In the summer of 1883, Mr Fay toured the schools of
Sunderland looking for an audience for his forthcoming show. He promised that
every child would have a chance of receiving a present after the event, which he
billed as 'The Greatest Treat For Children Ever Given'. It was to be held at The
Victoria Hall. Having set the entrance fee at 1d, so that as many children as
possible could escape their often boring lives, for a few exciting hours.
When the day finally arrived two thousand excited children trooped into Victoria
Hall. Entranced by Mr Fays magic, boys and girls screamed with delight as his
voice reached across the stage. Wide-eyed and expectant, cheering and hissing
all at the right times, the children were quickly absorbed by the fantastic
entertainer. Although one of Mr Fay's turns, involving vast quantities of smoke,
caused several children to vomit, he quickly won them back and the children were
in their glory as the final act saw Fay 'hatching' pigeons and allowing them to
fly around the hall.
At 5.10pm, and the performance now at an end, as far as most of the children
were concerned the best was yet to come, the giving out of presents. Presents
were a rare treat to most of the children that were there. The Victoria Hall,
situated on the corner of Toward Road and Murton Street, was split into three.
The stalls seated about 1,000 people; the gallery had seating for 1,100 with
room for about 400 more. On this particular afternoon, the upper circle was
occupied by just one woman and her child, while the lower floors was full to
bursting, with excited children wondering what present they would receive.
Mr. Fay was a man of his word, and along with his helpers began throwing small
treats to the children in the body of the hall. Each throw resulted in a
scrummage as a beaming child secreted a gift, and others scampered for the next
treat. The children in the gallery looked on in horror, as no treats were coming
their way. The action was all downstairs. Suddenly the words they had been
waiting for, "This way for presents." Children nearest the upstairs exits who
heard the summons quickly slipped out.
They were followed down the flights of stairs hundreds of frenzied children
desperate not to miss out on the promised freebies. Whether the entrance to the
body of the hall was locked is not known, it may be that the doors were opened
so that only one child at a time could pass through. No matter which, a backlog
soon occurred.
The first people on the scene believed that three children tried to pass through
together and became wedged in the doorway. A flood of children then fell head
over heels, one on top of the other. Screams and shrieks echoed down the
staircases until all the air was squeezed from the tiny lungs, but more still
pressed down from above.
Mr Graham, the manager stated" When I approached the lower door I heard some
fearful screams, groans and noises of struggling. I rushed to the door and
attempted to open it, and found I could not do so; the bolt was in the socket
about two feet from the door frame, and the opening was jammed up nearly as high
as my head with the bodies of children. The manager rushed his way upstairs to
another route and came down stairways crammed with children. When we reached the
forth step from the bottom we found the children packed in a mass from that
place all over the whole of the landing below, there seemed to be hundreds of
them.
At first I did not think that any were dead, but when we tried to release them I
discovered my mistake. I tried at first to take out children from the thickest
of the mass, but they were so tightly wedged in that I could scarcely move them
without risk of further injury to their poor limbs, so I began by picking out
those little ones from the top who groaned, moved their limbs or showed other
signs of life.
Two gentlemen, one named Raine, quickly came to my assistance and we handed the
injured children through the window or the door to a constable who ran with them
to the porch of the building and placed them in the open air. We worked very
hard, but the children were lying wedged together eight deep and it was very
difficult to get at them." Some rather confused and contradictory statements
were taken from the survivors. 12 year old Thomas Wilson, who was at the back of
the main hall, stated that a man on the stage told those downstairs that
presents were available in the gallery.
At the door a man was standing giving
away presents but when the man saw a boy with five or six presents he said this
will never do and bolted the door. He then threw some presents towards the
street and told the children to leave via the Toward Road door.
Thomas managed to get a round whistle and made his way home, safely. Those
upstairs were not so lucky. Mr Simpson wrote to the local newspaper about his
son's experiences: My eldest boy was in the doomed gallery. His story of the
tragedy is that before the close of the performance he thought he would leave as
he had sense to know that there would be a crush on the way out. He descended
the stairs a few minuets before the finish.
When he came to the fatale door he found it shut and bolted. He tried to remove
the bolt, but he could not, and before he knew down came the human mass on the
top of him. How he was saved is a miracle to me. He felt as though he was
falling asleep. He was carried out into the hall, and by kind aid and medical
skill he was restored. Now if the door had been two foot open, and the bolt in
to allow one to pass at a time, he would have gone straight out.
The door had been shut and the bolt put down, and there was not a soul to guard
or look after this in any way.9 year old George Howitt was also in the gallery,
and he too left through a door which had been left some eighteen inches open. He
watched as a man give presents away and then noticed that the door was only a
little bit open. George had been sitting on a form with Frank and Emily Morris,
Emily was killed and Frank fainted but later regained consciousness. All 11 year
old Inez Coe was indirectly spared because of her disability. She went down the
stairs early to avoid the crush and was told by a man at the bottom that she
could not leave until the others from upstairs had come down.
Once the stampede started, Inez snuggled into the corner and used her crutch as
a crash barrier. She saw a boy fall down and others trip over him and she
squeezed into the corner as bodies piled up around her. After what must have
seemed like hours, she saw a man reaching down to pull out the dead bodies that
surrounded her. Screaming out take me out before the dead one's I'm alive. Inez
was hoisted clear. On reaching the outside she fainted but was revived with a
bucket of cold water.
The tragedy had such a traumatizing effect on it's survivors that ten years
later, Sidney Duncan, aged ten at the time of the incident, could recall the
events as if they had happened the previous day. "Within half a minuet I was
forced of my feet and almost buried in the struggling, dying mass. Only the
cries of a few who were being crushed in the pack behind could be heard. In
front comparative silence reigned but the writhings of the expiring little ones
were fearful to behold. I witnessed all, and lay unable to even aid myself."
Fully five minuets elapsed before assistance arrived.
From the contradictory statements it seems that , in the rush for presents both
from the gallery and the main hall, a member of staff must have bolted the door.
The intention being to keep the two sections of children separate. This action
was to cost the people of Sunderland dearly.183 children (114 boys and 69 girls)
were crushed or trampled to death and another 100 seriously injured. Most of the
victims were aged between seven and ten, but two were just three years old. The
mangled bodies, many barley recognizable, were laid out in rows for
identification. More than one family lost all of their children.
A man and his wife anxiously scanned the rows of the dead, his face blanched ,
and without showing any further signs of emotion pointed to a little figure,
that's one. A few yards later he pointed again, that's another. Then as he came
to the last child in the row, he lost composure and burst into loud sobs "My
God! All my family, gone." Queen Victoria wrote to the clergymen of the town,
who relayed her message of condolence at the subsequent funerals and services
through out the town. Let's hope her words come true, 'Suffer little children to
come unto me, for of such is the Kingdom of God'.
