Fires and Firemen

Fires and Firemen

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Title: Fires and Firemen
Author: Anon.
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The Eclectic Magazine of Foreign Literature, Science, and Art Vol
XXXV.--No. I May, 1855.
1: Fires and Firemen Annual Reports of Mr. Braidwood to the
Committee of the Fire Brigade [From the Quarterly Review]
Among the more salient features of the Metropolis which instantly
strike the attention of the stranger are the stations of the Fire Brigade.
Whenever he happens to pass them, he finds the sentinel on duty, he
sees the "red artillery" of the force; and the polished axle, the gleaming
branch, and the shining chain, testify to the beautiful condition of the
instrument, ready for active service at a moment's notice. Ensconced in
the shadow of the station, the liveried watchmen look like hunters
waiting for their prey--nor does the hunter move quicker to his quarry
at the rustle of a leaf, than the Firemen dash for the first ruddy glow in
the sky. No sooner comes the alarm than one sees with a shudder the
rush of one of these engines through the crowded streets--the tearing
horses covered with foam--the heavy vehicle swerving from side to
side, and the black helmeted attendants swaying to and fro. The wonder
is that horses or men ever get safely to their destination; the wonder is
still greater that no one is ridden over in their furious drive.
Arrived at the place of action, the hunter's spirit which animates the
fireman and makes him attack an element as determinedly as he would
a wild beast, becomes evident to the spectator. The scene which a
London fire presents can never be forgotten: the shouts of the crowd as
it opens to let the engines dart through it, the foaming head of water
springing out of the ground, and spreading over the road until it
becomes a broad mirror reflecting the glowing blaze--the black,
snake-like coils of the leather hose rising and falling like things of life,

whilst a hundred arms work at the pump, their central heart--the
applause that rings out clear above the roaring flame as the adventurous
band throw the first hissing jet--cheer following cheer, as stream after
stream shoots against the burning mass, now flying into the
socket-holes of fire set in the black face of the house-front, now
dashing with a loud shir-r against the window-frame and wall, and
falling off in broken showers. Suddenly there is a loud shrill cry and the
bank of human faces is upturned to where a shrieking wretch hangs
frantically to an upper window-sill. A deafening shout goes forth, as
the huge fire-escape comes full swing upon the scene: a moment's
pause, and all is still, save the beat, beat, of the great water pulses,
whilst every eye is strained towards the fluttering garments flapping
against the wall. Will the ladder reach, and not dislodge those weary
hands clutching so convulsively to the hot stone? Will the nimble
figure gain the topmost rung ere nature fails? The blood in a thousand
hearts runs cold, and then again break forth a thousand cheers to
celebrate a daring rescue. Such scenes as this are of almost nightly
occurrence in the Great Metropolis. A still more imposing yet dreadful
sight is often exhibited in the conflagrations of those vast piles of
buildings in the City filled with inflammable merchandise. Here the
most powerful engines seem reduced to mere squirts; and the efforts of
the adventurous Brigade men are confined to keeping the mischief
within its own bounds.
When we recollect that London presents an