Saturday June 4th 1853 was a pleasant day in London and most workers in the factories and warehouses lining Wharf Road would probably have liked the day off or at least a half day holiday. Those working at number 18 would have been no exception so if their toil ended at the usual time there would still have been a warm and light evening to enjoy. On the other hand, as Superintendent Braidwood wrote; In warehouses and manufactories, fires are not infrequently caused by the workmen being occasionally kept late at work. By the time their task is finished, the men are so tired and sleepy, that the extinguishing of fires and lights is done in a very careless manner. Had this been the case at Wharf Road it is likely that a fire would have broken out a short time after the departure of the last worker but, even if there was no neglect in extinguishing a naked flame, perhaps some exhausted worker forgot to complete a routine but vital task. After the last of the staff had gone home the gates of the works would have been locked and, in the event of there being no night watchman, the site would have been left in charge of the strange model creatures that had travelled from South-East Asia as blocks of raw material. These, like all the rest of the gutta percha in the factory, were as inflammable as spirits of turpentine.
Sunday for many workers meant a visit to church or chapel but it was not a 7am call. People were still getting ready after ten when someone (it appears to have been either a Mrs Foster or a Mrs Granville) spotted smoke rising from the roof of the works. A small gratuity might be paid by both the Royal Society for the Protection of Life from Fire and the London Fire Establishment to the first person who reported signs of an outbreak, which probably explains why there were two claimants. Whoever raised the alarm, as the word spread religious meetings were put on hold because it was not just a building that might be in peril, it was livelihoods too. The source of the ensuing conflagration was never discovered although the fire appears to have originated in one of the boiler rooms in the centre of the site and started spreading more quickly than it should have done due to a mistake, probably made on the Saturday evening, of the kind warned about by Braidwood. The main building was fitted with internal iron doors that would have prevented, or at least slowed, the spread of fire but they had not been closed. Consequently, doorways simply became portals through which flames, fanned by a north-westerly breeze as windows and external doors were burnt out, spread. Although Wharf Road was not a residential street there were probably workers, mostly young men, sleeping in rooms above workshops and warehouses and Mrs Foster and her husband actually lived in the yard of Mr Gorton’s fire lighter business right next door to the gutta percha factory. A short time after smoke was sighted flames appeared in the factory windows helping spread panic in adjacent streets. Now only luck and cool heads could save the situation and prevent the loss of life, human or animal.
Given there were stables in the fire lighter manufactory it is likely Mr and Mrs Foster had responsibility for looking after the horses that pulled delivery carts. As the couple worked with the animals each day they would have known their individual temperament. Here coolness was certainly needed so the Fosters, even though they were very close to the fire being blown in their direction, would have needed to act as though nothing unusual was happening. In a city with so many horses it is not surprising Superintendent Braidwood had advice to give. Conscious of the need to maintain tranquillity, he suggested blindfolding a horse completely, so with some kind of makeshift eye cover Gorton’s horses could have been led into the street and then towards City Road. Despite this precaution, keeping the animals calm would not have been easy as people who felt they and their few possessions were in immanent danger would have been trying, amidst much shouting, to get themselves out of harm’s way as quickly as possible.
It was not long before those hastening to exit Wharf Road would have met others seeking to see what was going on. London is essentially built on flat ground with hills some distance from the banks of the Thames, so the rising smoke may well have been seen many miles away. It was not, however, the residents of a village such as Hampstead who began to make their way to City Road or Rhode's bridge. It was local residents drawn by the sight of others hurrying along the streets and the buzz of rumour. Some of the arrivals at Wharf Road would have simply hoped to get paid engagement on the levers of a fire engine but there would also have been hundreds of people distraught at seeing the source of their security going up in flames. Probably one early arrival was Mr Snee, Secretary of the Regents Canal Company, for he lived at Colebrooke Row, only a stone’s throw away. The gutta percha factory faced warehouses and yards serving the City Road Basin and as Mr Snee hurried over Frog Lane Bridge he would have been very concerned about fire vaulting Wharf Road. His mind would not have been put at rest on arriving at a point where he could observe the burning factory. This now offered increasingly spectacular sights, the flames shooting out of windows having such fury that it resembled, according to one commentator, more the eruption of some volcano than an ordinary extensive London fire.
After the alarm was raised at both the Society and the Establishment members of both organisations were soon on their way to Wharf Road. The first official to arrive was Mr Baddeley. It is no surprise the inspector, who had attended the disaster at the grocer’s shop in Denmark Terrace a few days previously, reacted so swiftly and, in the event of there being no policemen or other authority there, would have taken charge at the factory gates. Fortunately, given the business was closed, he was soon able to satisfy himself no-one was trapped inside so looked for a way to reduce the threat of the fire spreading and immediately saw two large metal tanks in the front yard contained naptha, which was already alight. As the increasing heat threatened to cause an explosion a chain of volunteers was formed, a water source found and buckets procured. This allowed Baddeley to throw water on and around the tanks which cooled them, reducing the chance of an additional calamity.
Baddeley’s action was commendable but it required much more than a bucket chain to get the flames under control. It required fire engines and the first one to arrive, probably as a result of being pushed along by willing hands, came from Esdaile’s City saw mill, which was nearby. Being privately owned it was probably more like the Trowbridge engine than the one designed by Braidwood for London’s streets. Although anything that could project an extinguishing jet was to be welcomed, many in the swelling crowds would have been anxious to see professional fire fighters in action and wondered how long it would be before they arrived. By coincidence Siemens and Halske had recently created a dedicated telegraphic communication structure for the police and fire brigade in Berlin but although there was nothing like that in London the Establishment headquarters was apparently informed less than 30 minutes after rising smoke had first been spotted. When Braidwood’s fire fighters were alerted so too were the ‘Bobby’s’ or ‘Peelers’, Metropolitan Police officers bearing nicknames derived from Sir Robert Peel, the politician responsible for the creation of the unarmed force in 1829. The relationship between the two bodies was good, and it had to be for crowds of onlookers always needed to be controlled whenever a large fire broke out.
Excellent organisation and training ensured that Establishment engines left a station very quickly once an alarm was raised. As the fire had started in district A then, according to regulations, all available engines and men from that area could be called to attend. They could be joined by one engine and two thirds of the available men from districts B and D and one third of the men from district C. The standard fire engine, which was manufactured on Blackfriars Road by Tilley and Co, weighed over 17 cwt and carried 4 cwt of equipment. With five firemen and a driver on board it needed two fast horses to make good time to a reported fire and this meant a speed of not less than seven miles per hour. Those firemen who had to make their way on foot were expected to do so more slowly, but at a minimum of four miles per hour although it seems more than likely that any in uniform seen hurrying along the streets would have been offered lifts in passing carriages or fast carts, such was the fear of fire in the metropolis.
The structure that Braidwood had created meant there would be no confusion as engines converged on the fire. In the absence of the superintendent authority devolved to the district foreman who was responsible for the deployment of all engines, including those called in from a different area. It was the district foreman’s responsibility to be aware of the water sources that could be used in a call out, which was not a problem around City and Wenlock basins as the mains had been installed by the New River Company. All the engineers, as those in command of an engine were called, would have probably known that too as anything expediting the erection of canvas cisterns, which were fitted tightly over opened plugs in the mains, would have been welcomed. Suction hoses would have been brought from nearby engines as the cisterns filled and pumping could then begin. By this time a sizeable body of strong men would have gathered in readiness to be called to work the levers, having already registered their names in order to be guaranteed payment. Now water would pass from the mains to the cistern and then, via the suction pipe, pistons and cylinders, to the ‘branch line’ hose. At the end of this was a nozzle from which a fireman could direct an extinguishing jet at the rate of nearly 90 gallons a minute.
As straight a line as possible would be maintained between an engine and the jet nozzle although all engines would be placed at a safe distance from the fire so no one working the levers would be put in danger. The illustration to the right gives some idea of a mid-Victorian fire fight, although it is not a depiction of the scene at Wenlock Basin. Once pumping began all jets were, under Braidwood’s instruction, to be directed at the seat of the fire and not, as had commonly been the case before the brigade was established, at drenching adjacent buildings. However, by the time the engines were being set up near Wenlock Basin it was clear there was more than one outbreak to fight. The speed of the spread of the fire within the factory building and its very ferocity, coupled with the breeze blowing ever more dangerous flames across the 100 foot width of the basin, meant there was a real threat that all the buildings on the east side of the basin would soon be burning down.
Superintendent Braidwood always aimed to be in attendance if a fire was of a significant size and would have been one of the first to know about the events at Wharf Road. However, as it was Sabbath it is possible there was some delay in getting the information to him. The Superintendent lived at the Watling Street headquarters but, being a deeply religious man, it is likely that he and his family may have gone the Crown Court Church in Covent Garden where many Scottish expatriates worshipped. Nonetheless, once informed and wherever he was, Braidwood would have made his way as quickly as possible to the Gutta Percha Company building seeing, as he approached, ominous clouds of smoke passing directly above.
All heads would have turned when the superintendent arrived for he was a London hero of many years standing and many in the crowd may have seen him before. Aware of how important it was to show he was supportive of the decisions made by an officer acting in his stead Braidwood would not have changed the district foreman’s deployment before surveying the situation for himself. It would have been most unusual for the fire chief to have immediately contradicted the orders of a district foreman at the site of a fire but given the level of training and cohesion in the Establishment, there would have probably been little chance of a dispute at that level anyway.
It would not have taken Braidwood long to assess how serious matters were and, after first walking down Wharf Road to get as close as possible to the front of the burning factory, would have made his way round to Wenlock Road. There was a good view of the whole basin from Edward Street and from there anyone may have caught sight of two desperate efforts to save material on the basin side. In Mr Gorton’s premises there were many stacks of dry, pine wood billets, a contemporary estimate of the volume being ‘140 fathoms or about one ship load and a half’. As the temperature increased so the top of the pile nearest the canal caught fire and the flames would have soon engulfed everything had it not been for the actions of several men who climbed adjacent piles, each of which were over 60 feet high. Once at the summit they started to push the one that was burning into the basin. Close by, behind the gutta percha factory itself, quick action also prevented much damage being done to a considerable length of insulated cable core manufactured for the Electric Telegraph Company. Coils were spread over two boats moored to the landing stage, which was difficult for the fire fighters to get at. As flames roared out of gaps in the walls, it appeared both boats and contents would soon catch fire. Fortunately, in what must have been a frantic effort, the whole core was, like Mr Gorton’s timber pile, pushed into the water. Most of the core was therefore saved but as the tongues of flame grew longer and the heat increased the two boats succumbed and then burned right down to the waterline.
As the fire raged bobbing heads in the water showed some men were taking advantage of the last possible refuge by diving in and swimming away to safety. Although fires could be observed on the other side of the basin they bore, as yet, no comparison to that in the factory and the strongest swimmers may have struck out for the canal towpath where willing hands could haul them out. Once in Wenlock Road Braidwood would have probably found a scene more chaotic than that in Wharf Road for although there were yards and commercial buildings on one side there were occupied houses on the other and there was no bridge to offer a quick emergency road exit over the Regents Canal. Many of the residents would have been panic stricken when burning embers, thrown fifty or sixty feet in the air when fire broke through the gutta percha factory roof, rained down. Despite the uproar Braidwood dealt with the matter in his usual calm way ignoring the clamour and pleas and any shrieks or screams. He realised that if the fires on Wenlock Road were not put out quickly everything within half a mile could soon be burning too but good planning and organisation meant he was able to marshal enough resources to counter this threat. Engines from Whitecross Street, Farringdon Street and Watling Street in section A were initially brought in before others, including those from Establishment sections B and D, were called on to provide more units. These were supplemented by one owned by the West of England Fire Office. This was kept in Waterloo Road on the south bank so the horses, like those pulling the section D engines, would have had to gallop across a Thames bridge to get to Islington. Why Braidwood failed to call in a section C engine is not known for the West of England was not part of the consortium that had initially set up the Establishment. Perhaps there was an understanding of mutual help in an emergency but on arrival it operated under the control of its own officer, Mr Connorton. However, in the circumstances, Connorton would doubtless have followed the directions of Braidwood and that would have applied to those in charge of the the saw mill engine and one belonging to a parish, probably St Leonards, too. Altogether there would be eight or nine engines sited in Wharf or Wenlock roads to fight the fires.
As new engines arrived they were deployed near the mains on both Wenlock and Wharf roads. On Wharf Road the crews the firemen were told to direct their jets towards the block warehouse, the tube manufacturing area and the mechanic’s shop, which were all clustered together. Braidwood thought these might be saved, given the breeze was blowing the fire away from them, but for the moment jets were no longer directed into the seat of the fire, which was still so intense that the water simply turned to steam. However, great efforts were made to save Mr Gorton’s premises although this meant much of the wood in his yard had to be thrown into the basin so the fire crews could fight the flames that had caught hold in the stables.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the basin, the firemen, after first checking the commercial buildings to ensure no-one remained, set about closing as many doors and windows as possible to starve the fires of oxygen and stop flame-fanning drafts. Each small enterprise seemed to have access to the basin from Wenlock Road, which meant firemen could remain in a yard to fight the fire although these areas sometimes contained a good deal of inflammable material. It was dangerous work both inside and out. The engineers had responsibility to ensure that their crews always worked in pairs so if one man was in difficulties help was always on hand. No fireman was allowed to enter a burning house alone and engineers, probably particularly conscious of Braidwood’s concern, kept those directing the jets under observation to ensure they did not become too competitive and try to get closer to the fire than was safe. Meanwhile, out in the street, the levers were being worked ceaselessly as residents, held back by Peelers, watched, hoped and prayed the brigade would be successful.
As in the case of all large fires in London the density and drift of the inevitable column of smoke would lead those who saw it to ask where the fire was and what caused it. Consequently, newspaper editors, always on the look out for sensation, would want to carry a lively report as soon as possible and these began to appear a few days later. Unfortunately, the rush to publish meant all facts were not always checked properly and anyone reading more than one paper might be puzzled at the contradictions.
One of the east side buildings under threat was the London Zinc Works. The proprietor of this factory, according to one newspaper report, was a Mr Lamanski. However, in an incident report written a short time later Braidwood confirmed the works were actually owned by N Rothschild and Co. In newsprint, the impression was sometimes given that the Gutta Percha Company belonged to Mr Statham and this appears to be what happened when reporting the fate of the zinc factory. Whatever official position Mr Lamanski held he had little time to organise the removal of a boat moored in the basin containing metal worth about £2000. Fortunately, enough workers turned up to move the vessel into a position where it would not catch fire, although it was a close run thing.
All through the summer afternoon, Braidwood circulated between the fire fighting crews whilst making time to speak to the owners and managers of the various enterprises that lined Wenlock Basin. Those involved in businesses that had taken out insurance policies with Establishment companies may have thought it only right that attention be given to saving their property ahead of those owned by people sometimes termed ‘free riders’. Eight properties were directly under threat by fire. These were the gutta percha and zinc factories, Mr Gorton’s patent fire lighter enterprise and the premises of a cooperage company, a brick and tile manufacturer, an iron founder and a coal merchant. The last four may not have been insured and, if not, the view may well have been taken that there was no obligation on the fire brigade to do anything to help them. Such an attitude, understandable though it might be, could have brought a greater disaster had it informed the deployment of the engines. It would have been unwise and impractical, for example, not to have fought the fire consuming the stock in one yard if it was clear it could spread to an insured premises right next door. On the other hand, it would, perhaps, be equally understandable if those who had not insured their premises took the view that if the directors and managers of the Gutta Percha Company had shown more concern for their neighbours they would not have allowed so much inflammable material, particularly oil, naptha and gutta percha, to be stored on site without better precautions against fire. They had a point.
Recriminations were probably suppressed so long as the fires burnt and the fire men continued their gruelling and exhausting work. At some stages they must have taken considerable risks in order to haul their hoses through buildings and into yards from which they could direct the extinguishing jets. As Braidwood knew, this could sometimes cause more losses than a fire itself so he had previously issued the brigade with hand held extinguishers in order to try and limit water damage. However, it seems unlikely if many, if any, were used around Wenlock Basin. Consequently, the zinc works suffered particularly badly from water ingress for it had machines installed in pits and as the engines poured water on the building these became filled with water. As the water rose maybe Mr Lamanski also felt the Gutta Percha Company had serious questions to answer.
It was sometime before the work of the engineers and their crews succeeded in damping down the flames on the east side of Wenlock Basin. However, nothing could be done to save the factory itself so at some point the crowds, which by now must have included some company directors and almost certainly an anguished Mr Statham, could only watch as the inevitable collapses of various parts of the structure continued. Cascading down, roofing material, beams, rafters, joists and floorboards would have piled up at ground level. Then the subsequent bonfire would have burnt with even greater vigour, the heat being so intense it turned production machine into useless scrap. Many more tons of water would still need to be drawn from the mains and sprayed on the fire until it was finally put out.
It was late evening before the fire fighting teams were able to relax and the collapsible levers on the Establishment engines could be finally folded up, allowing those who had worked them to return to their homes. They might now have aching bodies but at least they could expect payment, probably at the rate of 1 shilling for the first hour and sixpence for each subsequent hour, for their efforts. Most exhausted fire men could go too and even those who had to remain in order to contain any flare ups were first sent home to change their soaked clothes. The water supply to the cylinders was disconnected, the suction hoses and branch pipes wound up and the kit loaded onto the engines. Drawn by two patient horses most engines would then begin to return to their respective stations. It had been a job well done. No doubt the weary firemen were congratulated as they passed the remaining pockets of the dispersing crowd of thousands and, once they removed their helmets, sympathetic glances would surely have been cast at those handsome and uniformed, if grimy, fighters against what Braidwood called a powerful and an insidious enemy. Some of those sympathisers would have remembered the day forever and perhaps told their grandchildren of it more than once as the nineteenth century ended and the twentieth began.
When London Became An Island
Gutta Percha comes to the Metropolis
Chapter 17 - Saving Wenlock Basin
Commanders and clippers
Working the levers
Fire plug with canvass cistern
Sketch map