The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1877-06-28


Origin and Progress of the Irresistible
Flame.
[st. John IN. b. Cor. Chicago Times.l
Four hundred acres of st. John are to-
day forest of chimneys, and the re-
naming half of the city stands paralyzed
by the awful blow that has fallen on the
trade, wealth, and prosperity of the
maritime provinces. With Fire De-
partment well organized and we'll
equipped with what was at all previous
times considered an ample water supply,
and with the experience acquired by the
extensive confagration in your city, Bos-
ton, Portland, and other cities of the
Union-despite all this, in less than
twelve hours torrent of flames, laugh
ing at the plgmy efforts of mortal man,
wiped out OF existence the accumulated
wealth OF years, gathered from the sea
and the vast timber forests of the inte-
rior. Commencing in little log shed
at the foot of the slip, well down to the
bottom of the harbor, a fire that, had
water been at hand, could have been ex-
tinguished in less than fifteen minutes,
sprung up that rapidly gGded up the
wharf, and into nest of low wooden
houses along the street running at right
angles to the slip. Famed by roaring
wind, the fire crept up the crests of
the many hills lying along the Portland
road, and once at. the summit, where
the wind had full rake, it spread in q
northwesterly direction, through Mill
and Dock streets, pouring down the
long slope of the latter street in
torrent of fame that drove the
steamers before it like chaff before
an October blast. Massive stores of brick
and stone lined this street on either
hand, but they melted away before the
intensity of the heat, and the same scene
here as in Boston was re-enacted, where
the stout wooden blocks held up their
walls the longest. From Dock street to
the waters edge the wharv6s were stud
ded with welI-flled warehouses, whose
infammable contents seemed to increase
the fury of the fire, that sprung from
point to point with ightning-ike ra-
pidity. Sparks and huge cinders fell III
showers over the devoted section, and,
igniting as they tell, started minor fires
that served to swell the huge monster
from which they sprang. On, on, down
Dock street, came the flames, till Market
square was reached and here, for the
first time, the sense of the city's danger
seemed to fash on the startled people. If
the fire crossed the square, all admitted
it would sweep Water and Prince William
streets, but no one supposed for mo-
ment that any other section was in danger
but this, which lay directly in the course
Of the wind. Once down to the end OF
be carried INTO the har3or, and nothing
would be left to burn. Here, said all,
the fire would end for it could not pos
sibly climb the steep hill to the left. A
valley Of ashes was the worst expected,
and not city in ruins. But out from
their security were they startled, as from
Canterbury, three blocks away and halt
way up the hillside, came the startling
cry Of fire. A spark had caught in a
wooden building. The engines were all
engaged fighting flames in the valley
below, and what could it do but burn,
burn?
Up the hillside ran the flames. House
after house fell in rapid order, across
the Market slip to the southern side
Thus the two fires sped on, on a parallel
course, leaving the narrow slip of a
block between intact. At this time
some say little before-fames were
seen rising from the barracks, an old
wooden structure well down to the waters
edge, aboutmidway the width of the city.
This was the greatest blow of all, for
around the barracks in all directions but
toward the shore lay blocks Of wooden
houses, inhabited by business men and la.
borers. To extingUish this new confagra-
ton, half a mile away from the fire on
Water street was not to be thought Of,
and, as the wind rose to bowling gale,
block after block went down, as if felled
bya hurricane. Household goods, moved
streets away for safety, a few minutes
after being deposited in fancied security
were swallowed up. The panic stricken
people, grabbing what little they could
carry in their hands, fed to the higher
ground, to the heart Of the city. Two
distinct confagrations were destroying
st. John, one quitting her business cen
ter, the other laying low the homes Of
her artisans. Yet another fire, and the
gap between the two was bridged. A
spark lodged in the high spire of
Trinity Church, tongue Of fame crept
down to the belfry, and the fire soon
wrapped the historic edifce in it's deadly
embrace. From here to the Victoria
Hotel, the pride Of the city, was but a
work Of few minutes. Twenty minutes
more, and the ruin was contaminated.
Spreading northeast, south and west,
the fire swept on, till the sun went down
on 200 acres Of the city in ruins. With
the going down Of the sun the wind
seemed to freshen, and the fire to
quicken its terrible pace. Street after
streetw was crossed, block after block swept
away, till nothing was left from King
street the broadcast and best in the city
to the waters edge, save five isolated
houses. The width Of King street east
saved the half of the city now standing.
Here the firemen had an opportunity to