fire!!!
“hallo, that’ll do, man!” cried the same stalwart fireman who had seized the small boy, stepping out and laying his hand on hopkins’s shoulder, whereabouts is it?
hopkins heard him not. one idea had burnt itself into the poor man’s brain, and that was the duty that lay on him to ring the alarm-bell! seeing this, the fireman seized him, and dragged him forcibly—almost lifted him—into the station, round the door of which an eager crowd had already begun to collect.
“calm yourself,” said the stalwart fireman quietly, as he thrust hopkins down into a chair. “consider now. you’ll make us too late if you don’t speak. where is it?”
“b–b–fire!” yelled hopkins, gasping, and glaring round him on the men, who were quietly putting on their helmets.
hopkins suddenly burst from the grasp of his captor, and, rushing out, seized the bell-handle, which he began to pull more furiously than ever.
“get her out, jim,” said the fireman in a low tone to one of his comrades (“her” being the engine); at the same time he went to the door, and again seizing hopkins, brought him back and forced him into a chair, while he said firmly:
“now, then, out with it, man; where’s the fire?”
“yes, yes,” screamed hopkins, “fire! fire that’s it! b–! b–beverly!—blazes!—square!—number—fire!”
“that’ll do,” said the fireman, at once releasing the temporary maniac, and going to a book where he calmly made an entry of the name of the square, the hour of the night, and the nature of the call. two lines sufficed. then he rose, put on his helmet, and thrust a small hatchet into his belt, just as the engine was dragged to the door of the station.
there was something absolutely magnificent in this scene which no pen can describe, because more than half its force was conveyed only by the eye and the ear. the strong contrast between human excitement and madness coupled with imbecility, and human calmness and self-possession coupled with vigorous promptitude, was perfect.
just before poor hopkins rang his first note of alarm the station had been wrapt in profound silence—the small boy’s interruption having been but a momentary affair. george dale, the fireman in charge, was seated at a desk in the watch-room (known among firemen as the “lobby”), making an entry in a diary. all the other men—about thirteen in number—had gone to their respective homes and beds in the immediate neighbourhood, with the exception of the two whose turn it was to remain on duty all night. these two (named baxmore and corney), with their coats, belts, boots, and caps on, had just lain down on two low tressel couches, and were courting sleep. the helmets of their comrades hung on the walls round the room, with belts and hatchets underneath them. several pairs of boots also graced the walls, and a small clock, whose gentle tick was the only sound that broke the silence of the night. in an outer room the dim form of a spare engine could be seen through the doorway.
the instant that the bell rang, however, this state of quietude was put to flight. the two men rose from their couches, and dale stepped to the door. there was no starting up, no haste in their movements, yet there was prompt rapidity. the men, having been sailors, had been trained in the midst of alarms. the questions which were put to hopkins, as above described, were rapidly uttered. before they were answered the two men were ready, and at dale’s order, “get her out!” they both vanished.
one ran round the corner to the engine-house and “knocked up” the driver in passing. the other ran from door to door of the firemen’s abodes, which were close at hand, and with a loud double-ring summoned the sleepers. before he got back to help the first with the engine, one and another and another door opened, and a man darted out, buttoning braces or coat as he ran. each went into the station, seized his helmet, belt, and axe, from his own peg, and in another moment all were armed cap-à-pie. at the same instant that the engine appeared at the door a pair of horses were trotted up. two men held them; two others fastened the traces; the driver sprang to his seat; the others leaped to their respective places. each knew what to do, and did it at once. there was no hurry, no loss of time, no excitement; some of the men, even while acting with the utmost vigour and promptitude, were yawning away their drowsiness; and in less than ten minutes from the moment the bell first rang the whip cracked and the fire-engine dashed away from the station amid the cheers of the crowd.
it may be as well to remark here in passing, that the london fire brigade had, at the time of which we write, reached a high state of efficiency, although it could not stand comparison with the perfection of system and unity of plan which mark the organisation and conduct of the brigade of the present day.
mr braidwood, the able superintendent, had for many years been training his men on a system, the original of which he had begun and proved in edinburgh. modifying his system to suit the peculiarities of the larger field to which he had been translated, he had brought the “fire engine establishment,” (which belonged at that time to several insurance companies) to a state of efficiency which rendered it a model and a training-school for the rest of the world; and although he had not the advantage of the telegraph or the powerful aid of the land steam fire-engine of the present day, he had men of the same metal as those which compose the force now.
the “metropolitan fire brigade,” as it then existed under the control of the metropolitan board of works, had been carried by its chief, captain eyre massey shaw, to a condition of efficiency little if at all short of perfection, its only fault being (if we may humbly venture a remark) that it was too small both in numbers of engines and men.
now, good reader, if you have never seen a london fire-engine go to a fire, you have no conception of what it is; and even if you have seen it, but have not gone with it, still you have no idea of what it is.
to those accustomed to it, no doubt, it may be tame enough—we cannot tell; but to those who mount an engine for the first time and drive through the crowded thoroughfares of london at a wild tearing gallop, it is probably the most exciting drive conceivable. it beats steeple-chasing. it feels like driving to destruction—so wild and so reckless is it. and yet it is not reckless in the strict sense of that word; for there is a stern need-be in the case. every moment (not to mention minutes or hours) is of the utmost importance in the progress of a fire. fire smoulders and creeps at first, it may be, but when it has got the mastery, and bursts into flames, it flashes to its work and completes it quickly. at such times, one moment of time lost may involve thousands of pounds—ay, and many human lives! this is well known to those whose profession it is to fight the flames. hence the union of apparent mad desperation, with cool, quiet self-possession in their proceedings. when firemen can work in silence they do so. no unnecessary word is uttered, no voice is needlessly raised. like the movements of some beautiful steam-engine, which, with oiled pistons, cranks, and levers, does its unobtrusive work in its own little chamber in comparative stillness, yet with a power that would tear and rend to pieces buildings and machinery, so the firemen sometimes bend to their work quietly, though with mind and muscles strung to the utmost point of tension. at other times, like the roaring locomotive crashing through a tunnel or past a station, their course is a tumultuous rush, amid a storm of shouting and gesticulation.
so was it on the present occasion. had the fire been distant, they would have had to commence their gallop somewhat leisurely, for fear of breaking down the horses; but it was not far off—not much more than a couple of miles—so they dashed round the corner of their own street at a brisk trot, and swept into oxford street. here they broke into a gallop, and here the noise of their progress began, for the great thoroughfare was crowded with vehicles and pedestrians, many of whom were retiring from the theatres and music-halls, and other places of entertainment.
to pass through such a crowd without coming into collision with anything required not only the most dexterous driving, but rendered it necessary that some of the men on the engine should stand up and shout, or rather roar incessantly, as they whirled along, clearing everything out of their way, and narrowly escaping innumerable crashes by a mere hairbreadth.
the men, as we said before, having been sailors, seemed to shout with the memory of the boatswain strong upon them, for their tones were pitched in the deepest and gruffest bass-key. sometimes there was a lull for a moment, as a comparatively clear space of a hundred yards or so lay before them; then their voices rose like the roaring of the gale as a stupid or deaf cabman got in their way, or a plethoric ’bus threatened to interrupt their furious passage.
the cross streets were the points where the chief difficulties met them. there the cab and van drivers turned into or crossed the great thoroughfare, all ignorant of the thunderbolt that was rushing on like a fiery meteor, with its lamps casting a glare of light before, and the helmets of its stern charioteers flashing back the rays of street-lamps and windows; for, late though the hour was, all the gin-palaces, and tobacconists’ shops, and many of the restaurants were still open and brightly illuminated.
at the corner of wells street, the crowd of cabs and other vehicles was so great that the driver of the engine began to tighten his reins, and jim baxmore and joe corney raised their voices to a fierce shout. cabs, ’busses, and pedestrians scattered right and left in a marvellous manner; the driver slackened his reins, cracked his whip, and the horses stretched out again.
in passing berners street, a hansom cab swept round the corner, its dashing driver smoking a cigar in sublime self-satisfaction, and looking carelessly right and left for a “fare.” this exquisite almost ran into the engine! there was a terrific howl from all the firemen; the cabby turned his smart horse with a bound to one side, and lost his cigar in the act—in reference to which misfortune he was heartily congratulated by a small member of the shoe-black brigade,—while the engine went steadily and sternly on its way.
“there, it shows a light,” observed one of the firemen to dale, as he pointed to a luminous appearance in the sky away to the north-east.
dale was already looking in that direction, and made no reply.
as they reached tottenham court road the driver again checked the pace a little; yet even at the reduced speed they passed everything like a whirlwind. the traffic here was so great that it behoved them to be more cautious. of course, the more need that there was for caution, the more necessity was there for shouting; and the duty of baxmore and corney—standing as they did in front of their comrades beside the driver—became severe, but they had good lungs both of them!
at the point where tottenham court road cuts oxford street, the accumulation of vehicles of all sorts, from a hand-barrow to a furniture-van, is usually very great. to one unaccustomed to the powers of london drivers, it would have seemed nothing short of madness to drive full tilt into the mass that blocked the streets at this point. but the firemen did it. they reined up a little, it is true, just as a hunter does in gathering his horse together for a rush at a stone wall, but there was nothing like an approach to stopping.
“hi! hi!! hi!!!” roared the firemen, baxmore and corney high above the rest. a ’bus lumbered to the left just in time; a hansom sprang to the right, not a moment too soon; a luggage-van bolted into crown street; the pedestrians scattered right and left, and the way was clear—no, not quite clear! the engine had to turn at a right angle here into tottenham court road. round it went on the two off-wheels, and came full swing on a market-gardener and a hot-coffee woman, who were wheeling their respective barrows leisurely side by side, and chatting as they went.
the roar that burst from the firemen was terrific. the driver attempted both to pull up and to turn aside. the market-gardener dropt his barrow and fled. the hot-coffee woman, being of a resolute nature, thrust her barrow by main force on the footpath, and so saved her goods and herself by a hairbreadth, while the barrow of her friend was knocked in pieces. but the effort of the engine-driver to avoid this had well-nigh resulted in serious consequences. in endeavouring to clear the market-gardener he drew so near to the footpath that in another moment a lamp-post would have been carried away, and the wheels of the engine, in all probability, knocked off, had not joe corney observed the danger.
with a truly irish yell joe seized the rein next him, and pulled the horses round almost at a right angle. the nave of the hind-wheel just shaved the post as it flew by. the whole thing passed so swiftly that before the market-gardener recovered from his consternation the engine was only discernible in the distance by the sparks that flew from its wheels as it held on in its furious way.
all along its course a momentary disturbance of london equanimity was created. families not yet abed rushed to their front windows, and, looking out, exclaimed, “ha! the firemen.” tipplers in gin-palaces ran to the doors and said, “there they go,” “that’s your sort,” “hurrah, my hearties!” or, “go it, ye cripples!” according to the different stages of inebriation at which they had arrived; and belated men of business stopped to gaze, and then resumed their way with thoughts and speculations on fire and fire insurance, more or less deep and serious according to temperament. but the disturbance was only temporary. the families retired to their suppers or beds, the tipplers returned to their tipple, the belated speculators to their dreams, and in a few minutes (no doubt) forgot what they had seen, and forgot; perchance, that they had any personal interest in fire raising, or fire extinction, or fire prevention, or fire in any dangerous shape or form whatever, or indulged in the comforting belief, mayhap, that whatever disasters might attend the rest of the london community, they and their houses being endued with the properties of the salamander, nothing in the shape of fire might, could, would, or should kindle upon them. so true is it that, “all men think all men mortal but themselves!”
do you doubt this, reader? if so, go poll your acquaintance, and tell us how many of them have got rope-ladders, or even ropes, to escape from their houses should they take fire; how many of them have got hand-pumps, or even buckets, placed so as to be handy in case of fire; and how many of them have got their houses and furniture insured against fire.
meanwhile, the fire-engine held on its way, until it turned into beverly square, and pulled short up in front of the blazing mansion of james auberly, esquire.
another engine was already at work there. it had come from a nearer station, of the existence of which hopkins had been ignorant when he set out on his wild race for help. the men of this engine were already doing their work quietly, but with perceptible effect, pouring incessant streams of water in at the blazing windows, and watching for the slightest lull in the ferocity of the smoke and flame to attack the enemy at closer quarters.
