Excerpts by CONNIE SHANKS & HARRY J. MCCLENAHAN
The person responsible for the terrible fire in Fredericton in 1850 was an Irish emigrant named Donahoe. Donahoe came to Fredericton in 1847, the year of the Irish famine; he was from Lissadale, Sir Robert Booth Core's estate in County Sligo. Sir Robert had picked Donahoe, along with any number of his fellow tenants, and put them on a ship and sent them off to undestined ports in order to ease the burden on the estate.
A shipload of these half-clad, half-fed Irishmen arrived in Fredericton early one morning in the Fall. They had no money, no place to go and ranged themselves along the High board fence that, then, stood at the lower end of the Officer's Square. Charitable citizens brought them quantities of food, which was consumed on the spot. Peter Slean, a local baker, known as the "Fredericton Cobden" because of his always being the first to put down the price of bread, a man not especially favored by fortune, gave the larger part of several whole bakings to the unfortunate men.
The following winter, the emigrants literally begged their bread from door to door. Spring brought a measure of relief as the installation of the new Gas Works gave employment to many. From then on, for the next half century, the Irish dominated the field of municipal labour, they were the stone-breakers and ditch diggers of the community. Some, more fortunate, perhaps, than their comrades, became, in time, successful merchants, still others entered politics and in later years played a significant part in city affairs. But to get back to Donahoe and the fire...
In the early afternoon of Monday, November 11, 1850, Donahoe was engaged in sawing wood for Miss McLauchlin, a school-mistress, who occupied the house on Carleton street, near the Methodist Church, then known as the Dr. Emerson property.
The story goes that a spark from the Irishman's pipe ignited a box of shavings nearby and the culprit, unable to quench the flame, banged the door to and left the premises without giving an alarm.
The day was bright and fair, with a strong north easterly wind. The flames burst through the roof of Miss McLauchlin's shed and burning brands flew in all directions. The Methodist Church was soon afire and it being so high, the flaming shingles were carried far and wide.
The old hand engine and bucket system of the day were futile in face of the great conflagration. Houses on King street caught fire and Carleton street was ablaze; cinders fell on Regent street, Queen street and Brunswick street; the fire soon extended to St John street; the city was a sea of fire. Consternation and dismay prevailed. Women fainted and had to be carried to places of safety, only to find themselves again in peril. Terror-stricken people dragged articles of furniture, bedding and household goods through the streets. Many hundreds found refuge in the old burial ground and remained there all night. Families who were comfortable and happy in the morning were homeless before night.
Another Account...
It was mild for the time of year, but a piercing northwest wind made the workmen just as happy to be under cover in the shed of the Carleton Street schoolhouse as they bit into thick slices of bread and dipped into their lard-pail lunch buckets for wedges of cheddar.
It was mild for the time of year, but a piercing northwest wind made the workmen just as happy to be under cover in the shed of the Carleton Street schoolhouse as they bit into thick slices of bread and dipped into their lard-pail lunch buckets for wedges of cheddar.
After a time, one of them rose with a sigh and, supposed since the wood probably wouldn't saw itself, they had better get back at it. By 1:30 p.m. they had topped up the pile of sawdust and a man who had been sawing steadily for some time paused to light his pipe. As he turned toward the open shed door, a gust of wind caught a spark from the pipe and carried it into the sawdust. Twelve hours later, most of downtown Fredericton lay in ashes. It was Wednesday, November 11, 1850.
The hapless workmen were powerless to stop the instant inferno that consumed the wood-filled shed like a matchbox, and within minutes the school was also engulfed. The Methodist Church next to the school went up in flames almost simultaneously, and soon the fire had progressed over the length of the block between King and Queen Streets. "... the flames, assisted by the high wind, were leaping from roof to roof, consuming everything before them," The Daily Gleaner recalled in a retrospective published 41 years later.
No Water
"There were no steam fire engines then as now, nor were there even water tanks," the report continues. "Four light hand engines were all the apparatus available for fire purposes. If effective work was to be done at all, the engines must be near the scene of the fire and what was to be done? There was no water near by. The military and all classes of citizens were brought into use.
"There were no steam fire engines then as now, nor were there even water tanks," the report continues. "Four light hand engines were all the apparatus available for fire purposes. If effective work was to be done at all, the engines must be near the scene of the fire and what was to be done? There was no water near by. The military and all classes of citizens were brought into use.
"Two rows of men, each about three feet from the other, were then formed from the scene of the fire to the river, down Carleton Street, and through the military grounds, and with buckets, of which there are some at this day preserved as relics, the water was passed along to the hand engine by one row and the empty buckets returned by the other."
Despite the concerted efforts of the bucket brigade, it was no match for the by now gale-force wind blowing in the direction of the downtown area. The heat on Carleton Street became intense as cinders flew in all directions.
"Before half-past two, an hour after the fire had started, it became apparent to the citizens that they were to be The Victims of a Tremendous Conflagration.
Alarms Sounded
"Alarms were sounded from all directions, and fires were breaking out in every quarter and at 3:30 there was probably not a citizen down town, from the back street to the river, and from Carleton to the flats, who had not given up all hope of saving his house or home," The Gleaner continued. "The ladies in about every house were packing up their furniture, etc., for removal, while men straddled the roofs with pails of water for protection. The Military Garrison joined in the fight
"Alarms were sounded from all directions, and fires were breaking out in every quarter and at 3:30 there was probably not a citizen down town, from the back street to the river, and from Carleton to the flats, who had not given up all hope of saving his house or home," The Gleaner continued. "The ladies in about every house were packing up their furniture, etc., for removal, while men straddled the roofs with pails of water for protection. The Military Garrison joined in the fight
"It was a dreadful afternoon; Queen, King and Brunswick streets were all afire, and flames and smoke poured forth in tremendous volumes in defiance of every effort. It is needless, in fact space would not admit if it were of any interest, to describe the burning of the different buildings, and the scenes incident thereto. The reader can picture it all out in his imagination well enough, and can fancy The Confusion that Must Have Existed in such a trying time." Apparently deciding that every cloud of smoke has a silver lining, some citizens took advantage of the chaos.
"About every store on Queen Street, outside of the burnt district, was preparing to remove its goods on the slightest show of a change of wind, and among those who had come in to assist in the work were people of very light fingers. The same class of people were more than industrious, notwithstanding all the constables could do, for there were no policemen in those days, in handling the property of other people in the burnt district."
Keg Of Gunpowder
The looting almost led to an explosive situation, according to The Gleaner report. "An incident in connection with the stealing by a countryman of a keg of gunpowder has an amusing side to it, if the gravity of the crime could be forgotten.... The countryman spied the keg standing alone, with a piece of canvas thrown over it. Taking this canvas off he saw the keg contained gunpowder, as the wooden top had been removed before. Everybody was busy and he feared nothing. Throwing the canvas cover to one side, he picked up the keg, and amid the sparks and cinders made up street with it at a lively rate. Everyone who saw the performance, though they had not the time to interfere, expected every minute that a spark would drop into the keg and blow the man to pieces, and their prayers were that such a thing would overtake him. But on he went pall mall till he got out of danger."
The looting almost led to an explosive situation, according to The Gleaner report. "An incident in connection with the stealing by a countryman of a keg of gunpowder has an amusing side to it, if the gravity of the crime could be forgotten.... The countryman spied the keg standing alone, with a piece of canvas thrown over it. Taking this canvas off he saw the keg contained gunpowder, as the wooden top had been removed before. Everybody was busy and he feared nothing. Throwing the canvas cover to one side, he picked up the keg, and amid the sparks and cinders made up street with it at a lively rate. Everyone who saw the performance, though they had not the time to interfere, expected every minute that a spark would drop into the keg and blow the man to pieces, and their prayers were that such a thing would overtake him. But on he went pall mall till he got out of danger."
By the time the flames no longer ignited the dismal November night, 18 acres of the city had been almost completely destroyed. In the four blocks bounded by Carleton, Queen, St. John and Brunswick streets, only four buildings of the original 300 were left standing. The leveling of 156 homes left 2,000 people literally out in the cold; they spent the night camped in Officer's Square. Almost every merchant lost his entire winter's stock along with his premises, and the total loss to the city was a staggering 100,000 pounds. "The reader can thus have some idea of the scene of desolation which presented itself to our citizens on daylight of the 12th of November," The Gleaner mused. "People homeless, children crying for the attention of their fathers and mothers, whole families ruined, and many without a place to lay their heads. Aid in the shape of food and clothing was received from St. John and other parts, and it was not until months afterwards that many really regained ambition enough to decide to go on in business, and to get house and home again settled. Others, however, were more spry."
The city council responded to the fire by realizing that they probably weren't going to collect much in the way of taxes from the devastated property owners, and asked for a loan of 500 pounds from the provincial assembly, which was granted. Of those who were ruined by the fire, no one seemed to expect any help from the government or anyone else, and they got exactly what they expected.
Though the fire destroyed much of the business area of Fredericton and some of its foremost residences, what rose from the ashes was bigger and better, according to the 41-year vantage point of The Gleaner report.
"Fredericton of that date was not by any means the neat, handsome and healthy Fredericton of today," according to the newspaper. "In the place of the present well kept streets and asphalt pavements, were the soft, dusty and sometimes very muddy roads, and the narrow walks of deals or clay and gravel. Where today stand The Fine Brick Blocks of Owen Sharkey, the Barker House, John McDonald's residence, etc., stood either one or two storey wooden buildings of common architecture, used for the most part as stores below and dwellings above.
Limited Communication
"In those days Fredericton was, of course, without railway service; it had no telegraphic communication with the outside world, and it only enjoyed the advantages of gas lighting within ten days of the date of the fire, the gas having been turned on November 1st, 1850. Stage and steamboat were the people's only means of travel then, and it is not, therefore, surprising that the first news the people of St. John had of our great disaster was on the evening of the twelfth."
"In those days Fredericton was, of course, without railway service; it had no telegraphic communication with the outside world, and it only enjoyed the advantages of gas lighting within ten days of the date of the fire, the gas having been turned on November 1st, 1850. Stage and steamboat were the people's only means of travel then, and it is not, therefore, surprising that the first news the people of St. John had of our great disaster was on the evening of the twelfth."
Although other forms of mass communication were absent, the young city suffered no shortage of newsprint. "Fredericton, it would appear, has always been favored with more than its share of newspapers; even as far back as '50 it supported three weeklies, The Reporter, controlled then by James Hogg; The Head Quarters, managed by James Phillips; and the Amaranth, which was destroyed in the fire, edited by Mr. Lorrimer," The Gleaner noted.
Although the city eventually recovered from this most disastrous of many fires and went on to greater prosperity, Fredericton's Great Fire of 1850 was, as The Daily Gleaner put it a century ago, "a scene never to be forgotten."
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