THE WORK OF THE LONDON SALVAGE CORPS. THE GREAT CRIPPLEGATE FIRE.
"Where is the fire?"
"City, sir; warehouses well alight."
"Off, and away!"
The horses are harnessed to the scarlet car as quickly as though it were
a fire-engine; the crew of ten men seize their helmets and axes from the
wall beside the car, and mount to their places with their officers; the
coachman shakes the reins; and away dashes the salvage-corps trap to the
scene of action.
The wheels are broad and strong; they do not skid or stick at trifles;
the massy steel chains of the harness shine and glitter with burnishing,
and might do credit to the Horse Artillery; the stout leather helmets
and sturdy little hand-axes of the men look as fit for service as hand
and mind can make them. Everything was in its right place; everything
was ready for action; and at the word of command the men were on the
spot, and fully equipped in a twinkling.
The call came from the fire-brigade. The brigade pass on all their calls
to the salvage corps, and the chiefs of the corps have to use their
discretion as to the force they shall send. The public do not as a rule
summon the salvage corps. The public summon the fire-brigade, and away
rush men and appliances to extinguish the flames and to save life. The
primary duty of the salvage corps is to save goods. There is telephonic
connection between the brigade and the corps, and the two bodies work
together with the utmost cordiality.
We will suppose the present call has come from a big City fire. The
chief has to decide at once upon his mode of action. No two fires are
exactly alike, and saving goods from the flames is something like
warfare with savages--you never know what is likely to happen; so he has
to take in the circumstances of the case at a glance, and shape his
course accordingly. Should the occasion require a stronger force, he
sends back a message by the coachman of the car; and in his evidence
concerning the great Cripplegate fire, Major Charles J. Fox, the chief
officer of the salvage corps, stated that he had seventy men at work at
that memorable conflagration.
But see, here is the fire! Streams of water are being poured on to the
flames, and the policemen have hard work to keep back the excited crowd.
They give way for the scarlet car, and the salvage men have arrived at
the scene of action. Entrance may have to be forced to parts of the
burning building, and doors and windows broken open for this purpose.
Crash! crash! The axes are at work. And a minute more the men step
within amid the smoke. The firemen may be at work on another floor, and
the water to quench the fire may be pouring downstairs in a stream. The
noises are often extraordinary. There is not only the rush and roar of
the flames, the splashing and gurgling of the water, but the falling of
goods, furniture, and may be even parts of the structure itself.
Walls, girders, ceilings may fall, ruins clatter about your ears, clouds
of smoke suffocate you, tongues of flame scorch your face; but if you
are a salvage man, in and out of the building you go, while with your
brave brethren of the corps you spread out the strong rubber tarpaulins
you have brought with you in your trap, and cover up such goods as you
find, to preserve them from damage. Under these stout coverlets, heaps
of commodities may lie quite safe from injury from water and smoke.
Overhead you still hear terrible noises. Safes and tanks tumble and
clatter with dreadful din; part of the structure itself, or some heavy
piece of furniture, falls to the ground; dense volumes of water poured
into the windows rain through on to your devoted head. But you stick to
your post, preserving such goods as you can in the manner that the chief
may direct. May be you have to assist in conveying goods out of reach of
the hungry fire, and your training has taught you how to handle
efficiently certain classes of goods. Sometimes quantities of water
collect in the basement, doing much damage; and down there, splash,
splash, you go, to open drains, or find some means of setting the water
free.
On occasion, the men of the salvage corps find themselves in desperate
straits. At the Cripplegate fire, one of the corps discovered the
staircase in flames, and his retreat quite cut off. With praiseworthy
promptitude, he knotted some ladies' mantles together into a rope, and
by this means escaped from a second-story window to the road below.
On another occasion, Major Fox himself, the chief of the corps, was
rather badly hurt on the hip, when making his way about a burning
building at a fire in the Borough. The probability of accident is only
too great, and it was no child's play in training or in practice which
enabled the corps to attain such proficiency as to carry off a handsome
silver challenge cup at an International Fire Tournament at the
Agricultural Hall in the summer of 1895.
The duties of the salvage corps do not end even when the fire is
extinguished. They remain in possession of the premises until the
fire-insurance claims are satisfactorily arranged. They do not, however,
know which office is paying the particular claims, and all offices unite
in supporting the corps. It is, in fact, their own institution, though
established under Act of Parliament; and it is not, therefore, like the
London Fire-Brigade, a municipal service.
When the brigade was handed over to the Metropolitan Board of Works by
the Act of 1865, provision was made for the establishment of a salvage
corps, to be supported by the Fire-Insurance Companies, and to
co-operate with the brigade. The corps has now five stations, the
headquarters--where the chief officer, Major Fox, resides--being at
Watling Street in the City. The eastern station is at Commercial Road,
Whitechapel; the southern, at Southwark; the northern, at Islington; and
the western, at Shaftesbury Avenue.
The force consists of about a hundred men. Their uniform somewhat
resembles that of the fire-brigade, being of serviceable dark blue
cloth, but with helmets of black leather instead of brass. They are
nearly all ex-navy men, excepting the coachmen, some of whom have seen
service in the army; indeed, candidates now come from the royal navy
direct, but receive a special training for their duties, such as in the
handling of certain classes of goods. Their ranks are divided into
first, second, and third-class men, with coachmen, and foremen, five
superintendents, and one chief officer.
Their work lies largely outside the public eye. They labour, so to
speak, under the fire; and it is difficult to estimate the immense
quantity of goods they save from damage during the course of the year.
Thousands of pounds' worth were saved at the great Cripplegate fire
alone in November, 1897. That huge conflagration, which was one of the
largest in London since the Great Fire of 1666, may well serve to
illustrate the work of the corps.
The alarm was raised shortly before one o'clock mid-day on November
19th, and an engine from Whitecross Street was speedily on the spot. As
usual, the salvage corps received their call from the brigade; and in
his evidence at the subsequent enquiry at the Guildhall, Major Fox
stated he received the call at headquarters from the Watling Street
fire-station, a warehouse being alight in Hamsell Street.
He turned out the trap, and with the superintendent and ten men hurried
to the fire. He also ordered other traps to be sent on from the other
four stations of the corps, and left the station at two minutes past
one.
The Watling Street fire-engine had preceded him; and when he turned the
corner of Jewin Street out of Aldersgate Street, he saw "a bright cone
of fire with a sort of tufted top." It was very bright, and he was
struck by the absence of smoke. He thought the roof of one of the
warehouses had gone, and the flames had got through.
Perceiving the fire was likely to be a big affair, he at once started a
coachman back to Watling Street with the expressive instructions to
"send everything."
The coachman returned at thirteen minutes past one, so the chief and his
party must have arrived at the fire about five minutes past one; that
is, they reached the scene of action in three minutes. The major and
superintendent walked down Hamsell Street, and found upper floors "well
alight," and the fire burning downward as well. It was, in fact, very
fierce; so fierce, indeed, that he remarked to his companion what a late
call they had received. The firemen were getting to work, and he himself
proceeded with his salvage operations.
Believing that some of the buildings were irrevocably doomed, he did not
send his men into these, for the sufficient reason that he could not see
how he could get the men out again; but they got to work in other
buildings in Hamsell Street and Well Street, though the fire was
spreading very rapidly. Many windows were open, which was a material
source of danger, causing, of course, a draught for the fire. They shut
some of the windows, and removed piles of goods from the glass, so that
the buildings might resist the flames as long as possible. Eventually,
the staff of men, now increased to seventy in number, cleared out a
large quantity of goods, and stacked them on a piece of vacant ground
near Australian Avenue.
In spite of the heat and smoke and flame, in spite of falling tanks and
safes and walls, the men worked splendidly, and were able to save an
immense quantity of property.
Meantime, the firemen had been working hard. On arrival, they found the
fire spreading with remarkable rapidity, and the telephone summoned more
and more assistance. Commander Wells was at St. Bartholomew's Hospital
examining the fire appliances when he was informed of the outbreak. He
left at once, and reached Jewin Street about a quarter past one.
Superintendent Dowell was with him; and on entering the street, they
could see from the smoke that the fire was large, and that both Hamsell
Street and Well Street were impassable, as flames even then were
leaping across both the streets.
Steamers, escapes, and manuals hurried up from all quarters, until about
fifty steamers were playing on the flames. Early in the afternoon, the
girls employed in a mantle warehouse hastened to the roof in great
excitement, and escaped by an adjoining building.
A staff of men soon arrived from the Gas Company's offices; but the
falls of ruins were already so numerous and so dangerous, that they were
not able to work effectually.
In fact, the whole of Hamsell Street was before long in flames; and in
spite of all efforts, the fire spread to Redcross Street, Jewin
Crescent, Jewin Street, and Well Street. The brigade had arrived with
their usual promptitude; but before their appliances could bring any
considerable power to bear, the conflagration was extending fast and
fiercely.
The thoroughfares were narrow, the buildings high, and the contents of a
very inflammable nature, such as stationery, fancy goods, celluloid
articles (celluloid being one of the most inflammable substances known),
feathers, silks, etc., while a strong breeze wafted burning fragments
hither and thither. Windows soon cracked and broke, the fire itself thus
creating or increasing the draught; the iron girders yielded to the
intense heat, the interiors collapsed, and the flames raged
triumphantly.
In Jewin Crescent, the firemen worked nearly knee-deep in water, and
again and again ruined portions of masonry crashed into the roadway.
Through the afternoon, engines continued to hurry up, until at five
o'clock the maximum number of about fifty was reached. The end of Jewin
Street resembled an immense furnace, while the bare walls of the
premises already burnt out stood gaunt and empty behind, and portions of
their masonry continued to fall.
[Illustration]
Firemen were posted on surrounding roofs and on fire-escape ladders,
pouring immense quantities of water on the fire, while others were
working hard to prevent the flames from spreading. All around, thousands
of spectators were massed, pressing as near as they could. They
responded readily, however, to the efforts of the police, and order was
well maintained.
This was the critical period of the fire. It still seemed spreading; in
fact, it appeared as though there were half a dozen outbreaks at once.
But after six, the efforts of the firemen were successful in preventing
it from spreading farther. As darkness fell, huge flames seemed to spurt
upward from the earth, presenting a strikingly weird appearance; they
were caused by the burning gas which the workmen had not been able to
cut off. Crash succeeded crash every few minutes, as tons of masonry
fell; while in Well Street, at one period a huge warehouse, towering
high, seemed wrapped in immense flame from basement to roof.
An accident occurred by Bradford Avenue. Some firemen, throwing water on
the raging fire, were suddenly surprised by a terrible outburst from
beneath them, and it was seen that the floors below were in flames. To
the excited spectators it seemed for a moment as though the men must
perish; but a fire-escape was pitched for them, and amid tremendous
cheering the scorched and half-suffocated men slid down it in safety.
Cripplegate Church, too, suffered a narrow escape, even as it did in
the Great Fire of 1666. On both occasions, sparks set fire to the roof,
the oak rafters on this occasion being ignited. But the special efforts
made by the firemen to save it were happily crowned by success, though
it sustained some damage. Also Mr. Nein, one of the churchwardens,
assisted by Mr. Morvell and Mr. Capper, posted on the roof, worked hard
with buckets to quench the flames.
It was late at night before the official "stop" message was circulated,
and eight o'clock next morning before the last engine left. It was found
that the area affected by the fire covered four and a half acres, two
and a half being burnt out; and no fewer than a hundred and six premises
were involved. Fifty-six buildings were absolutely destroyed, and fifty
others burnt out or damaged. Seventeen streets were affected; but
happily no lives were lost, though several firemen were burnt somewhat
severely. The total loss was estimated at two millions sterling, the
insurance loss being put at about half that amount. The verdict, on the
termination of the enquiry at the Guildhall on January 12th, 1898,
attributed the conflagration to the wilful ignition of goods by some one
unknown.
The quantity of water used at this fire was enormous. Mr. Ernest
Collins, engineer to the New River Water Company, in whose district the
conflagration took place, said that, up to the time when the "stop"
message was received, the total reached to about five million gallons.
No wonder that the firemen were working knee-deep in Jewin Street. The
five million gallons would, he testified, give a depth of about five
feet over the whole area. But, further, a large quantity was used for a
week or so afterwards, until the conflagration was completely subdued.
In addition to the engines, it must be remembered that there were fifty
hydrants in the neighbourhood.
These hydrants can, of course, be brought into use without the turncock;
but, as a matter of fact, that official arrived at two minutes past one,
the same time as the first engine; while the fire was dated in the
company's return as only breaking out at four minutes to one, and the
brigade report their call at two minutes to one.
The water used came from the company's reservoir in Claremont Square,
Islington. But this receptacle only holds three and a half million
gallons when full. It is, however, connected with another reservoir at
Highgate having a capacity of fifteen million gallons, and with yet
another at Crouch Hill having when full twelve million gallons. As a
matter of fact, these two reservoirs held twenty-five million gallons
between them on the day of the fire, and both were brought into
requisition, as well as the Islington reservoir. The drain was, however,
enormous.
In the course of the first hour, the water in the Islington reservoir
actually fell four feet. It never fell lower, however; for instructions
were telegraphed to the authorities at other reservoirs to send on more
water, and the supply was satisfactorily maintained,--a striking
contrast, indeed, to the Great Fire of 1666, when the New River
water-pipes were dry!
It was about nine o'clock when the chief officer of the salvage corps
felt able to leave. During the eight hours he had been on duty, his men
had saved goods to the value of many thousands of pounds. He had known
to some extent the class of goods he would meet with, for the inspectors
of the corps make reports from time to time as to the commodities
stored in various City warehouses, and he is therefore to some extent
prepared. On the following day, the 20th, the corps were occupied in
pulling down the tottering walls of the burned-out warehouses which were
in a dangerous condition.
This great Cripplegate fire aroused a good deal of attention in the
American papers, and certain discussion also arose in England as to
water-towers and chemical fire-engines. America is very proud of its
well-furnished firemen, and not without cause. Several cities in the
States are, indeed, famous for their well-organized and well-equipped
fire departments. Let us, then, cross the Atlantic, and see something of
the men and their methods in active operation.
We shall find much to interest and to inform us.