F 158 .44 .F52 Copy 1 e!Fire!Fire/ c^BSiBBb ^SSSBSSBh ^^SSBmSi ^' AN ilCCO\]KT \ OF THE WHICH OCCURRED AT THE ORPHAN ASYLUM, OA THE MORJS*IJ>rG OF THE 2Uh OF MJ^UJiUY, 1822. Printed and Sold, at No. 212, Market street/cornev of Deeatur, (up staite. '9' /y, AN ACCOUNT, &c. ONE of the most awful calamities that ever occurred in this country, of a similar nature, we now feebly attempt to describe. About two o'clock on Thursday morning the alarm was communicated to the citizens, while slumbering in the pleasing arms of Morpheiis, by the ominous cry of our vigi- lant watchmen; and then by the ringing of fire bells, and the tumult of firemen. Most of the fire companies, together with a large portion of the citizens, repaired to the dreadful scene of conflagration; and we are extremely sorry to state, that but one of the engines could possibly be put into action, there not being water in the vicmity sufficient to supply more; and owing to the intense coldness of the night, it is presumed that most of the fire-plugs weire frozen. However, through the anxious exertion of the firemen, with the one engine, they suc- ceeded in saving the Widow's Asylum, which stands nearby, and which, fortunately, answered as a receptacle for those of the unhappy inmates of the other, who were fortunate enough to escape only with their lives, Mr. Walsh's observations on this account are so pathetick, that we cannot refrain from quoting them here: He says, "That beautiful edifice the scene of a most interesting and useful charity, the Orplmn^s Asylum^ at the comer of Schuylkill Sixth and Cherry Street, was destroyed by fire." " Nothing remains of it except cracked and tottering walls; all that was under the roof of a combustible nature^ was con- sumed ; furniture, bedding, clothing— -nothing was saved. The fire is said to have originated on the ground floor; where a domestick, as we learn, had been washing clothes, and hay- ing hung them around a stove to -dry, made up a fire in it, and retired to bed. The heat of the stove, probably, set the linen in flames." " But the eminently deplorable and heart rending part of the calamity remains to be told. From twenty to twenty-five of the poor orphans, inmates of the house are missing, and at present, when we write, it is not ascertained what has been their fate." " The idea that even of some of these have perished in the conflagration, is almost too harrowing to be borne, yet it is too probable, as the children saved were snatched up from their beds, or dragged from the midst of the raging element, by their intrepid deliverers." "The watchmen, we are told, were particularly active in the rescue of the Orphans. The names of Robert W. Nutter, and John Butcher have been mentioned to us as those of the two who made the greateSi\nd most perilous exertions on the oc- J 3 asion- The former took out the last child that was carried down the stairs, and in his endeavours to bring her off in safety, was obliged to clamber over the bannister, the steps being on fire. The little innocent, when he accosted her, begged him in her artlessness— " JVot to throw her into the Jire." "In the dormitory, some of the helpless, creatures were found huddled together, overpowered by apprehension. The screams of the sufferers were heard without the building. But we cannot continue, nor will our readers desire to have, the full narration. When the intense coldness of the weather, the in- clemency of the hour, the comparatively lonely situation of the Asylum, and the tender age of the victims, are considered, every trait of the horrible scene may be easily imagined." " We need not make a formal appeal to the sympathy and generosity of our fellow-citizens: No breast can be proof against the melancholy and pathetick nature of the occur- rence. Every kind of contribution in relief, will be accepta- ble, and is earnestly solicited. We have heard of theatres and hospitals, destroyed in this manner, being immediately rebuilt, once more amply endowed, by the communities among whom they flourished. The citizens of Philadelphia, will, we trust, now furnish another example of the kind." " The Orphan's Asylum was an excellent foundation — the benefits which it was designed to secure to individuals and the publick, were unequivocal — and henice the irresistible claim of the enterprise, independently of the lamentable mode of its interruption, to be re-established in its well-merited prosperity." We are told that a widow of the other Asylum, happened to be up at a late hour, and discovered the fire through the window — ^she ran out and alarmed an honest labourer in the neighbourhood, who, very thoughtfully, ran to the Asylum and burst open the door, and alarmed the inmates, part of whom were enabled to escape, he then flew to the city and spread the alarm. Five of the little innocents were found naked in the privy, half frozen, and when they were relieved, they begged their reliever not to throw them into the flames, artlessly supposing him to be an adversary. Some have asserted that the fire originated in the cellar, where ashes, newly taken up, had ^een put; but this seems to be an improbable story, as we may presume that,- to such a building as the Asylum, a proper place would be built, fire- proof, for that purpose. The cries of the children, from the windows, for help, for mercy, and for deliverance, were too horrible and effecting for description; — it is said that fifteen or sixteen actually perish" 'cdin one room; whether suflfocated by the sta.oke or burned by the flames, the reader can easily determine. The scene, however, was at once the most awful, the most^ affecting, and the most distressing, that human imagination can picture to itself! — The sparks and flakes of fire flew in the air to a surprising distance, owing to the wind being so extremely high; and some, consequently, fell on the roofs of the frame houses near the corner of Cherry and Juniper Street, and but for the pow- er of the same wind, which blew them off again, thpjjuildings would have been set on fire. A stack of hay, two or three squares distance, took fire and was consumed. The following is a list of the unhappy orphans, who were hurried to eternity in the most excruciating manner, namely: — Susan Petei'smij Elic&abeth Wells^ . Charles Mden^ Tryphena Collins, John Powell, Sarah Bowles, John Carson, Kemiah Seeds, Sarah Knight, Mary Marley, Mary Tatjlor, Priscella Andrews, Susan Samon, Mary Ann Dobel, Mary Lewis, Roxana Smith, Hetty Lewis, Catharine Fertner, Angtline Pitman, Mary Fertner, Catliarine Black, Mary Ann Davis, Mary Ann Shorthill. The parents of Mary and Hetty Lewis, mentioned in the foregoing list, were particularly unfortunate. They were na- tives of Scotland, and came to this country some years ago, with no other means of support than their industry. They were honest and deserving, and for some time provided for .themselves and children with no material difficulty. At length Mr. Lewis became consumptive, and at times was unable to work. He lingered with that disease for a year or two, during which time he and his fvimily suffered many hardships and privations, and he finally died. It is be- lieved that his wife did not survive very long after the death of her husband, but in what way she died is not known to us at present. Eventually the little unfortunates whom they had left behind, having no relatives on whom to depend for sup- port, were snatched from the reluctant arms of cold neglect, by the Orphan's friend, and placed in the house of warm pro- tection. But, distressing, indeed, is the sequel — the house of pro- tection is destroyed — and they, poor orphans ! gone to eterni- ty, by the most dreadful of all imaginable deaths ; but it is consoling to think, that they will meet their parents in those realms of eternal bliss, where no more sorrow or affliction can molest their happy spirits. In addition to those before quoted, Mr. Walsh gives the following interesting ^nd sympathizing particulars : 5 " The dreadful forebodings entertained yesterday^ in rela- tion to the fate of the orphans missing since the destruction of their Asylum, were, we fear, but too well founded. All of those whose names we published yesterday, remain undis- covered — Of the whole number, twenty-three, twenty are girls, and the particulars which we are about to mention, au- thorise us farther to believe the worst. The matron had been ill of pleurisy, and was bled the day before. She, with her daughter, and another young woman, an assistant, were the only inmates of the edifice. The matron was the first to awake, from difficulty of breathing, occasioned by the smoke. The two young women, and herself, rescued as many of the children as it was practicable to save, in the short interval of time that elapsed between the moment of their b6ing roused, and the period when the progress of the flames rendered it necessary for them to retreat. The matron mentions, that this interval was but a few minutes. " The girls slept in the third story, and, it appears, but is certain that the fire had gained so much head, before they were awakened, as to render their escape exceedingly difficult. Butcher, the watchman of the ward in which the Asylum stood, was first drawn to the building, and rescued several of the cliildren from the second story. Nutter, the watchman of the adjoining ward, was next on the ground. The latter attempt- ed to ascend the stairs alone ; but was driven back by fear of the smoke and flames, which were bursting out. He went up, however, in company with the other, and found on the stairs several of the orphans, whom they extricated. Nutter mounted again to the floor of the second story, and found himself enveloped in a suffocating smoke — he groped among the beds, which were empty — and then retreated through a window over the portico at the back door. When on the portico, he received into his arms a child from the hands of Butcher, and descended with his burden by means of one of the columns of the portico. By this time the flames had spread, and raged with so much fury that access, by the stairs, was no longer possible. An- other watchman informs us that, about this crisis, he heard screams and coughing, as if from the third story. Before the engines could be made ready to play, the interior of the edifice was wholly on fire. " The scarcity of water, and the extreme severity of the cold, which froze almost immediately what could be procured, formed distressing impediments to the zeal of the hose and engine associations. We are told that the great exertions of the Phoenix Hose company contributed chiefly to the preser- vation of the Widows' Asylum, the roof of which they found in flames. The cost of the Orphan's 4syliim, was, we leurn, ^20,299j (i and the value of the furniture, clothing, &c. destroyed, is es- timated at S 3000- The property was insured at §6,000 only. " The most praiseworthy liberality was yesterday shown by our citizens, in the best manner, in supplying clothes and other comforts for the poor orphans, whose original number altogether was ninety-one. We may hope to see this muni- ficence continued until no motive shall be left to bewail the disaster of the conflagration, except the awful circumstance which has riven every heart, and for which there is no solace but in a pious resignation to the inscrutable will of divine Providence." It is impossible to conceive the feelings of melancholy re- gret, that must have been impressed on the minds of those who beheld the dismal scene of collecting the remains of the poor departed orphans from among the ruins of the once useful edifice. We have not been informed of the exact number of bones that were found, but we have heard of a great nunaber of sculls and other bones of different parts of the body being found in disconnected forms and positions — But the description is too pathetic for the feelings of a sym- pathizing soul— we leave it to the imagination. We cannot discontinue this narration, without passing some brief observations, which must naturally follow, on the cha- racter of the very amiable Mrs. Ralston, who is now depart- ed. It is pretty generally known that she was the principal patroness of that useful institution, the calamities of which we have just been relating. Her benevolence, her sympathy, and her extensive genero- sity were experienced by many a houseless widow, and many a hapless orphan. In a word, she was a model for eve- ry kind of female virtue! When we reflect on the fate of those poor, unfortunate or- .phans, on their situations in life, and on the relation they have to society, we are lost in a labyrinth of melancholy sensations, from which i^ is difficult to extricate ourselves. And though destitute of parents, we must naturally suppose that they had other relatives and intimates who are left to bewail their ear- ly and unnatural death, in a more soul-afflicting manner than we do, or, perhaps, can form any exact idea of. The liberality of the citizens on this lamentable occasion surpasses eveiy expectation which was previously entertained. Messrs. Warren and Wood, of the Walnut Street Theatre, have given a benefit; and, we believe, have been very success- ful. One of the Masonick Lodges voted one hundred dollars to the institution; and the citizens generally, have contribu- ted generously indeed. Several Schools have made donations of different amounts, and we understand that two or three Churches intend taking up collections for the same benevo- "irent purpose. m jt^ 7 From these flattering prospects we may reasonably hope to see, in a short period, the Asylum rebuilt and established in its former elegance and usefulness; a circumstance which, af- ter so much sympathetick regret, will be gratifying to every %varm-hearted member of the community. HYMNS ON THE SORROWFUL OCCASION Beneath the touch of common wo, How soon our sorrows learn to flow ; Hark ! in what sadly moving strains. The tongue of altered fate complains ! See, at each pause, adown the face, Soft tears of anguish steal apace ; But from the eloquence of grief, The heart, complacent, finds relief; And as the stream of sorrow glides, The source from which it flows subsides ! But see the children doomed to burn, (Though many their misfortunes mourn,) Convuls'd, in agony, they stand, Fix'd are their eyes, and clasp'd their hands ; i^ No soft complaint their grief supplies, Nor finds a channel in their eyes ; Their breasts with hopeless anguish wrung, Thej'^ find despair hath not a tongue ! TO A SURVIVING ORPHAN, Poor Boy ! though, in thy tender years, Thy eyes are dimmed with flowing tears, Thy little hearts, dissolved in grief, Thou now canst hope from man relief. O ! child of sorrow, cease to weep. Though in the dust thy parents sleep ; The bands of death thou canst not break. Nor from the tomb the slumberers wake An early orphan left alone. Upon the world deserted thrown ; A mother's love who can supply ? Or watch thee with a father's eye ? Though all unmindful of thy good, Forgetful of a brother's blood, And heedless of thy woful state, Thv kindred cast thee off to fate ' LIBRARY OF CONGRES 8 The God who gave to them the power To aid thee in this trying hour. To thee his mercies may extend, And ever prove thy steadfast friend. His love the tender youth may shield, His hand exhaustless treasures yield, His wisdom pours the precepts Ifind Of life eternal in thy mind. Cease ! — child of sorrow ! — cease to weep. Though in the dust thy parents sleep. The Saviour of the world shall be A father ever unto thee ! 014 311 800 9 ON THOSE THAT PERISHED. Ye gen'rous souls, who melt at others' wo, Whose falling tears for others sorrows flow : Who kindly hope that all some blessings share ; Go, search those walls, and see the mourners thel-c Black horror reigns, no cheerful voice I hear, The groans of thousands strike my pitying ear ; The Orphans' sob, the big round tear of wo Down many grief-worn cheeks incessant flow . Moved at the sight, my soul oppressed with care, To Heaven's high throne I waft my humble prayer THE PRAYER. Alas ! how transient is the dream of life, And every heart-felt comfort we enjoy, And fraught with care, solicitude, and strife. Each hour attempts our blessings to destro% All human scenes are subject to decay, And time asserts an all-prevailing power Expanding beauties to the morning's ray, We bloom to whither as the tender flower. Not so the soul, its views sublime and pure. Where faith, and hope, and chanty unite. Shall rise, and dwell eternally secure, ^ In Heaven's unfading mansions ot delig'it FINIS LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 014 311 800 9 Hollinger pH 8^ Mill linn Pn.'L2193