BURNING OF THE SURREY THEATRE

Lyttelton Times, Volume XXIII, Issue 1397, 9 May 1865, Page 2

BURNING OF THE SURREY THEATRE

( From the Timen, Feb. l,)

For the second time the old Surrey The been totally destroyed by fire. When we w llaß this we have said the gist of all that is reilkT sai<l about the matter. At 20 minutes to 12 on v'*™ night the alarm of "Fire!" was given-™,'' not a second too soon—at a quarter to ' t i ;' IVfcn ing was empty, awl at 12 it was a rtd-ho< The causeof the disaster is only dimly con if-, tur 1 is,in fact, a matter of very secondary hnportancr w"? such a host of combustible influences always »t in a theatre, and at no time more than durin*? performance of a pantomime, it is su W . r f]J e imagine which of the lending dangers pr m .'i 7 on this occasion. The whole building which very old one, and built mainly of wood, imro't Has - a a few minutes like a tar barrel. Inquiri-a vc-mm m show that most happily, or, as we may t.-nn ?> ay providentially, no lives were lost. That t'v'/'"'i 1 was not very much worse is due to a v< ;r v w ' f . t , and a very thin house. The pantomime'w-j," T over, many of the audience had left, and even 7 7 attendance in the pit and gallery was thumin when Mr. Kowella, the clown, coming on the sta was alarmed by a peculiar dullish glare prorH,£ downwards from the opening in the ceiling to nhinh the great chandelier was suspended. lb- at ", left the stage and told his fears to Mr. V, r ,'V'; stage-manager, who instantly dispatched ' n to ascertain the cause of such an ominous ;ivsance. Before they could reach the spot, hv.v'evt-' the glare had so much increased that the a noticed it. A cry of " Fire! " was raised f r ' ' many parts of the house, followed instant)- hv rush of smoke through the opening in the mixed with long white flames. Mr. Green a rushed to the front of the'stage and implore] tk audience not to be unnecessarily alarmed, but t, ; * out quietly, as there was no cause for 'imrnHia't'. fear. This sensible advice was followed, us it usually is on such occasions, by a regular stampede' Women screamed and rushed about to any of egress, others, who sought to restore order only added to the confusion by their inarticulate touting. The gallery stairs seemed, for a invm-nt" blocked, and men slid down the columns into th<-dress-circle and the pit. Even the coolest, and those most likely to see the value of Mr. Green's advirV were also those who best knew the appalling rapidity with which theatres burn, and tnat the loss™ or a f.-V seconds might leave them helplessly face to face with the most terrible form in which death can com* upon humanity. Some of these who were most collected made their way upon the stage, the curtain of which had been lowered. Behind, however, confusion was for a time worse confounded, for the gas had been turned off at the first alarm, and the poor ballet girls were running about screaming, an 1 not unnaturally terrified at the knowledge that the sparks which others less dangerously clad might face with impunity would bring certain death to them. At that time there was not a moment to lose, the ceiling, composed of light timber and painted canvas, began to buckle up, the flames broke through in several places, and within five minutes after the alarm great flakes of burning canvas were falling h a thick fiery shower over all part 3 of pit anil gallery. In another minute a great sweep of flame iick-.- l up the curtain, which seemed to disappear before it, am!, pouring over the stage, flies, wings, and flats, they were set fire to instantaneously, and the whole theatre—gallery, boxes, roof, and stags—became one mass of bright flame. Fortunately, before this, the chief pantomimists, Mr. Rowella, the clown, Mr. Evans, the pantaloon, Mr. Vivian, the sprite, Mr. Green, the stage-manager, and others behind the scenes, had dragged out as fast as they could find them all the ballet girls, children, aud supernumeraries that assist in the performance of the pantomime, and who, in their light thin dresses as fairies, were huddled miserably together in the half-thawed snow and sleet till they were kindly sheltered in adjoining houses. Hardly were the last clear of the theatre when the whole interior became a mass of flame, in which nobody could have lived for a single instant. So rapid—so almost instantaneous was the spread of the fire that not a single thing was saved in the way of properties; not an article of dress belonging to the company—not even, as we are informed, the money taken during the evening. But for the exertions of the actors we have spoken of, the loss of life behind the scenes would almost certainly Lave been terrible. Even as it was, they had little more than time to save themselves, and they got out at last, grimed with stm ke and dirt in the dresses in which they had been performing, not having had an instant's opportunity to get even a coat or cloak for themselves. The theatre was all ablaze from top to bottom, and the fierce glare of flame lit up the sky half over London. There were soon plenty of engines and plenty of police on the spot, but. as the public is accustomed to hear on these occasions, all the efforts of firemen and engines were fruitless to save the building, and, indeed, could only feebly tend to check the spread of the flames to other houses. From the first, the case of the theatre was hopeless, and in less than an hour after the first alarm it had ceased to exist. The first Surrey Theatre, originally called theGeorge's Fields' Circus, was built in 1752 by Charles Dibdin, the poet. It was afterwards called the Royal Circus, and kept almost entirely for equestrian performances. In 1805 it was burnt, like its successor of last night, in the course of little more than an hour. The late theatre was built by Oabanel in and among its lessees were Elliston and l hom.b Dibdin, and on the boards of this theatre Buckstoue made his first bow to the public. The cek-brateu John Palmer was acting manager in 1790, when he was living within the rules of the Queen s Bench, and this engagement led to the abridgement by Lord Chief Justice Kenyon, of the debtors' privileges in Surrey, by excluding a!l publichouses and pkuxs or amusement from the rules. , , The lesses of the late theatre, Messrs. and Anderson, are, of course, great sufferers b* e fire. Mr. Shepherd estimates the value of the t.ieatro and its contents at about £12,000, and the insurance effected upon it, owing to the heavy dutv upon property of this description, was little nn>re than £2,000, thus entailing a heavy direct loss on the lessees. The loss will be much heavier whdi ilit sacrifice of a season in the height of its prosperity is taken into account. Mr. Shepherd, however. • man of energy, and, undaunted by his misfortune. is already talking of his intention to build a new am splendid theatre upon the site of the late buii'ii'V This is not the first time Mr Shepherd has . severe sufferer by fire. He was the leading mer under the late Andrew Ducrow, at the i v | "■ 1 when Astley's Theatre was destroyed by tire. 1 that occasion, he lost a valuable wardrobe ami •» 1 ■ crative engagement. , . , The late Surrey Theatre was one of tne ey* fashioned buildings to which the exits an 1 entnirv for the audience were many ami wide. ) et. •• all these means of escape from such a terrify fire, one cannot think without a shudder of «' hat result must have been if the calamity had happ^ !U during the first week of the pantomime, when house ,vhs thronged from basement to eeilinS ' 1 every available avenue behind the boxes blocks 1 1 with eager spectators. What would be the elrei 1 such an accident at several of our metropoi . theatres, which have only one or two long i' ;l " entrances between shops ? Yet the theatres, >a i •- they are in this respect, are on the whole inn"' 1 ■ better than most of the music-halls, which, as a rut. have only one narrow entrance. It would be 1 \ to suppose that we can always have sue '\ accidents as to time as that which the other aj* saved a vast audience from being roasted ain * Edinburgh. The public have had ample xvanU and unless the lessons which they teach are ai upon all England will, sooner or later, be app* l by some fiery calamity which will approiu'i horrors'even of the Santiago tragedy. It ina -\ „ that the majority of people hug thence with the notion that they at least wou ' .(J safe in auch a scene, as they would never j ie l the panic-stricken terrors of a crowd. But a 11,1.,l 1,1 ., stricken crowd is a kind of human inundation, w about the same amount of reason in it as an) torrent. It is very unwise to join in a panic r » but in most cases no alternative is left but with it or being trampled to death by it. - IK , the struggle, all is chance, and the coolest, stn»"r ' ■ and most active have not a whit more hope thai most timid or most feeble. In the slaughter w lately happened at Dundee there were more 3" men killed than young women, and in a some • similar accident 011 the gallery stairs of the Vic theatre some years ago, the sufferers who then • their deaths were all without exception lads or 3 men, though there were plenty of girls ana 3 ,= women in the same crowd. A crowd never that there is no proper means of escape tr • burning building, or a building supposed to be

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