At the Drill Hall
Collapse of
a Gallery
Fall of 400
People
List of the
Injured
Plenty
of novelty and excitement had been promised concerning last night’s
entertainment at the Drill Hall, but nothing approaching the sensation which
transpired was, of course, either promised or expected.
Those
who knew anything of Prof. Smith’s interesting performances were fully prepared
to see the hall well filled, in view of the special circumstances of the
occasion, but the most sanguine never dreamt that there would be such a demand
for seats, and the management of the show could hardly have surmised that the
performance would be so popular. In expectation of a full house, persons who
had secured tickets went unusually early; but after half-past seven there was
hardly any getting into the building, and it was only by persistent pushing or
by the friendly help of the police that ticket holders could effect an
entrance.
At a quarter to eight the scene inside the
premises was a notable one. Temporary galleries running all round the building
had been constructed, and with the exception of the highest priced seats –
which were marked 4s, but called as 6s – every place was crowded. The crush was
greatest in the shilling gallery, and it was here that the mishap occurred
subsequently. Long before eight o’clock the doors had been closed, but still
the people seemed everywhere struggling for seats, and many who were unable to
find places on the cheaper sides of the house rushed over to the reserved
gallery, which a few seconds later they were requested to vacate. Most of them
obeyed the request, and the crush in the shilling gallery as the disturbed ones
forced their way up through the dense mass of people became tremendous.
The
gallery, it should be explained, was built in four sections, the two inner ones
of which gave way. It was composed of new, stout timber, but in the opinion of
many who afterward examined the material it lacked sufficient support for a
structure which was to bear the weight of so much human life.
The
officials of the show were busy getting people to their places at a few minutes
after eight o’clock, when, without the slightest warning, the shilling gallery
– at the end nearest to the Salisbury Club – collapsed. Simultaneously with a
cry of alarm throughout the building all eyes turned in the direction of the
gallery, the occupants of the middle two sections of which were seen to throw
up their arms and disappear from view almost gently as the timbers broke or
were torn from their fastenings one after another.
Some
idea of the nature of the gallery may be gathered from the fact that there were
some 18 or 20 planks for seats running up from the enclosure to the wall, and
it was estimated that from 400 to 500 persons crowded the two inner sections.
Seeing that those on the back seats must have fallen a distance of 20 feet or
more, it was feared that the calamity was one which would be attended with
fatal results, but fortunately the consequences proved to be not of so serious
a nature.
Persons
in the front or lower seats of the structure were very soon on their legs again
and away into the enclosure, but it was some time before those behind could be
got out from the confuses mass of human beings and broken timber forming one
huge heap. To their credit, the remainder of the immense audience behaved
admirably, and by sitting still enabled the show officials and the police to
proceed uninterruptedly with the work of rescue.
Those
of the galleryites who had escaped unhurt made their way to places in the
reserved gallery, from which they were no longer excluded, and to the great
relief of everybody present it was soon found not only that there was nothing
worse than injury but that those hurt numbered less than a dozen. So far as
could be seen only one woman and one boy were amongst those who fell and
apparently they escaped, like the majority, with a severe shock to the system.
No
time was lost in attending to the wants of the injured who were removed to the
Royal Infirmary. Valuable help was rendered by a large number of police under
Chief Supt. Cann and Supt. Croker, and a little later the scene of the accident
was visited by the Chief Constable. After an examination, it was considered
that the two sections of the gallery still standing were in a safe condition,
and they were very largely occupied throughout the evening, despite the ominous
looking gap between them.
All
this had brought the hands of the clock to half-past eight, and then Prof.
Norton B Smith found time to address a few words to the two thousand or so who,
by their exemplary conduct, had prevented the development of a very alarming
incident into a panic. It was a fortunate circumstance, in one sense, that very
few women – probably less than a dozen – were present, although in justice to
the sex it should be stated that the few who were there behaved no less
admirably than did the men.
In
addressing his audience, Professor Smith stated that it was his first accident
in the course of many years’ experience; and, expressing deep regret at what
had occurred, he took the opportunity of clearing the management so far as he
could from responsibility for the mishap. He stated that the galleries had been
erected by a contractor in the city – he ignored cries of “Name” – and that in
good faith the management left the work in his hands. To this the manager (Mr
Nat Behrens) added a few words, and, after blaming the people for the unseemly
rush for places, he announced that the feeling of the management would prompt
them – he promised on behalf of Professor Smith and himself – to give the
proceeds of that evening to the sufferers by the accident, a statement which,
of course, was hailed with a loud outburst of applause.
It
was 8.40 when Professor Smith began the performance, and his first subject was
a horse belonging to Mr George White, of Cotham. The animal was a very nervous
one, but the professor, probably upset to some extent by the occurrence of a
few minutes before, seemed to have more than usual trouble in reducing the
animal to control and quietude in the extraordinary conditions to which he
subjects all horses sent into the ring.
The
audience showed some signs of impatience when the second subject proved not to
be Mr Shellard’s stallion; but they were advised to wait a few minutes, and at
9.40 the promised event of the evening arrived. The stallion, a black, ungainly
looking brute, was brought into the ring wearing mask and muzzle, and, with all
eyes upon him, was led to the middle of the enclosure.
The
professor explained that never before had he seen the animal, and gave as the
horse’s record that he had killed one man and bitten the arm off another. The
horse’s mask having been taken off, he was surrounded by Mr Smith’s assistants
and, by means of a number of ropes wound around him, was thrown to the ground,
kicking and struggling tremendously. He was then safely secured in the manner
adopted by Professor Smith – by reins and ropes attached to the front fetlock
joints – and thus bound he proved as quiet a subject as either of the horses
previously dealt with, remaining quiet during the beating of drums and firing
of revolvers: allowing the professor to place his hand in its mouth over and
over again, and going quietly in harness during the blowing of the steam
whistle and the infliction of other tests.
Every
act of the professor and his assistants were followed with the closest
attention, and the accomplishment of test after test was hailed with an
outburst of applause, clearly indicating the fullest satisfaction of the
spectators. Owing to the late hour the programme had to be shortened, and at
the close it was announced that Mr Shellard’s stallion would be amongst the
subjects to be dealt with at greater length to-night. The tremendous crowd of
people awaiting the close of the performance interfered somewhat with the
outlet, and consequently more than the usual period of time was occupied in
discharging the building of its immense audience; but as far as was observable
everything passed off in the most orderly manner.
Outside The
Gates
Many
of the people who crowded Queen’s Road immediately prior to the accident had
been disappointed at learning that all the shilling seats in the Drill Hall had
been taken; but notwithstanding repeated explanations to this end pressure
around the entrance to the building continued. “No more shilling tickets” was
the managerial order; and soon, some time before eight o’clock, Mr Nat Behrens
had to announce from the gates that the two shilling section of the house had
also been filled.
The
gates had to be closed, some impatience being exhibited by people in the crowd;
and the hasty intimation conveyed to Mr Nat Behrens that something was amiss
inside was only imperfectly understood by those who blocked the roadway.
But
in a few minutes matters were made more clear; and interest and anxiety were at
once aroused on two injured persons being carried to a cab. They were a man
named Brewer, and a boy named Young. Detective Inspector Robertson, who had
witnessed the accident, and had assisted in extricating the injured from the
shattered timbers amongst which they had fallen, had found Brewer lying head
downwards, jammed between portions of woodwork, Young being on top of him.
The
wonder was that they results of the accident, so far as these particular cases
were concerned, were not more grave; as it was Brewer was unconscious when
removed, Young having previously been carried to a place of safety on the
shoulders of a man, who promptly volunteered assistance. Detective Inspector
Robertson recognising the importance of the sufferers receiving medical
attention without delay, lost no time in getting them outside the hall, where a
private cab happened to be stationed.
Without waiting to make inquiry, he had his charges carefully placed in the
vehicle, and the driver at once conveyed them to the Infirmary, where they were
soon in the casualty ward.
Meanwhile,
rumours spread alarmingly. The hurried departure of the cab sent to the
Infirmary was sufficient to set questions and conjecture afoot; and in a short
time the place was besieged with eager inquirers. The police, strengthened by
the arrival of several constables, did their best to regulate traffic and
maintain a clear space for the ingress and egress of those whom duty summoned
to the Drill hall. Every incident caused commotion amongst the hundreds of
people who speedily blocked the thoroughfare.
Following
Detective Inspector Robertson’s departure, there was the hasty journey of
Inspector Gotts to the central police station for the ambulance wagon and the
hand stretcher. The stretcher from the Clifton station was also sent for, and
there was work for both stretchers and the wagon when they were brought on the
scene. Reliance was not placed on these alone. Cabs were requisitioned, so that
time should not be wasted in despatching people who were hurt to the Infirmary,
and so promptly were these labours discharged that it was calculated by a
quarter to nine all the sufferers had been removed. But by this hour public
excitement had become if anything more intensified.
Rumours
of a most alarming character had gone abroad, and from all parts of the city
and Clifton, people had come to glean the latest particular. With the gates
closed and admission to casual inquirers refused, it was freely surmised that
the performance within the building had been stopped, and in many instances
imagination went far wide of the mark in picturing the nature of the accident.
The police did their best to satisfy those who were solicitous for the safety
of friends believed to be inside the hall, but it was not until the evening had
considerably advanced that false alarms were effectively negitived, and the
crowd, which at one time numbered, it was estimated, upwards of 3000 people,
diminished. And not until the building was emptied of its audience between ten
and eleven o’clock did the people entirely disperse.
At The Infirmary
List of the
Wounded
The
news of the accident quickly spread, and immediately the police at the Central
Station received information of what had occurred the police ambulance was sent
up to the Drill hall to facilitate the removal of the injured to the Infirmary.
Those
who were earliest extricated from the mass of fractured timber and needed
surgical treatment were driven down in cabs to the institution, and the rest
were brought there in the ambulance. The first of the sufferers was admitted
about a quarter past eight, and others kept arriving for fully half an hour
more, and all the injured were taken into the casualty room, where they were
attended to by Mr W J Hill (the house surgeon), Mr H L Ormerod (the house
physician), Mr E H Clarke (one of the resident staff) and Mr Beavis (student
for the week).
A
large crowd assembled outside the Infirmary, people from all parts of the city
flocking there to learn if their friends were among those hurt, and the
officials in the porters’ lodge were kept well occupied for a long time in
replying to the many anxious inquiries continually made.
Five
of the men admitted – apparently no women were injured – received treatment and
were then able to leave for their own homes, but in a similar number of cases the
medical staff ordered their detention in the institution. One of these latter
came from Newport and of the others, two came from neighbouring villages. It
would seem that the audience at the Drill hall contained a large sprinkling of
people who had come from places around Bristol, attracted to the hall by the
novelty of the entertainment.
The
injured persons taken to the Infirmary
were:-
Joseph
Williams (17), Westbury-on-Trym; fractured ribs and thigh
Thomas
Pope (47), 23 Deacon Street, Dean lane; fractured ankle
William
Templer (32), 145 Whitehouse lane, Bedminster; broken leg
John
Blake (37), 31 Baldwin Street, Newport; fractured ribs and arm
Samuel
Wall (60), Dundry; injury to eye and ankle
Not
Detained
Edward
Young (14), 30 Bedford street, Stapleton
Rd, injured leg
Henry
Brewer (37) 7 Bush lane, Easton; cut head
Cornelius Burrell (36) Wardlow road, Bedminster;
injured arm
George
Bakehouse (62) 116 Hotwell road; injured ankle
William
Parchler (16) 116 Oxford street, Totterdown;
injured ankle
—
Narrative of
the Accident
Williams,
the most seriously hurt of the injured, was accompanied to the hall by a party
of friends from Westbury, and among them was Chas. Partridge, a gardener living
in the village, who, in an interview with a Mercury reporter, said that he and
his companion occupied shilling seats, about the sixth row from the top at the
far end of the hall, facing the clock.
The
place was crowded; and the Professor, on entering the arena, requested several
people standing in the enclosure to find seats, as he would not allow anyone to
stand during the performance. They were accommodated with seats, and the
Professor began a few preliminary remarks before giving his exposition of horse
taming. Suddenly, whilst he was speaking, there was a crash; and, continued
Williams, “the seats where were sitting gave way, and all the people in that
part fell with the falling timber in a confused mass. Two or three women who
had been sitting near fell with us, and one was almost alongside me.
The
smashing of the woodwork and the cries of the injured caused intense excitement
and the people from the other parts of the hall crowded round where the
accident had occurred. I happened, very fortunately, to drop between one of the
planks, but there were several people on top of me, and though I heard Williams
calling to me for assistance – he was crushed between the timber – I could not
get to him until I had been extricated. I must have been lying there for about
ten minutes; but directly I was free, with the help of others, I got Williams
out from the debris. We could see he was badly hurt and suffering great pain.
Two
or three gentlemen – doctors or students, I suppose – finding that his thigh
was broken, strapped him up as well they could; and as by this time the police
had arrived, and had cleared the crowd away from that part of the building, we
were able to convey the poor fellow on a stretcher to the police ambulance, I
went with him to the Infirmary, and saw him taken into the casualty room to be
attended to. As for myself, I did not trouble the doctors, although my back was
very sore, through the weight of the people who fell on top of me.”
On
inquiry at midnight at the Infirmary we learnt that the five persons detained
there were making as favourable progress as could be expected, including
Williams, who, we were informed, would probably recover from his serious
injuries.
- Cornelius Burrell (1857-1928) —was a haulier who lived in the Bedminster area most of his life.
