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 passengers 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 passengers 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 quantities of material were lost in this way, and a lady saved an old pewter-box which once contained her husband's sleeve-buttons 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 quantities 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 surreptitiously 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.
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 principal 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 mass 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. Mr. Mather, and in the evening, Rev. Mr. Brigstocke, of Trinity, officiated. Rev. Mr. Windeyer preached both morning and evening in his church, the Reformed Episcopal. Rev. S. P. Fay, a Bangor clergyman, preached in the Union Street Congregational Church, morning and evening. Rev. James Bennet preached in St. John's Presbyterian in the morning, and Rev. A. McL. Stavely in the afternoon. Rev. Dr. D. Maclise, in the morning preached in Calvin Church; and in the evening, Rev. Mr. Mitchell, of St. Andrew's Kirk, preached. The Exmouth Street Church held three services, Rev. Mr. Duke in the morning, Rev. Howard Sprague in the afternoon, and in the evening Revs. Messrs. Hartt and Sprague addressed the congregation. Rev. Mr. Fowler preached in Carleton Presbyterian Church in the morning, and there was no service in the evening. The Baptist pulpit was occupied by Rev. Mr. Hickson, the pastor, both morning and evening. Rev. Theodore Dowling preached in St. George's Church. At the Free Christian Church, Rev. George Hartley preached in the afternoon. At the Portland Baptist Church, Rev. Mr. McLellan, the pastor, preached morning and evening. The Portland Methodist Church had Rev. Mr. Barrett in the morning, and Rev. Mr. Teed in the evening. St. Luke's, Portland, had sermons from Rev. Mr. Almon, the rector. Brussels Street Church had Rev. Mr. Alexander. At the Roman Catholic Cathedral, at nine o'clock mass, Bishop Sweeny addressed the congregation, and at eleven, Bishop Power, of Newfoundland, preached. Rev. Mr. Wills delivered a sermon at the Unitarian Hall; and in the St. Stephen Presbyterian Church, Rev. D. Macrae preached in the morning, and the Rev. Mr. Donald, of Port Hope, in the evening.[S]
Thirty-nine orphans were kindly taken care of by Mr. R. B. Graham, the visiting agent of the Baldwin Place Home for Little Wanderers, who carried them to Boston, Massachusetts.
Some months ago a clever poem in several books, entitled "On the Hills," from the pen of a Nova Scotia lady of excellent reputation as a writer, Mrs. Morton, née Irene S. Elder, was placed in the hands of Wm. Elder, Esq., of the St. John's Daily Telegraph, to read. On the day of the fire, he put this manuscript in his safe, for protection. When the safe was opened, the manuscript was found quite legible. The scene of the poem is laid in our sister province, and it is said to contain some genuine touches of true poetry.
Apropos of manuscripts, it may be said that Prof. Wm. Lyall, of Halifax, lost a very valuable treatise "On the Emotions," which was burned in Mr. Stewart's safe, King street. Mr. W. P. Dole lost all his sonnets, and his late paper "On Definitions," upon which he had expended a good deal of time.
FOOTNOTES:
[R] The Freeman will be issued shortly as a daily.
[S] Rev. Geo. M. Armstrong preached in Stone Church, (built 1824) and on the Sabbath following the Bishop of Fredericton preached in the same church.
CHAPTER XIV.
"I went againe to the ruines, for it was no longer a Citty"—the Drive by Moonlight—Through the Ruins—After the Fire—A City of Ashes—The Buried Silver—The Sentinel Chimneys—The Home of Luxuriance—A Recollection—The Moon and the Church—Back Again.
Shelley's white-orbed maiden sits in the sky, and already her pale torch is silvering the peaks of the ruins. Let us take a carriage, and drive round the desolate city, slowly and softly, and view the giant wreck which the fire has made. There is no better time than the present. The moon is up, and quietness reigns. It is as light as day. We will drive first to the barrack-ground, and look up the long hills. Three days have passed, and the first excitement is now over. A thousand weary pilgrims have made the journey to this desert of desolation a hundred times since the fire, and vainly dug on the site where their homes once were, for relics, or perhaps something more. Why, look there! it is past midnight, and those three men you see working by that blackened wall, seem so wrapped up in their occupation, that they scarcely speak to one another, or note the presence of any one but themselves. See, they are carrying away the still hot bricks, and throwing into the street bits of iron and charred wood. Look, watch them for a moment—witness how they—
And dig, dig, dig, among ruins overthrown;
Spade, and basket, and pick, the toiling Arabs ply."
How monotonous the work appears, and how strangely weird everything looks. To speak now, and hail these men, would break the charm—would interrupt the gaunt and gloomy silence of the place. But the presence of these excavators, at such an hour as this, arouses our curiosity. We know that the standard authorities tell us, that no matter how deeply men may dig for the pirate's buried treasure, if any one speaks during the performance of the work, the spell becomes broken, the enchantment passes away, and the iron box of doubloons vanishes. We have no means of disputing this, and wouldn't if we could. We have no desire to attempt to prove the contrary, but rather incline to the belief that the authorities are right, for we have it on the word of a gentleman who once owned a mineral rod, and whose word is undoubted, that a certain Miss Pitts, who was engaged all her life in digging about the gardens of her neighbours, and who never found anything up to the day of her death, confessed to him during her last illness, that her tongue had spoiled all. Had she but kept quiet when her spade struck the iron-box, all would have been well. But her joy was so great at the sight of the treasure, that she couldn't contain herself longer, and giving utterance to her feelings she spoke, and the box of course, immediately sank. The truth of this narrative can be established by excellent witnesses, and Miss Pitts, whatever her other faults might be, had always a splendid reputation for veracity. She made and sold mineral rods too, and, in explaining their miraculous properties, gave out the advice that, by a judicious and constant use of her peculiar make of mineral rod, the whole world might speedily become rich, and at very trifling cost, thus exhibiting a vein of disinterestedness, as generous as it was rare. We say then, in the face of all this, and at the risk of destroying what happiness yet remained in the minds of the men who were thus toiling through the ghostly hour of twelve, we drew rein and hailed them. We couldn't help it. Our curiosity got the better of us, and we asked them what they were digging for. They were hunting for treasures, truly, not the pirate's though, but their own. During the fire, and unable to hire a team at any price, they had dug a deep hole in the cellar of the house and buried there, what jewelry and silver-ware they could scrape together. They were now hunting for it, and eventually they found it, in not even a discoloured state.
But let us go on. A very pleasant wind is fanning our foreheads, and there is a charm about this drive which we never experienced before. A grim charm truly, but nevertheless, a charm after all. Are we not going to see the ruins. The ruins which came to us in a night—the heritage of the fire. We have a Dunga and a Dugga, and a Carthage of our own. In a few brief hours we had a desolation here, which, in other lands it took great centuries to create. We have crumbling ruins, and shapeless masses of stone in the very heart of a community which boasted, but a short time before, of a civilization and an enterprise unsurpassed the world over. Let the eye wander as we pass along the deserted streets, and take in the full view as it appears. What a fascination there is about this district of sorrow. Why is it we pause, and wonder if Troy ever looked like this; or the ruins of Sodom stood out against the sky like that house there, this edifice here or that once noble structure beyond. All, all is desolation, all blackness, despair, decay and misery. Look at those ponderous walls, which defied the flames to the last. See they are still standing, broken it is true, but standing proudly and defiantly for all that. See, the moon is throwing her light upon that church yonder. See how she dances, now high, now low, look, she disappears behind the tall wall, and all we see for a moment is a dark shadow. Now there she is again. Here comes the glittering Cynthia with her robes of white. She is coming along up, up, up by that angle there. Now she is soaring along the sky. Now she seems to stand right over our heads. How light it is. How bright and beautiful the moon is to-night. How playful the mad thing is, how merrily and joyously she disports herself in the heavens, and yet how kindly she turns her sympathetic face on the vale below. She sails along, casting lingering and tearful glances on the havoc-stricken land.
We will drive over to that eminence there and look at the squares of ruins, and notice the fragments of columns which remain. Turn your head round, and look at those sentinel chimneys standing so erect, and so regularly in line. Ah, that is where the old barrack stood, and those chimneys, no doubt, heard many a well-told tale of the bivouac and the battle-field. Could they but speak to-night, what reminiscence would they relate of Lucknow and Cawnpore, of the Heights of Alma, and bloody plain of Inkerman. What stories would they tell you of the gallant fellows who on bleak winter nights gathered round their base, and chatted and talked of battles fought and won, and the great deeds of bravery they had seen. These high chimneys have many bits of history locked within them which the world shall never know. They stood there when the city was almost as bare of houses as it is now. They have seen the busy workman, and heard the sound of his axe and saw; they have seen the city grow more and more strong and beautiful; they have watched its growth from a mere hamlet to a metropolis; they have witnessed the erection of noble structures on sites where trees and bushes flourished before; they have seen St. John on the morning of the 20th June prosperous, enterprising, and full of energy and life; and they have seen her again before the sun went down, stricken to the earth, with her buildings in ruins, and the work of almost a hundred years in ashes. The old sentries keep guard to-night, blackened and bared.
Turn the horse a little this way. Now look up the street. Do you see that pile of bricks and mortar and those heavy stones lying near? That debris is all that is left of a house where in my youth, I spent many happy hours. I must take you into my confidence and tell you that the owner of that house is to-day a poor man. The day before the fire he was comparatively comfortable, rich I should call it, but the way wealth is computed now-a-days, I will content myself with saying that he was comfortably off. He had his carriage and horses—such splendid drivers, and how well he kept them—he had a library, and such books, and he knew what was in them too. History, belles-lettres, biography, science, all departments were here. You could read if you chose on an idle afternoon, in that alcove off the library, over there, a few feet from those bricks, anything your fancy dictated. I used to love to sit there and pull down his books—not to read them always, but merely to skim the cream off a dozen or so of them of an afternoon. He had some charming old books which he always kept in the extreme corner of his case. I remember with what awe I used to approach this section, and take down from the shelf his luxuriant copy of Milton, printed early in the eighteenth century, and illustrated with a grand old portrait of the blind bard. I read Pope's Homer here for the first time, and actually waded through the Chesterfield Letters. I used to sit over towards the left of where we are now, just close to that old stove-pipe which you can just see peeping through the bricks. I may live many years, or I may pass away to-night, but I shall never forget that dear old house, and the many happy, happy hours I spent there. Come away. Something seems to choke me, and one wants all his strength these days. Continue along in this direction. We shall see all that is left of many beautiful houses from here. There's the Wiggins' Orphan Asylum. The tower and the walls are there. What exquisite ruins they are. Let us look at them awhile. One can almost fancy he has seen somewhere a picture of the remains of an edifice that looked like this. I can almost hear the guide tapping his cane on the walls, and telling me to note how excellently preserved the building is, and how admirably the builders put it up. See how solid and strong it is, and hardly a discoloration marks its handsome front. That dingy and dismal-looking old wooden building near at hand is the Marine Hospital—that was saved all right.
Did you notice the jagged, fringe-like edges of that building which we passed just now, in that bend near the road? How intense the heat must have been there to wear it down like that. And did you observe that wooden door lying in the vestibule scarcely touched by the flames, while everything around it was burned to a crisp? What odd freaks the fire takes sometimes. Drive a little faster keep well to the left. The streets are full of stones and broken brick yet. We are now coming past Queen Square, and let us look in a moment on Mecklenburg Street. What a beautiful sight those burning coals make in Mr. Vaughan's house. You can see better by the left, there, now stop. See the pale light is above, the deep blood-red light is below. What a curious meeting. You can scarcely see the dividing line between them. Drive through the street to Carmarthen, take in on the way Mr. Nicholson's Castle, and the houses of Messrs. Magee on the left, and before you turn up the street look at that immense mass of burning coals belonging to the Gas Company, blazing away like some volcano in a state of eruption. There are smouldering fires all round the city, and ruins upon ruins meet us at every turn. My heart sickens at the sight. Let us drive home. We have visited the ruins by moonlight.
CHAPTER XV.
Aid for St. John—The First Days—How the Poor were Fed—Organization of the St. John Relief and Aid Society—Its System—How it Operates—The Rink—The Car-shed—List of Moneys and Supplies Received—The Noble Contributions.
No sooner was it known abroad that a great fire had swept away the principal portion of St. John, and that thousands of people walked the streets, homeless and hungry, than, with wonderful unanimity, generous offers of aid came pouring in from all sides, for the relief of the ruined city. Large sums of money, cargoes of supplies, and carloads of breadstuffs, furniture, and clothing arrived; and committees of citizens, notwithstanding that they were burned out themselves, and had suffered severely, forgot everything in the desire to do good, and instantly proceeded to take charge of this relief, and administer it to the needy. The spacious skating rink was at their disposal, and this splendid building soon became the house of refuge for over three hundred homeless persons. These men, women, and children lived, slept, and ate here day after day, for a week and more after the fire. The rink was also converted into a provision storehouse, and from its centre the poor, daily, received the necessaries of life. The ladies' dressing-room was thrown into a clothes department, and from this place the wants of applicants were attended to. Of course the system employed at first was very loose, and while many deserving persons received aid, others, again, who had no claims on the fund, fared equally as well. The committee took the ground that it was better a few impositions should occur than that one deserving person should "go empty away," and accordingly none were refused alms and other assistance. The greatest credit is due to these gentlemen for their kindly and disinterested labours. While in office they did much good, and the generous donors of the material which was so freely sent, can rest assured that their bounty was not misapplied. Everything passed through the hands of His Worship, Mayor Earle, the chief civic officer, and was by him placed immediately after its receipt, in the possession of the proper ones who were delegated to receive it. But this committee could not be expected to distribute the relief, after the first week or two. The sums of money, and the immense quantity of supplies, which continued, and still continue, to come, and the large increase of applicants who only now began to realize their loss, caused the work to grow more and more arduous and cumbersome. Some regularly organized system of administering aid must be devised, and a proper board of workmen selected, who would be paid fairly for their services. This was what was done in Chicago, during the days of her calamity, and our people wisely considered that a leaf out of her book would answer the purpose. A meeting was called, and though some dissatisfaction existed at the precise manner in which the thing was done, yet, after all, the error in such times as these should not be accounted as anything very serious. The movers meant well, and every one could not have a place on the board of directors.
The Burland Desbarats Lith. Co. Montreal
SKATING RINK.
Mr. C. G. Trusdell, the General Superintendent of the Chicago Relief and Aid Society, was sent down to St. John to give what counsel he could, and relate his experience to the people, and point out to them the beauties of the organization which obtained in Chicago during her troubles. He counselled the instant formation of a similar society here. He knew its workings intimately. It was thorough; it was business-like. No one, after the system was in full working order, could impose on the managers, and order would come out of chaos, and confusion no longer exist. His words had weight, for he had passed through the fire himself; and steps were at once inaugurated for the establishment of "The St. John Relief and Aid Society," with full control of the funds and supplies. The men who were selected for the task are those in whom the citizens have every confidence. The Directors are:—
- S. Z. Earle, Mayor, President.
- W. H. Tuck, Recorder, Vice-President.
- Chas. H. Fairweather, Treasurer.
- James A. Harding.
- Hon. Geo. E. King.
- Harris Allan.
- Fred A. King.
- Andre Cushing.
- James Reynolds.
- H. J. Leonard.
- James I. Fellows.
- Wm. Magee.
- Chas. N. Skinner.
- Ezekiel McLeod.
- Gen. D. B. Warner.
- A. Chipman Smith.
- John H. Parks.
- E. Fisher.
Aldermen Maher, Peters, Ferguson, Kerr, Adams, Duffell, Brittain, Glasgow, and Wilson, with L. R. Harrison, Secretary.
These gentlemen then organized the St. John Relief and Aid Society, and assumed charge at once. The moneys were deposited in the bank, to the credit of Chas. H. Fairweather, the Treasurer; and General D. B. Warner, U.S. Consul, entered upon his duties as General Superintendent, and opened his office at the rink.
The sufferers by the fire, who had lived in the rink up to this time, were housed in tents on the barrack green. The rink was thrown into compartments. Fully two-thirds were placed at the service of the store-keeper, who dealt out the provisions, the manager of the furniture department, and the overseer of the space allotted to clothing. The space directly in front of the door-way is occupied by the different officers who perform the preliminary work. The gentlemen's dressing-room is devoted to the use of the visitors, and the other dressing-room is where the General Superintendent is to be found. No more admirable system of giving out help to those whose wants require it, could be formed. It is perfection itself, and though mistakes may occur occasionally, on the whole it moves like a piece of well-appointed machinery. The reader must understand that thousands of applications are made daily, and all sorts of tricks are resorted to by those whose necessities require no help, and every dollar given away to the undeserving, is so much carried from the mouths of the honest and honourable, for whom this magnificent donation was made. The greatest care must be exercised, and it is the business of quite a staff of officers to see that these impositions are checked, and no one is served twice on the same order. No one has been refused aid, if he was legitimately entitled to it.
The actual working of the system is an interesting study. Everything is done regularly and methodically. There is a substantial reason for every movement, and it is surprising how quickly the officers can detect an informality, or notice any attempt at deception. A brief account of the system as it works will be interesting to many. Upon entering through the main entrance, the visitor will notice, in stepping down to the floor of the rink, a number of benches. On these the applicants sit, each awaiting his or her turn, as the case may be. Before them are the interviewers, six or seven in number, seated at convenient desks. The applicant steps up and answers the questions propounded on a sheet of paper. This document is signed, and one of Mr. G. B. Hegan's (the chief of the clerks' staff) clerks numbers it. It then goes before Mr. Peter Campbell, the superintendent of visitors. He allots it to the visitor of the district to which the applicant belongs, for his name and address are on this paper. The next day this house is visited, and the wants of the residents being made known are entered on the paper, if in the opinion of the visitor, after thorough examination, they come under the proper head for relief. The applicant is told to call at the rink, where he receives orders for furniture, clothing or provisions, or all three if he needs them. After that has been gone through, it is only the question of a few minutes when he gets what he wants. He presents each ticket to the department of the various supplies, and after receiving his quota he passes out. The process is very simple, though it appears at first sight a little involved. It is the only way, however, by which a complete check may be put on what goes out or by which every dollar's worth of supplies can be strictly accounted for. Cases calling for immediate aid often come before the managers. The applicant's needs are urgent, and he cannot wait two days. He must have something now and at once. Even here the wheels of the system are not clogged. In half an hour or less he goes off with a day or two's full supply. An interim ticket is furnished for just such cases as his, and he gets enough on that "Immediate Relief" card, in advance of visitation to keep him from actual suffering, until his regular supply can come to him in due course. The plan adopted to prevent fraud works excellently, and without the remotest possibility of a mistake. This is the famous vowel index system and there is no better way than it. This is in charge of the book-keepers under W. H. Stanley, the Chief Book-keeper, whose fine ability has full scope in the management of this department. A complete registration is made of the name and number and residence of every applicant. The vouchers bearing these statements are fyled away in packages of a hundred, and it is only the work of a few seconds to find out all about the applicant as soon as he presents himself. In this department only the "issued" documents are kept. Before they pass into the book-keeper's hands they are retained by another set of clerks who hold them until the supplies are issued; when this is done the words "issued to ——" are written down on the face of the voucher in red ink and at once recorded at the book-keeper's desk and fyled as before mentioned. Mr. Hegan, whose desk faces the door, performs his functions with excellent executive skill, and the other gentlemen in charge of the different departments have the system at their fingers' end and already show much familiarity with the work. It is the duty of the visitors who call on the people named in the circulars handed them, to make every legitimate enquiry and strive to learn the fullest particulars of the applicants, as much depends on their report to headquarters. This duty is entrusted to persons of discernment and reliability, and few complaints have reached the General Superintendent of negligence and incompetency. As soon as they occur, however, the offenders are promptly dismissed. The Provision Department is in charge of Mr. Geo. Swett, formerly Manager of the Victoria Hotel. He has an efficient staff of clerks, and his store-room reminds one of a well regulated wholesale grocery store. The meat is cut up into convenient pieces by butchers, and the whole management here is reduced to a system; Mr. Swett is always courteous and looks carefully after those under him. Mr. Kerrison is chief of the Clothing Department, and Mr. P. Gleason, is the principal officer of the Furniture Room. Miss Rowley is Superintendent of the Ladies' Clothing Department. The heads of the different departments are held responsible for the doings of their subordinates, and the utmost vigilance is accordingly exercised.
The large car-shed immediately adjoining the rink, has been converted into a store-room and receiving office. Here, Messrs. Wm. Magee and James Reynolds receive the supplies as they come to the very doors of the shed by rail, and are brought from the steamers by carts. As most of the relief comes by train there is no cartage or expense attached, and this besides being very convenient is wholly inexpensive. Not an article can leave here to go to the various departments in the rink, unless an order comes for it from some chief of a department. The supplies are usually ordered in large quantities in the morning and in sufficient amounts to last one day. The warehouse is kept well, and the goods therein are carefully looked after and subject to constant examination. Everything here, as well as in the other rooms, is done by check, and nothing can go astray.
The Directors are husbanding their resources and looking further ahead than the present hour. Care is taken to render judiciously the relief which has come from the generous friends abroad. It is likely that the St. John Relief and Aid Society will continue several years in active operation. They will have much to do, and the trials which will come with the winter will be very trying.