Psychic_Sandwich wrote:If you go to central London and pay close attention, you'll notice that a lot of the older buildings have little bronze plaques on them dated from the 1800s and talking about fire insurance. If you didn't have one of those, then the fire brigade wouldn't help you if your building caught fire. That was a proper 'libertarian' system, in that the fire brigades were private organisations at that point. The actual effect was basically exactly the same as this, so the comparison is, IMO, an apt one.
There's a reason we abandoned that system, namely, that it was utter bollocks.
And example of this plaque system in the US:
Some more examples.
However, according to the
ushistory.org site about Benjamin Franklin and the origins of Philadelphia's Fire Department:
In a Gazette article of 1733 Franklin noted how fires were being fought. "Soon after it [a fire] is seen and cry'd out, the Place is crowded by active Men of different Ages, Professions and Titles who, as of one Mind and Rank, apply themselves with all Vigilance and Resolution, according to their Abilities, to the hard Work of conquering the increasing fire."
Good-will and amateur firefighters were not enough, though. Franklin suggested a "Club or Society of active Men belonging to each Fire Engine; whose Business is to attend all Fires with it whenever they happen."
Franklin's recommendations ultimately led in 1736 to the forming of Philadelphia's first volunteer fire brigade, the Union Fire Company. So many men wanted to join Franklin's Union Company that he suggested it would be more beneficial to the salubrity of the city if they formed their own fire brigades. In the next several years, Philadelphians witnessed the birth of the Heart-in-Hand, the Britannia, the Fellowship, as well as several other fire companies.
The logical next step was to form a fire insurance company. In 1751, Franklin and members of his Union Fire Company met with firefighters from other brigades for such a purpose. Over several meetings, insurance articles were discussed, drawn up, and presented publicly. All interested in subscribing to the project were told to sign a Deed of Settlement. The first to sign, Governor James Hamilton, was the son of famed "Philadelphia lawyer" Andrew Hamilton (see Independence Hall). Directly below Hamilton's signature are those of Benjamin Franklin and Philip Syng. Initially, over 70 prominent Philadelphia citizens became subscribers. On April 13, 1752, these men came together to elect a Board of Directors and Treasurer, who met for the first time on May 11, 1752.
At that meeting it was affirmed that those subscribed had agreed to establish an insurance company by the name of The Philadelphia Contributionship for the Insuring of Houses from Loss by Fire, and "to be and continue to be Contributors unto and equal Sharers in the losses as well as the gains." A dozen Directors were elected to the board. Franklin's name headed the list, followed by Philip Syng.
Syng, yet another of those extraordinary early Philadelphians, was an eminent silversmith and creator of the inkstand from which the Declaration of Independence was signed. In addition to being a vestryman at Christ Church and a member of the Philosophical Society, Syng found time to design the corporate seal for The Contributionship. Policyholders were required to affix these metal fire marks on their houses. Today, in Philadelphia, fire marks adorn many older and newer houses like a boutonniere on a suit.
Several Quaker merchants served on the original Board as did Samuel Rhoads, the Master Builder of Pennsylvania Hospital — the oldest continually insured institution in the country. Rhoads became the firm's first Surveyor, assigned to inspect buildings and determine if they were appropriate risks for The Contributionship. Once the recommendations of the Surveyor were made, all Directors voted on whether a property should be insured. All this occurred at a monthly meeting, which continues to this day (there are 10 meetings each year, and, of course, the directors have different duties now). The first group of Directors, who came up for re-election yearly, decided to levy fines on themselves in cases of absence or tardiness from these meetings. Money from these fines accumulated and was earmarked for civic improvements. The earliest fine money went into making and placing mile markers between Philadelphia and Trenton. Today a weather-beaten mile marker can be seen in The Contributionship's garden, a reminder of the firm's philanthropic past.
The first policyholders took out policies for seven years. After expiration, the premium money was returnable, subject to certain exceptions. Fire losses and office expenses were paid with money taken from a proportionate contribution of each policyholder.
Prudence coupled with providence have been hallmarks of The Contributionship.
Houses built not conforming to legal specifications were denied insurance. Mrs. Lydia Biddle, for instance, was denied insurance because of an unlawful wooden bakehouse adjoining her home. Early policyholders had to have a trap door to the roof as a way of fighting roof and chimney fires. During the British occupation of Philadelphia in 1777, a chimney sweep hired by the firm was sent around to occupied houses to maintain fireplaces. The lightning rod, invented by Director Ben Franklin, also helped to deter fires. Houses with trees in front of them were not insured because early hoses could not maneuver around them (this gave rise to a competitive company, the Mutual Assurance Company, which was better known as the Green Tree, which existed until 1997).
High-fire-risk businesses, such as apothecary shops and breweries, were either not given insurance or insured at significantly higher rates. Later, when skyscrapers were being built, the firm refused to insure them — and to this day, still don't. However, they do insure high-rise condominiums providing there is adequate firefighting equipment that can reach the insured space. Their judgment proved sound when the earliest Philadelphia skyscraper, the Jayne Building, housing pharmaceutical supplies, had a crippling fire which destroyed its top floors.
The Contributionship was fortunate in 1752, its first year, in that 143 policies were written and not one fire was recorded. In 1753, a house on Water Street became the first insured property to burn. Damage was great, but Franklin was happy to report in the Gazette that damages were to be immediately repaired without cost to the owner. Cost for repair totaled 154 pounds, nearly a third of the Society's assets. Each member had five shillings threepence per pound of deposit deducted to pay for the fire.
Over time The Contributionship's assets grew and they invested their money in various ways. They wrote mortgages and invested in stocks and bonds. They donated money to the volunteer fire companies who responded to structures insured by The Contributionship. Though volunteer fire brigades responded to all fires, they had more compelling reason to fight fires at buildings bearing The Contributionship's hand-in-hand fire mark. These fire marks served several functions. They indicated to fire companies that The Contributionship would reward them for a job well done. Often, firefighters were members of The Contributionship. The less damage to a building, the less deducted from their own premiums. However, if a house was uninsured, the fire would be put out regardless, despite what some modern historians and interpreters may claim. In any case, fire brigades would usually bill the uninsured householder or an insurance company with properties nearby to seek payment for their fine work in battling the blaze.
Take note of the last paragraph. Fires were put out, regardless of the status of the insurance. Quite sensible. People without insurance were billed afterward. So, it seems that though things may have been done differently in London, in early Philadelphia, at least, fires were not allowed to burn (as was the nonsensical case in Tennessee.)
