belt," he said.

  Frank obeyed without speaking and then sprang forward, while Dalehimself followed, ordering Corney, Baxmore, and one or two others, tohold on to the ropes. Willie Willders also ran in, but was met by sucha dense cloud of smoke that he was almost choked. Rushing back, heshouted, "Haul on the ropes!"

  The men were already hauling them in, and in a few seconds Dale andFrank were dragged by their waist-belts into
the open air, the formernearly, and the latter quite, insensible.

  In a few minutes they both recovered, and another attempt was made toreach the fire in the cellar, but without success.

  The public did not witness this incident. The firemen were almostsurrounded by burning ruins, and none but comrades were there.

  Indeed, the public seldom see the greatest dangers to which the firemanis exposed. It is not when he makes his appearance on some giddy heighton a burning and tottering house, and is cheered enthusiastically by thecrowd, that his courage is most severely tried. It is when he has tocreep on hands and knees through dense smoke, and hold the branch in theface of withering heat, while beams are cracking over his head, andburning rubbish is dropping around, and threatening to overwhelm him--itis in such circumstances, when the public know nothing of what is goingon, and when no eye sees him save that of the solitary comrade whoshares his toil and danger, that the fireman's nerve and endurance aretested to the uttermost.

  After leaving the cellar, Dale and his men went to attempt to check thefire in a quarter where it threatened to spread, and render this--thegreatest of modern conflagrations--equal to the great one of 1666.

  "We might reach it from that window," said Dale to Frank, pointing to ahouse, the sides of which were already blistering, and the glasscracking with heat.

  Frank seized the branch and gained the window in question, but could notdo anything very effective from that point. He thought, however, thatfrom a window in an adjoining store he might play directly on a housewhich was in imminent danger. But the only means of reaching it was bypassing over a charred beam, thirty feet beneath which lay a mass ofsmouldering ruins. For one moment he hesitated, uncertain whether ornot the beam would sustain his weight. But the point to be gained wasone of great importance, so he stepped boldly forward, carrying thebranch with him. As he advanced, the light of the fire fell brightlyupon him, revealing his tall figure clearly to the crowd, which cheeredhim heartily.

  At that moment the beam gave way. Willie, who was about to follow, hadbarely time to spring back and gain a firm footing, when he beheld hisbrother fall headlong into the smoking ruins below.

  In another moment he had leaped down the staircase, and was at Frank'sside. Baxmore, Dale, Corney, and others, followed, and, in the midst offire and smoke, they raised their comrade in their arms and bore him toa place of safety.

  No one spoke, but a stretcher was quickly brought, and Frank wasconveyed in a state of insensibility to the nearest hospital, where hismanly form--shattered, burned, and lacerated--was laid on a bed. Hebreathed, although he was unconscious and evinced no sign of feelingwhen the surgeons examined his wounds.

  A messenger was despatched for Mrs Willders, and Willie remained towatch beside him while his comrades went out to continue the fight.