Sheffield was startled yesterday by the news, which spread very
quickly, that Ranmoor Church was on fire. Many people heard of it while
on their way to morning services; others knew nothing of it until they
had left their respective churches and chapels, by which time the
beautiful edifice which formed so picturesque a feature in the most
attractive of our suburbs was a mass of charred and smouldering ruin. A
fire in a great town like this is no unusual sight; but a church in
flames is, happily, an unprecedented spectacle with us. This was
what met the eyes of those who followed the Fire Brigade, as they
hurried, fast as the frozen and slippery roads would permit, to
Ranmoor. The Church of St. John the Evangelist, the magnificent gift of
the late Mr. J. Newton Mappin, which filled up the pleasant ground
rising above Ranmoor road, was wreathed in flames from the chancel to
the western gable, from the organ chamber to the southern porch.
It was
an impressive and a sorrowful scene. Here and there, as the fierce heat
burnt away the timber, the loosened tiles dropped into the interior,
and through the roof protruded tongues of fire; these, meeting, formed
ever-broadening belts of flame, which made the tar coating run like
ink, and consumed everything within reach so rapidly that within forty
minutes of the outbreak being observed nothing was left of the interior
of Ranmoor Church except the blackened walls.
The fire of an hour had
wrought a weird and wondrous change. The church had been made ready for
morning service: on the altar were the vessels of silver to be used in
the Communion. Everything was becoming and beautiful, as befitted the
House of God. An hour later and the interior of the sacred edifice was
as a roaring furnace, with the flames crackling and hissing, liquid tar
and burning timbers falling on nave and chancel and organ-chamber,
wrecking and ruining wherever they fell. Nothing was saved from the
fury of the fire, the very service spread upon the fair white cloth,
melting as if in a furnace.
When the disaster was at its height the
spectacle is described by those who saw it as exceedingly beautiful.
The interior was one seething mass, which outlined the architectural
features of the building; as beam after beam crashed into the nave a
great shower of sparks rose above the flames, which licked the
limestone and threatened to burst the very walls which 'prisoned them.
All the time there was a noise as of the roar of many furnaces when the
doors are thrown open, and very soon the great volumes of black
smoke, lit here and there by lurid gleams from the nave, told to
Ranmoor that its church was doomed. And not yet all Ranmoor, for at the
hour for service there came up members of the congregation who learned
for the first time that the building in which they had hoped to worship
on the opening Sunday of the New Year had nothing left but the bare
walls and the belfry tower.
The fire was discovered by Thomas Leighton, of Upper Ranmoor
Road, the
clerk and caretaker of the church, whose duties required him to be at
work very early in the morning. He reached the church soon after
five o'clock, and remained until half-past eight, spending the greater
portion of his time in the cellar, attending to the heating apparatus.
The furnace, it should be stated, had been kept alight since Friday at
noon. There was a midnight service, which necessitated the building
being well warmed, and the fire within the furnace was kept going for
Sunday heating. In this, we understand, there was nothing of an unusual
nature. Leighton "fired up," got the furnace at a good heat, and at
eight o'clock left everything apparently safe. The next half hour he
spent inside the church, laying out the communion service ready for the
administration of the sacrament after morning service, and attending to
other duties of a routine character. At half-past eight o'clock,
all
then being as usual within the building, he went home for breakfast.
He
returned about twenty minutes after nine o'clock, again went into the
firing hole, and "fired up." Having turned on the water sprays for
ventilation purposes he came out of the cellar, and at this moment
detected a smell as of burning wood. Knowing he had put no sticks on
the fire he wondered what caused the smell, and turned towards the
chimney. Where he stood the chimney was not visible, but he saw smoke
overhead, and so much of it as to excite alarm. Hastily running round a
portion of the walls to get sight of the chimney, he saw the smoke, not
proceeding from the chimney only, but creeping through the roof of the
organ chamber. Leighton immediately opened the vestry door, and walked
through the vestry towards the interior of the church.
Most of our
readers will be familiar with the fact that the church has no
transepts, but is under one roof from end to end. There is, however, an
organ chamber, which juts out slightly like a transept and the vestry
is parallel, extending several feet beyond the end of the organ
chamber. As soon as Leighton stepped into the church his worst fears
were realised. The organ was on fire. The flames were bursting out all
about the top of the organ pipes, creeping inch by inch lower, whilst
forks of fire shot up against the arching, and curled upwards into the
roof of the church. There was a good deal of smoke, but not so much as
was afterwards the case. At this moment the organ alone was burning,
and being composed of very inflammable material, it did not produce a
dense mass of smoke.
Leighton ran out again, and was going towards the
road when he met a neighbour, whose attention had also been attracted
by the smoke. A horse was obtained from Mr. Outwin's yard, adjoining
the Ranmoor Inn, and away galloped the messenger to the Broomhill
Police Station. At Broomhill a telephone message was despatched to the
Fire Office, and Superintendent Pound and his men were soon speeding on
their way to Ranmoor, and at the same time the Broomhill hose reel
was journeying to the scene.
Meanwhile, Leighton appraised the Rev. A.
G. Tweedie of his discovery. He ran to the Vicar's house, hurried
forward into the hall, and called out at the top of his voice, "Mr.
Tweedie, the church is on fire." Having satisfied himself that Mr.
Tweedie heard his tidings he went on to the house of Mr. Hamer Chalmer,
one of the churchwardens, who was just sitting down to breakfast. Mr.
Chalmer left the meal untasted and was quickly with Mr. Tweedie, and
the two were soon afterwards joined by Mr. Robert Colver, the other
churchwarden. Mr. and Mrs. J. E. Bingham, whose front windows directly
face the west side of the church, were amongst the earliest to see the
smoke. At first Mr. Bingham could not believe that anything was amiss,
but when the real state of affairs was manifest he and his son were on
the spot in a few moments, and rendered much assistance.
Mr. Tweedie reached the church very soon after the alarm. He
succeeded
in getting into the vestry, and peeped through into the church. The
east end was then almost in total darkness. There was such a dense
volume of smoke that penetration of the sight was impossible. From the
organ chamber there were flames, but hardly any light was given out
from them, so condensed was the mass of smoke. Looking towards the west
Mr. Tweedie could make out the familiar objects of his church, but only
dimly.
To enter the church and save any of its contents was out of the
question; all Mr. Tweedie, Mr. Bingham, and the other gentlemen who
gathered round the doors could do was carry off some of the furniture
of the vestry, together with the books and registers from the safe, the
alms dishes, and the portion of the communion service not set out on
the altar. The flames, which for the moment had been clouded by smoke,
soon asserted their sovereignty, and almost as quickly as it takes to
tell it the whole building was ablaze. The roof was one mass of fire;
tiles were thrown about in all directions; there was a cracking as of
an immense furnace; and huge tongues of flames leapt up higher and
higher. The scene was one of great though awful grandeur, yet had it
been witnessed at night time the effect would have been immensely
enhanced. One by one the windows were blown out with a sound like small
artillery, the memorial windows going in the common ruin. Then the roof
began to fall as the smaller beams burnt out. The large west window
fell outwards with a great crash, and behind it came a great volume of
smoke, which as it cleared away, opened out a transformation scene of
thrilling splendour. The arched rafters of the roof were in a ruddy
glow, twinkling all over with points of fire, and then as they burnt
themselves out, they wavered in mid air, tottered and fell into the
ruins below, attended by a glowing shower of sparks.
Superintendent Pound received the call to Ranmoor at 9.50 and at
10.10
he was on the spot with the tender. The hose reel from Bromhill
preceded him by a few minutes and got to work from a hydrant in
Gladstone road. Superintendent Pound took in the situation at a glance.
The roof was then one mass of flames, and below the fire was raging
amongst the pews and decorations. It was evident that no good could be
done by bringing water upon such a conflagration, and time would only
be wasted in doing so. But the tower might yet be saved, and towards
the tower Superintendent Pound directed his effort. |