E-text prepared by Steven Gibbs, Linda Cantoni, and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net)
Transcriber's note:
This e-book, a pamphlet by Gideon Harvey, was originally
published in 1769, and was prepared from a reprint in _The
Novels and Miscellaneous Works of Daniel De Foe_, vol. 5
(London: Henry G. Bohn, 1855), in which it complemented a
reprint of Defoe's _A Journal of the Plague Year_.
Archaic spellings have been retained as they appear in the
original, and obvious printer's errors have been corrected
without note.
AN
HISTORICAL NARRATIVE
OF THE
GREAT and TERRIBLE
FIRE of LONDON,
Sept. 2nd 1666
HISTORICAL NARRATIVE
OF
THE FIRE OF LONDON.
No sooner was the plague so abated in London that the inhabitants
began to return to their habitations, than a most dreadful fire broke
out in the city, and raged as if it had commission to devour
everything that was in its way. On the second of September, 1666, this
dismal fire broke out at a baker's shop in Pudding-lane by
Fish-street, in the lower part of the city, near Thames-street, (among
rotten wooden houses ready to take fire, and full of combustible
goods) in Billingsgate-ward; which ward in a few hours was laid in
ashes. It began in the dead of the night, and the darkness very much
increased the confusion and horror of the surprising calamity: when it
had made havoc of some houses, it rushed down the hill towards the
bridge; crossed Thames-street, invaded St. Magnus church at the bridge
foot, and though that church was so great, yet it was not a sufficient
barricado against this merciless conqueror; but having scaled and
taken this fort, it shot flames with so much the greater advantage
into all places round about, and a great building of houses upon the
bridge is quickly thrown down to the ground; there, being stayed in
its course at the bridge, the fire marched back through the city
again, and ran along, with great noise and violence, through
Thames-street, westward, where, having such combustible matter to feed
on, and such a fierce wind upon its back, it prevailed with little
resistance, unto the astonishment of the beholders. The fire is soon
taken notice of, though in the midst of the night: _Fire! Fire! Fire!_
doth resound through the streets; many start out of their sleep, look
out of their windows; some dress themselves, and run to the place. The
citizens affrighted and amazed, delayed the use of timely remedies;
and what added to the misfortune, was, the people neglecting their
houses, and being so fatally set on the hasty removing of their goods,
which were, notwithstanding, devoured by the nimble increase of the
flames. A raging east wind fomented it to an incredible degree, and in
a moment raised the fire from the bottoms to the tops of the houses,
and scattered prodigious flakes in all places, which were mounted so
vastly high in the air, as if heaven and earth were threatened with
the same conflagration. The fury soon became insuperable against the
arts of men and power of engines; and beside the dismal scenes of
flames, ruin and desolation, there appeared the most killing sight in
the distracted looks of the citizens, the wailings of miserable women,
the cries of poor children, and decripid old people; with all the
marks of confusion and despair. No man that had the sense of human
miseries could unconcernedly behold the dismal ravage and destruction
made in one of the noblest cities in the world.
The lord mayor of the city comes with his officers; what a confusion
there is!--counsel is taken away; and London, so famous for wisdom and
dexterity, can now find neither brains nor hands to prevent its ruin:
the decree was gone forth, London must now fall: and who can prevent
it? No wonder, when so many pillars are removed, the building tumbles.
The fire gets the mastery, and burns dreadfully, by the force of the
wind; it spreads quickly; and goes on with such force and rage,
overturning all so furiously, that the whole city is brought into
jeopardy and desolation.
----Fire commission'd by the winds,
Begins on sheds, but, rolling in a round,
On palaces returns.
DRYDEN.
That night most of the Londoners had taken their last sleep in their
houses; they little thought it would be so when they went into their
beds: they did not in the least expect, that when the doors of their
ears were unlocked, and the casements of their eyes were opened in the
morning, to hear of such an enemy invading the city, and that they
should see him with such fury enter the doors of their houses, break
into every room, and look out at their windows with such a threatening
countenance.
That which made the ruin more dismal was, that it began on the Lord's
Day morning; never was there the like Sabbath in London; some churches
were in flames that day; God seemed to come down and preach himself in
them, as he did in Sinai when the mount burned with fire; such warm
preaching those churches never had: in other churches ministers were
preaching their farewell sermons; and people were hearing with quaking
and astonishment: instead of a holy rest which Christians had taken
that day, there was a tumultuous hurrying about the streets towards
the place that burned, and more tumultuous hurrying upon the spirits
of those that sat still, and had only the notice of the ear, of the
strange and quick spreading of the fire.
Now the trained bands are up in arms, watching at every quarter for
outlandishmen, because of the general fears and rumours that
fire-balls were thrown into houses by several of them, to help on and
provoke the too furious flames. Now goods are moved hastily from the
lower parts of the city, and the body of the people begins to retire
and draw upward. Yet some hopes were retained on the Sunday that the
fire would be extinguished, especially by those who lived in remote
parts; they could scarce imagine that the fire a mile off could reach
their houses. All means to stop it proved ineffectual; the wind was so
high, that flakes of fire and burning matter were carried across
several streets, and spread the conflagration everywhere.
But the evening draws on, and now the fire is more visible and
dreadful; instead of the black curtains of the night which used to
spread over the city, now the curtains are yellow; the smoke that
arose from the burning part seemed like so much flame in the night,
which being blown upon the other parts by the wind, the whole city, at
some distance, seemed to be on fire. Now hopes begin to sink, and a
general consternation seizeth upon the spirits of the people: little
sleep is taken in London this night; some are at work to quench the
fire, others endeavour to stop its course, by pulling down houses; but
all to no purpose; if it be a little allayed, or put to a stand, in
some places, it quickly recruits, and recovers its force: it leaps,
and mounts, and makes the more furious onset, drives back all
opposers, snatches the weapons out of their hands, seizes upon the
water-houses and engines, and makes them unfit for service. Some are
upon their knees in the night, pouring out tears before the Lord,
interceding for poor London in the day of its calamity; yet none can
prevail to reverse that doom, which is gone forth against the city,
the fire hath received its commission, and all attempts to hinder it
are in vain.
Sunday night the fire had got as far as Garlick-hithe in
Thames-street, and had crept up into Cannon-street, and levelled it
with the ground, and still is making forward by the waterside, and
upward to the brow of the hill on which the city was built.
On Monday, Gracechurch-street is all in flames, with Lombard street on
the left, and part of Fenchurch-street on the right, the fire working
(though not so fast) against the wind that way: before it, were
pleasant and stately houses; behind it, ruinous and desolate heaps.
The burning then was in fashion of a bow; a dreadful bow it was! such
as few eyes had ever seen before!
Now the flames break in upon Cornhill, that large and spacious street,
and quickly cross the way by the train of wood that lay in the streets
untaken away, which had been pulled down from houses to prevent its
spreading, and so they lick the whole streets as they go; they mount
up to the tops of the highest houses, they descend down to the bottom
of the lowest cellars; they march along both sides of the way, with
such a roaring noise as never was heard in the city of London; no
stately buildings so great as to resist their fury: the Royal Exchange
itself, the glory of the merchants, is now invaded, and when once the
fire was entered, how quickly did it run through the galleries,
filling them with flames; then descending the stairs, compasseth the
walks, giveth forth flaming vollies, and filleth the court with fire:
by and bye down fall all the kings upon their faces, and the greatest
part of the building upon them, (the founder's statue only remaining)
with such a noise as was dreadful and astonishing.
September the third, the Exchange was burnt, and in three days almost
all the city within the walls: the people having none to conduct them
right, could do nothing to resist it, but stand and see their houses
burn without remedy; the engines being presently out of order and
useless!
Then! then! the city did shake indeed! and the inhabitants did
tremble! they flew away in great amazement from their houses, lest the
flames should devour them. Rattle! rattle! rattle! was the noise which
the fire struck upon the ear round about, as if there had been a
thousand iron chariots beating upon the stones; and if you turned your
eyes to the opening of the streets where the fire was come, you might
see in some places whole streets at once in flames, that issued forth
as if they had been so many forges from the opposite windows, and
which folding together united into one great volume throughout the
whole street; and then you might see the houses tumble, tumble,
tumble, from one end of the street to the other, with a great crash!
leaving the foundations open to the view of the heavens.
Now fearfulness and terror doth surprise all the citizens of London;
men were in a miserable hurry, full of distraction and confusions;
they had not the command of their own thoughts, to reflect and enquire
what was fit and proper to be done. It would have grieved the heart of
an unconcerned person, to see the rueful looks, the pale cheeks, the
tears trickling down from the eyes (where the greatness of sorrow and
amazement could give leave for such a vent) the smiting of the breast,
the wringing of the hands; to hear the sighs and groans, the doleful
and weeping speeches of the distressed citizens, when they were
bringing forth their wives (some from their child-bed) and their
little ones (some from their sick beds) out of their houses, and
sending them into the fields, with their goods.--Now the hope of
London is gone; their heart is sunk: Now there is a general remove in
the city, and that in a greater hurry than before the plague; their
goods being in greater danger by the fire, than their persons were by
the pestilence. Scarcely are some returned, but they must remove
again; and not as before; now, without any more hopes of ever
returning and living in those houses any more. The streets were
crowded with people and carts, to carry what goods they could get out;
they who were most active and had most money to pay carriage at
exorbitant prices, saved much, the rest lost almost all. Carts, drays,
coaches, and horses, as many as could have entrance into the city were
laden, and any money is given for help; five, ten, twenty, thirty
pounds for a cart, to bear forth to the fields some choice things
which were ready to be consumed; and some of the countrymen had the
conscience to accept the prices which the citizens did offer in their
extremity. Now casks of wine and oil, and other commodities, tumbled
along, and the owners shove as much as they can toward the gates:
every one became a porter to himself and scarcely a back, either of
man or woman, but had a burden on it in the streets. It was very
melancholy to see such throngs of poor citizens coming in and going
forth from the unburnt parts, heavy loaden, with pieces of their
goods, but more heavy loaden with grief and sorrow of heart; so that
it is wonderful they did not quite sink down under their burdens.
Monday night was a dreadful night! When the wings of the night had
shadowed the light of the heavenly bodies, there was no darkness of
night in London, for the fire shines now about with a fearful blaze,
which yielded such light in the streets as it had been the sun at
noon-day. The fire having wrought backward strangely against the wind
to Billingsgate, &c., along Thames-street, eastward, runs up the hill
to Tower-street; and having marched on from Gracechurch-street, maketh
farther progress in Fenchurch-street; and having spread its rage
beyond Queen-hithe in Thames-street, westward, mounts up from the
waterside through Dowgate and Old Fish-street into Watling-street; but
the great fury was in the broader streets; in the midst of the night
it came into Cornhill, and laid it in the dust, and running along by
the Stocks, there meets with another fire which came down
Threadneedle-street, a little farther with another which came up
Walbrook; a little farther with another which comes up Bucklersbury;
and all these four meeting together, break into one of the corners of
Cheapside, with such a dazzling glare, burning heat, and roaring
noise, by the falling of so many houses together, that was very
amazing! and though it was somewhat stopped in its swift course at
Mercer's chapel, yet with great force, in a while it burns through it,
and then with great rage proceedeth forward in Cheapside.
On Tuesday, was the fire burning up the very bowels of London;
Cheapside is all in a light fire in a few hours' time; many fires
meeting there as in centre; from a Soper-lane, Bow-lane, Bread-street,
Friday-street, and Old Change, the fire comes up almost together, and
breaks furiously into the broad street, and most of that side the way
was together in flames: a dreadful spectacle! and then, partly by the
fire which came down from Mercer's chapel, partly by the fall of the
houses cross the way, the other side is quickly kindled, and doth not
stand long after it.
Now the fire gets into Blackfriars, and so continues its course by the
water, and makes up toward St. Paul's church on that side, and
Cheapside fire besets the great building on this side; and the church,
though all of stone outward, though naked of houses about it, and
though so high above all buildings in the city, yet within awhile doth
yield to the violent assaults of the all-conquering flames, and
strangely takes fire at the top: now the lead melts and runs down, as
if it had been snow before the sun; and the great beams and massy
stones, with a hideous noise, fell on the pavement, and break through
into Faith church underneath; and great flakes of stone scale and peel
off strangely from the side of the walls: the conqueror having got
this high fort, darts its flames round about; now Paternoster-row,
Newgate-street, the Old Bailey, and Ludgate-hill, have submitted
themselves to the devouring fire, which, with wonderful speed rush
down the hill, into Fleet-street. Now Cheapside, fire marcheth along
Ironmonger-lane, Old-jury, Laurence-lane, Milk-street, Wood-street,
Gutter-lane, Foster-lane; now it comes along Lothbury, Cateaton-street,
&c. From Newgate-street it assaults Christ church, conquers that great
building, and burns through St. Martins-le-grand toward Aldersgate;
and all so furiously as it would not leave a house standing.
Terrible flakes of fire mount up to the sky, and the yellow smoke of
London ascendeth up towards heaven like the smoke of a great furnace;
a smoke so great as darkeneth the sun at noon-day; if at any time the
sun peeped forth it looked red like blood: the cloud of smoke was so
great, that travellers did ride at noon-day some miles together in the
shadow thereof, though there were no other clouds beside to be seen in
the sky.
If Monday night was dreadful, Tuesday night was much more so, when far
the greatest part of the city was consumed: many thousands, who, on
Saturday had houses convenient in the city, both for themselves and to
entertain others, have not where to lay their heads; and the fields
are the only receptacle they can find for themselves and their few
remaining goods: most of the late inhabitants lie all night in the
open air, with no other canopy over them but that of the heavens. The
fire is still making toward them, and threatening the suburbs. It was
amazing to see how it had spread itself several miles in compass:
among other things that night, the sight of Guildhall was a fearful
spectacle, which stood the whole body of it together in view, for
several hours after the fire had taken it, without flames (possibly
because the timber was such solid oak) in a bright shining coal, as if
it had been a palace of gold, or a great building of burnished brass.
On Wednesday morning, when people expected the suburbs would be burnt
as well as the city, and with speed were preparing their flight, as
well as they could with their luggage, into the countries and
neighbouring villages; then the Lord had pity upon poor London: the
wind is hushed; the commission of the fire is withdrawing, and it
burns so gently, even when it meets with no opposition, that it was
not hard to be quenched, in many places, with a few hands; an angel
came which had power over fire.[1] The citizens began to gather a
little heart and encouragement in their endeavours to quench the fire.
A check it had in Leadenhall by that great building: it had a stop in
Bishopsgate-street, Fenchurch-street, Lime-street, Mark-lane, and
toward the Tower; one means (under God) was the blowing up houses with
gunpowder. It is stayed in Lothbury, Broad-street, and Coleman-street;
toward the gates it burnt, but not with any great violence; at the
Temple also it staid, and in Holborn, where it had got no great
footing; and when once the fire was got under, it was kept under: and
on Thursday, the flames were extinguished.
[Footnote 1: Rev. xiv. 18.]
Few could take much sleep for divers nights together, when the fire
was burning in the streets, and burning down the houses, lest their
persons should have been consumed with their substance and
habitations. But on Wednesday night, when the people, late of London,
now of the fields, hoped to get a little rest on the ground where they
had spread their beds, a more dreadful fear falls upon them than they
had before, through a rumour that the French were coming armed against
them to cut their throats, and spoil them of what they had saved out
of the fire: they were now naked, weak, and in ill condition to defend
themselves; and the hearts, especially of the females, do quake and
tremble, and are ready to die within them; yet many citizens having
lost their houses, and almost all they had, are fired with rage and
fury; and they began to stir up themselves like lions, or bears
bereaved of their whelps. Now, arm! arm! arm! doth resound through the
fields and suburbs with a great noise. We may guess the distress and
perplexity of the people this night; but it was somewhat alleviated
when the falseness of the alarm was discovered.
Thus fell great London, that ancient and populous city! London! which
was the queen city of the land; and as famous as most cities in the
world! and yet how is London departed like smoke, and her glory laid
in the dust! How is her destruction come, which no man thought of, and
her desolation in a moment! How do the nations about gaze and wonder!
How doth the whole land tremble at her fall! How do her citizens droop
and hang down their heads, her women and virgins weep, and sit in the
dust! Oh! the paleness that now sits upon the cheeks! the astonishment
and confusion that covers the face, the dismal apprehensions that
arise in the minds of most, concerning the dreadful consequences which
are likely to be of this fall of London! How is the pride of London
stained, her beauty spoiled; her arm broken, and her strength
departed! her riches almost gone, and her treasures so much
consumed!--every one is sensible of the stroke. Never was England in
greater danger of being made a prey to a foreign power, than after
the firing and fall of the city, which had the strength and treasure
of the nation in it. How is London ceased, that rich, that joyous
city! One corner, indeed, is left; but more than as many houses as
were within the walls, are turned into ashes.
The merchants now have left the Royal Exchange; the buyers and sellers
have now forsaken the streets: Gracechurch-street, Cornhill,
Cheapside, Newgate-market, and the like places, which used to have
throngs of traffickers, now are become empty of inhabitants; and
instead of the stately houses which stood there last summer, they lie
this winter in ruinous heaps. The glory of London is fled away like a
bird; the trade of London is shattered and broken to pieces: her
delights also are vanished, and pleasant things laid waste: now there
is no chanting to the sound of the viol, nor dancing to the sweet
music of instruments; no drinking wine in bowls, and stretching upon
beds of lust; no excess of wine and banqueting; no feasts in halls; no
amorous looks and wanton dalliances; no rustling silks and costly
dresses; these things at that place are at an end. The houses for
God's worship (which formerly were bulwarks against fire, partly
through the walls about them, partly through the fervent prayers
within them) now are devoured by the flames; the habitations of many
who truly feared God have not escaped: the fire makes no
discrimination between the houses of the godly and the houses of the
ungodly; they are all made of the same combustible matter, and are
kindled, as bodies are infected, by one another.
London was laid in ashes, and made a ruinous heap: it was a byword and
a proverb, a gazing stock and an hissing and astonishment to all that
passed by; it caused the ears of all to tingle that heard the rumour
and report of what the righteous hand of God had brought upon her. A
mighty city turned into ashes and rubbish, comparatively in a few
hours; made a place fit for Zim and Okim to take up their abode in;
the merciless element where it raged scarcely leaving a lintel for a
cormorant or bittern to lodge in, or the remainder of a scorched
window to sing in. A sad and terrible face was there in the ruinous
parts of London: in the places where God had been served, nettles
growing, owls screeching, thieves and cut-throats lurking. The voice
of the Lord hath been crying, yea, roaring, in the city, of the
dreadful judgments of plague and fire.
There was suddenly and unexpectedly seen, a glorious city laid waste;
the habitations turned into rubbish; estates destroyed; the produce
and incomes of many years hard labour and careful industry all in a
few moments swept away and consumed by devouring flames.--To have seen
dear relations, faithful servants, even yourselves and families,
reduced from plentiful, affluent, comfortable trade and fortune,
over-night, to the extremest misery next morning! without an house to
shelter, goods to accommodate, or settled course of trade to support.
Many forced, in old age, to begin the world anew; and exposed to all
the hardships and inconveniences of want and poverty.
Should not my countenance be sad, when the city, the place of my
father's sepulchre, lieth waste, and the gates thereof are consumed
with fire?
While the terrors occasioned by the conflagration remained in the
minds of men, many eminent, learned, pious divines of the Church of
England were more than ordinary diligent in the discharge of their
holy function in this calamitous time; and many ministers who had not
conformed, preached in the midst of the burning ruins, to a willing
and attentive people: conventicles abounded in every part; it was
thought hard to hinder men from worshipping God in any way they would,
when there were no churches, nor ministers to look after them.
Tabernacles, with all possible expedition, were everywhere raised for
public worship till churches could be built. Among the established
clergy were Dr. Tillotson, Dr. Stillingfleet, Dr. Whitcot, Dr. Horton,
Dr. Patrick, Mr. White, Dr. Outram, Mr. Giffard, Mr. Nest, Mr.
Meriton, and many others: divines of equal merit and moderation,
ornaments of their sacred profession and the Established Church. Among
the Presbyterians were Dr. Manton, Mr. Thomas Vincent, Mr. Wadsworth,
Mr. Janeway, Mr. Thomas Doolittle, Mr. Annesley, Mr. Chester, Mr.
Franklin, Mr. Grimes, Mr. Watson, Dr. Jacomb, Mr. Nathaniel Vincent,
Mr. Turner, Mr. Griffiths, Mr. Brooks, Dr. Owen, Mr. Nye, Mr. Caryl,
Dr. Goodwin, and Mr. Barker.
The loss in goods and houses is scarcely to be valued, or even
conceived. The loss of books was an exceeding great detriment, not to
the owners only, but to learning in general. The library at
Sion-college, and most private libraries in London, were burnt.
The fire of London most of all endamaged the Company of Printers and
Stationers, most of whose habitations, storehouses, shops, stocks, and
books, were not only consumed, but their ashes and scorched leaves
conveyed aloft, and dispersed by the winds to places above sixteen
miles distant, to the great admiration of beholders!
Notwithstanding the great losses by the fire, the devouring pestilence
in the city the year preceding, and the chargeable war with the Dutch
at that time depending, yet by the king's grace, the wisdom of the
Parliament then sitting at Westminster, the diligence and activity of
the lord mayor, aldermen, and commoners of the city, (who were
likewise themselves the most considerable losers by the fatal
accident) it was in the space of four or five years well nigh rebuilt.
Divers churches, the stately Guildhall, many halls of companies, and
other public edifices; all infinitely more uniform, more solid, and
more magnificent than before; so that no city in Europe (scarcely in
the universe) can stand in competition with it in many particulars.[2]
[Footnote 2: Seymour's Survey, i. 70.]
The fire of London ending at the east end of Tower-street, the extent
of which came just to the dock on the west side of the Tower, there
was nothing between the Tower-walls and it but the breadth of the
dock, and a great many old timber houses which were built upon the
banks of the dock, and in the outward bulwark of the Tower and
Tower-ditch (which then was very foul) to the very wall of the Tower
itself. Which old houses, if the fire had taken hold of, the Tower
itself, and all the buildings within it, had in all probability been
destroyed. But such was the lieutenant's care of the great charge
committed to him, that to prevent future damage, a few weeks after, he
caused all these old houses which stood between the Tower-dock and the
Tower-wall, to be pulled down: and not only them, but all those which
were built upon or near the Tower-ditch, from the bulwark-gate along
both the Tower-hills, and so to the Iron-gate; and caused strong rails
of oak to be set up upon the wharf where those houses stood which were
about four hundred: so that by these means, not only the White-tower
but the whole outward Tower-wall and the ditch round about the same,
are all visible to passengers, and afford a very fine prospect.
During the whole continuance of this unparalleled calamity, the king
himself, roused from his pleasures, commiserated the care of the
distressed, and acted like a true father of his people. In a
manuscript from the secretary's office, we find these words, "All own
the immediate hand of God, and bless the goodness and tender care of
the king, who made the round of the fire usually twice every day, and,
for many hours together, on horseback and on foot; gave orders for
pursuing the work, by commands, threatenings, desires, example, and
good store of money, which he himself distributed to the workers, out
of an hundred pound bag which he carried with him for that purpose."
At the same time, his royal highness, the Duke of York also, and many
of the nobility, were as diligent as possible; they commended and
encouraged the forward, assisted the miserable sufferers, and gave a
most generous example to all, by the vigorous opposition they made
against the devouring flames.
The king and the duke, with the guards, were almost all the day on
horseback, seeing to all that could be done, either for quenching the
fire, or for carrying off persons or goods to the fields. The king was
never observed to be so much struck with anything in his whole life.
In the dreadful fire of London, the king and the duke did their utmost
in person to extinguish it; and after it had been once mastered, and
broke out again in the Temple, the duke watching there all night, put
an effectual stop to it by blowing up houses.
Afterward, when the multitudes of poor people were forced to lodge in
the fields, or crowd themselves into poor huts and booths built with
deal boards, his majesty was frequent in consulting all ways to
relieve these wretches, as well by proclamations, as by his orders to
the justices of the peace, to send provisions into Moorfields and
other places; and moreover he sent them out of the Tower the warlike
provisions which were there deposited for the seamen and soldiers, to
keep them from starving in this extremity.
At the same time he proclaimed a fast throughout England and Wales;
and ordered that the distressed condition of the sufferers should be
recommended to the charity of all well-disposed persons, upon that
day, to be afterwards distributed by the hands of the lord mayor of
London. Lastly, to shew his special care for the city's restoration,
in council, wherein he first prohibited the hasty building any houses
till care should be taken for its re-edification, so as might best
secure it from the like fatal accident; for the encouragement of
others, he promised to rebuild his Custom-house, and to enlarge it,
for the benefit of the merchants and trade; which he performed at his
own particular charge, and at the expense of ten thousand pounds.
At the news of the fire of London all the good subjects of Ireland
were seized with the utmost consternation upon that deplorable
accident in compassion to the sufferers, the lord-lieutenant (the Duke
of Ormond) set on foot a subscription for their relief, which rose to
a higher value than could be expected in so distressed a country,
where there was not money to circulate for the common necessities of
the people, or to pay the public taxes: therefore, the subscription
was made in beeves, thirty thousand of which were sent to London.[3]
[Footnote 3: Carte Ormd. i. 329.]
* * * * *
_Extract from the Speech of Sir Edward Turner, Speaker of the
Honourable House of Commons, at the Prorogation of the Parliament,
February, 8, 1667._
We must for ever with humility acknowledge the justice of God in
punishing the whole nation in the late conflagration in London. We
know they were not the greatest sinners on whom the tower of Siloam
fell; and doubtless all our sins did contribute to the filling up that
measure, which being full, drew down the wrath of God upon our city;
but it very much reviveth us to behold the miraculous blessing of God
upon your Majesty's endeavours for the preservation of that part of
the city which is left. We hope God will direct your royal heart, and
this fortunate island, in a few days to lay a foundation-stone in the
rebuilding of that royal city; the beauty and praise whereof shall
fill the whole earth. For the encouragement of this noble work we have
prepared several bills; one for the establishing a judicatory for the
speedy determining all actions and causes of action that may arise
between landlords and tenants upon this sad accident. Though I
persuade myself no Englishman would be exempted from making some
offering to carry on the pious undertaking, yet the exemplary charity
of your majesty's twelve reverend judges is fit with honour to be
mentioned before your majesty: they are willing to spend all their
sand that doth not run out in your majesty's immediate service, in
dispensing justice in their several courts to your people, in hearing
and determining the controversies that may arise upon old agreements,
and making new rules between owners and tenants, for their mutual
agreement in this glorious action. We have likewise prepared a bill
for the regularity of the new buildings, that they may be raised with
more conveniency, beauty, and security than they had before: some
streets we have ordered to be opened and enlarged, and many
obstructions to be removed; but all with your majesty's approbation.
This, we conceive, cannot be done with justice, unless a compensation
be given to those that shall be losers; we have, therefore laid an
imposition of twelve pence upon every chaldron, and every ton of coals
that shall be brought into the port of London for ten years, the
better to enable the Lord Mayor and aldermen to recompense those
persons whose ground shall be taken from them.
Rome was not built in a day: nor can we in the close of this session
finish the rules for the dividing the parishes, rebuilding of the
churches, and the ornamental parts of the city, that we intended;
these things must rest till another session: but we know your majesty
in the meantime will take them into your princely consideration, and
make it your care that the houses of God, and your royal chamber, be
decently and conveniently restored.
The fire of London had exercised the wits and inventions of many
heads, and especially put several ingenious persons on contriving and
setting up offices for insuring of houses from fire; since which many
of those offices are framed.
All persons were indefatigably industrious in the great work of
rebuilding; and when all provisions were made for the city's
resurrection, the famous Sir Jonas Moore first of all produced the
beautiful Fleet-street, according to the appointed model; and from
that beginning the city grew so hastily toward a general perfection,
that within the compass of a few years it far transcended its former
splendour.
In the meantime, Gresham College was converted into an exchange, and
in the apartments the public business of the city was transacted,
instead of Guildhall.
To the same place, Alderman Backwell, a noted banker, removed from
Lombard-street. Alderman Meynell, and divers other bankers of
Lombard-street were preserved in their estates, and settled in and
about Broad-street.
The Royal Society being driven out from Gresham College, Henry Howard,
brother to the Duke of Norfolk, late Earl Marshal of England, invited
that noble body to hold their meetings at Arundel House, where he
assigned them very convenient rooms, and, on New Year's day, being
himself a member of that society, he very generously presented them
and their successors with a fair library of books; being the whole
Norfolkian library, with permission of changing such books as were not
proper for their collection.
Sir Robert Viner, a very great banker, providentially removed all his
concerns twenty-four hours before the furious fire entered
Lombard-street, and settled in the African-house, which was then kept
near the middle of Broad-street, till such time as he built that noble
structure in Lombard-street, now used for the General Post Office,
which was purchased by King Charles the Second for that purpose. The
neatly wrought conduit in the Stocks market-place, at the west end of
Lombard-street (the spot on which the Lord Mayor's Mansion House is
since erected) whereon was placed a large statue of King Charles the
Second on horseback, trampling upon an enemy, was set up at the sole
cost and charges of that worthy citizen and alderman, Sir Robert
Viner, knight and baronet.[4]
[Footnote 4: Of this clumsy piece of sculpture we have the following
account from Maitland's Survey, page 1,049:--"It is impossible to quit
this place without taking notice of the equestrian statue raised here
in honour of Charles II.; a thing in itself so exceedingly ridiculous
and absurd, that it is in no one's power to look upon it without
reflecting on the tastes of those who set it up. But when we enquire
into the history of it, the farce improves upon our hands, and what
was before contemptible, grows entertaining. This statue was
originally made for John Sobieski, King of Poland, but, by some
accident was left upon the workman's hands. About the same time the
city was loyal enough to pay their devoirs to King Charles immediately
upon his restoration; and finding this statue ready made to their
hands, resolved to do it in the cheapest way, and convert the Polander
into a Briton, and the Turk underneath into Oliver Cromwell, to make
their compliment complete: and the turban upon the last mentioned
figure is an undeniable proof of the truth of the story."]
The excise office was kept in Southampton-fields, near Southampton
(now Bedford House.)
The General Post Office was moved to the Two Black Pillars, in
Bridges-street, Covent Garden.
The affairs of the Custom House were transacted in Mark-lane, at a
house called Lord Bayning's, till the Custom House was rebuilt in a
much more magnificent, uniform, and commodious manner, by King Charles
the Second, which cost him L10,000.
The office for hearth money was kept near Billeter-lane, in
Leadenhall-street.
The king's great wardrobe, together with the fair dwelling houses of
the master and officers, near Puddle Wharf, being consumed, that
office has since been kept in York House-buildings.
The buildings of Doctor's Commons, in the Parish of St. Bennet, Paul's
Wharf, near St. Paul's, being entirely consumed by the dreadful fire,
their offices were held at Exeter House, in the Strand, until the year
1672, when they returned to their former place, rebuilt in a very
splendid and convenient manner, at the proper cost and charges of the
said doctors.
The college of physicians had purchased a house and ground at the end
of Amen-street, whereon the famous Dr. Harvey, at his proper charge,
did erect a magnificent structure, both for a library, and a public
hall; this goodly edifice could not escape the fury of the dreadful
fire; and the ground being but a lease-hold, the fellows purchased a
fair piece of ground in Warwick-lane, whereon they have erected a very
magnificent edifice, with a noble apartment for the containing an
excellent library, given them partly by the Marquis of Dorchester, but
chiefly by that eminent professor, Sir Theodore Mayerne, knight.
The former burse (or Royal Exchange) began to be erected in the year
1566, just one hundred years before it was burnt, at the cost and
charge of that noble merchant, Sir Thomas Gresham. It was built of
brick, and yet was the most splendid burse then in Europe.
It is now rebuilt within and without, of excellent stone, with such
curious and admirable architecture, especially for a front, a high
turret or steeple, wherein are an harmonious chime of twelve bells,
and for arch-work, that it surpasses all other burses. It is built
quadrangular, with a large court wherein the merchants may assemble,
and the greatest part, in case of rain or hot sunshine, may be
sheltered in side galleries or porticos. The whole fabric cost fifty
thousand pounds, whereof one-half was disbursed by the Chamber of
London, or corporation of the city, and the other half by the Company
of Mercers.
Before the dreadful fire, there were all around the quadrangle of this
Royal Exchange the statues of the sovereign princes, since what was
called the Norman Conquest, and by the care and cost of the city
companies most of those niches were again filled with the like curious
statues, in marble or alabaster.
St. Paul's Cathedral was new building at the time of the fire, the
stone work almost finished; but, it is now rebuilt with greater
solidity, magnificence and splendour, by the most renowned architect,
Sir Christopher Wren.
Not far from the college of Doctor's Commons stood the College of
Heralds, in an ancient house called Derby House, being built by Thomas
Stanly, Earl of Derby, who married Margaret, Countess of Richmond,
mother of King Henry the Seventh, where their records were preserved.
This college was burnt down, but the books and records were preserved,
and placed, by the king's appointment, at the lower end of the Court
of Requests.
Since the late dreadful fire this college has been handsomely rebuilt,
upon St. Bennet's-hill, near Doctor's Commons, where their library is
now kept. The house of St. Bartholomew's Hospital escaped the fury of
the great fire, but most of the estates belonging to it were consumed.
The companies' halls were rebuilt, all at the charges of each
fraternity, with great magnificence; being so many noble structures or
palaces, with gallant frontispieces, stately courts, spacious rooms.
The halls, especially, from which the whole are named, are not only
ample enough to feast all the livery in each company, some to the
number of three or four hundred, but many of them are fit to receive a
crowned head with all its nobles--those of each of the twelve
companies especially. The Company of Mercers, beside their hall, have
a sumptuous and spacious chapel for divine service.
Those city gates which were burnt down, as Ludgate and Newgate, were
rebuilt with great solidity and magnificence.
The attempt to make Fleet brook or ditch navigable to Holborn Bridge,
was a mighty chargeable and beautiful work, and though it did not
fully answer the designed purpose, it was remarkable for the curious
stone bridges over it, and the many huge vaults on each side thereof,
to treasure up Newcastle coals for the use of the poor.
The whole damage sustained by the fire is almost inconceivable and
incredible; but the following method of computation hath been taken,
to form some sort of gross estimate; and at the time was accounted
very moderate:--
Thirteen thousand two hundred houses, one with }
another, at twenty-five pounds rent, at the low } 3,960,000
rate of twelve years' purchase }
Eighty-seven parish churches, at eight thousand } 696,000
pounds each[5] }
Six consecrated chapels, at two thousand } 12,000
pounds each }
The Royal Exchange 50,000
The Custom House 10,000
Fifty-two halls of companies, most of which were }
magnificent structures and palaces, at fifteen } 78,000
hundred pounds each }
Three city gates, at three thousand pounds each 9,000
Jail of Newgate 15,000
Four stone bridges 6,000
Sessions House 7,000
Guildhall, with the courts and offices belonging to it 40,000
Blackwell Hall 3,000
Bridewell 5,000
Poultry Compter 5,000
Wood Street Compter 3,000
Toward rebuilding St. Paul's Church, which, at }
that time, was new building; the stonework being } 2,000,000
almost finished }
Wares, household stuff, monies, and moveable goods } 2,000,000
lost and spoiled }
Hire of porters, carts, waggons, barges, boats, &c.,}
for removing wares, household stuff, &c., during } 200,000
the fire, and some small time after }
Printed books and papers in shops and warehouses 150,000
Wine, tobacco, sugar, plums, &c., of which the city } 1,500,000
was at that time very full }
Cutting a navigable river to Holborn Bridge 27,000
The Monument 14,500
__________
L10,730,500
[Footnote 5: The certificate says, eighty-nine parish Churches; but
see the Act of Parliament and inscription on the monument.]
Besides melioration money paid to several proprietors who had their
ground taken away, for the making of wharves, enlarging the old, or
making new streets, market places, &c.
The fire spread itself, beside breadth, from almost Tower-hill, to St.
Dunstan's church in Fleet-street. After it had burnt almost three days
and three nights, some seamen taught the people to blow up some of the
next houses with gunpowder; which stopped the fire: so that, contrary
to the inscription on the Monument, there were human counsels in the
stopping of the fire. It stopped at Holborn Bridge, at St. Sepulchre's
church, when the church was burnt, in Aldgate and Cripplegate, and
other places on the wall; in Austin Friars, the Dutch church stopped
it, and escaped. It stopped in Bishopsgate-street, in Leadenhall-street,
in the midst of Fenchurch-street, and near the Tower. Alderman
Jefferies lost tobacco to the value of twenty thousand pounds.
_Extract from the certificates of the Surveyors appointed to survey
the ruins._
The fire began September 2nd, 1666, at Mr. Farryner's, a baker, in
Pudding-lane, between one and two in the morning, and continued
burning till the 6th; did overrun three hundred and seventy-three
acres, within the walls. Eighty-nine parish churches, besides chapels
burnt. Eleven parishes, within the walls standing. Houses burnt,
thirteen thousand and two hundred.
JONAS MOORE, }
RALPH GATRIX, } Surveyors.
* * * * *
The superstition and zeal of those times made canonization much
cheaper in a Protestant than a Popish Church. A vehement preacher was
a chief saint among the godly, and a few warm expressions were
esteemed little less than prophecies.
In the dedication to the Rev. Mr. Reeves's sermon, preached 1655, are
the following queries:--
"Can sin and the city's safety, can impenitency and impunity stand
long together? Fear you not some plague? Some coal blown with the
breath of the Almighty, that may sparkle and kindle, and burn you to
such cinders, that not a wall or pillar may be left to testify the
rememberance of a city?"
The same gentleman says:[6] "Your looking-glasses will be snatched
away, your mirrors cracked, your diamonds shivered in pieces; this
goodly city all in shreds. Ye may seek for a pillar or threshold of
your ancient dwellings, but not find one. All your spacious mansions
and sumptuous monuments are then gone. Not a porch, pavement, ceiling,
staircase, turret, lantern, bench, screen, pane of a window, post,
nail, stone, or dust of your former houses to be seen. No, with
wringing hands you may ask, where are those sweet places where we
traded, feasted, slept? where we lived like masters, and shone like
morning stars? No, the houses are fallen, and the householders dropped
with them. We have nothing but naked streets, naked fields for
shelter; not so much as a chamber to couch down our children or
repose our own members, when we are spent or afflicted with sickness.
Woe unto us! our sins have pulled down our houses, shaken down our
city. We are the most harbourless people in the world; like foreigners
rather than natives; yea, rather like beasts than men. Foxes have
holes and fowls have nests, but we have neither holes or nests: our
sins have deprived us of couch and covert. We should be glad if an
hospital would receive us, dens or caves shelter us. The bleak air and
cold ground are our only shades and refuges. But, alas! this is but
the misery of the stonework, of arches, roofs, &c."
[Footnote 6: London's Remembrancer, page 33,--ten years before the
fire.]
The following paragraph is taken from Mr. Rosewell's causes and cures
of the pestilence, printed at London, in the year of the great plague
1665--a year before the fire of London.
"Is it not of the Lord that the people shall labour in the very fire,
and weary themselves for vanity? It is of the Lord, surely! It comes
to pass, by the secret counsel of God, that these houses and cities
which they build, shall either come to be consumed by fire; or else,
the people shall weary themselves in vain, for vanity to no purpose;
seeing it comes so soon to be destroyed and ruinated, what they
build."
SECTION II.
ACCOUNT OF THE FIRE OF LONDON, PUBLISHED BY AUTHORITY, FROM THE
"LONDON GAZETTE."
Sept. 2.--About two o'clock this morning, a sudden and lamentable fire
broke out in this city; beginning not far from Thames-street, near
London Bridge, which continues still with great violence, and hath
already burnt down to the ground many houses thereabouts: which said
accident affected his Majesty with that tenderness and compassion,
that he was pleased to go himself in person, with his royal highness,
to give orders that all possible means should be used for quenching
the fire, or stopping its further spreading: in which care the right
honourable the Earl of Craven was sent by his Majesty, to be more
particularly assisting to the Lord Mayor and magistrates; and several
companies of his guards sent into the city, to be helpful in what
means they could in so great a calamity.
Whitehall, Sept. 8.--The ordinary course of this paper being
interrupted by a sad and lamentable accident of fire, lately happened
in the city of London, it hath been thought fit to satisfy the minds
of so many of his Majesty's good subjects who must needs be concerned
for the issue of so great an accident, to give this short but true
account of it.
On the 2nd inst., at one o'clock in the morning, there happened to
break out a sad and deplorable fire in Pudding-lane, New Fish-street,
which falling out at that hour of the night and, in a quarter of the
town so close built with wooden pitched houses, spread itself so far
before day, and with such distraction to the inhabitants and
neighbours, that care was not taken for the timely preventing the
further diffusion of it, by pulling down houses, as ought to have
been; so that the lamentable fire in a short time became too big to be
mastered by any engines, or working near it. It fell out most
unhappily too, that a violent easterly wind fomented it, and kept it
burning all that day, and the night following, spreading itself up to
Gracechurch-street, and downward from Cannon-street to the water side,
as far as the Three Cranes in the Vintry.
The people in all parts about it were distracted by the vastness of
it, and their particular care was to carry away their goods. Many
attempts were made to prevent the spreading of it by pulling down
houses, and making great intervals; but all in vain, the fire seizing
upon the timber and rubbish, and so continuing itself, even through
those places, and raging in a bright flame all Monday and Tuesday,
notwithstanding his Majesty's own, and his royal highness's
indefatigable and personal pains to apply all possible means to
prevent it; calling upon and helping the people with their guards, and
a great number of nobility and gentry unweariedly assisting therein,
for which they were requited with a thousand blessings from the poor
distressed people. By the favour of God the wind slackened a little on
Tuesday night, and the flames meeting with brick buildings at the
Temple, by little and little it was observed to lose its force on that
side, so that on Wednesday morning we began to hope well, and his
royal highness never departing nor slackening his personal care,
wrought so well that day, assisted in some parts by the lords of the
council before and behind it, that a stop was put to it at the Temple
Church; near Holborn Bridge; Pye Corner; Aldersgate; Cripplegate; near
the lower end of Coleman-street; at the end of Basinghall-street;
by the Postern at the upper end of Bishopsgate-street; and
Leadenhall-street; at the Standard, in Cornhill; at the church in
Fenchurch-street; near Clothworkers' Hall in Mincing-lane; in the
middle of Mark-lane; and at the Tower-dock.
On Thursday, by the blessing of God, it was wholly beat down and
extinguished. But so as that evening it burst out afresh at the
Temple, by the falling of some sparks (as is supposed, upon a pile of
wooden buildings); but his royal highness, who watched there the whole
night in person, by the great labour and diligence used, and
especially by applying powder to blow up the houses about it, before
day, happily mastered it.
Divers strangers, Dutch and French, were, during the fire,
apprehended, upon suspicion that they contributed maliciously to it,
who are all imprisoned, and informations prepared to make severe
inquisition hereupon by my Lord Chief Justice Keeling, assisted by
some of the Lords of the privy council, and some principal members of
the city: notwithstanding which suspicions, the manner of the burning
all along in a train, and so blown forward in all its ways by strong
winds, makes us conclude the whole was an effect of an unhappy chance,
or to speak better, the heavy hand of God upon us, for our sins,
shewing us the terror of his judgment, in thus raising the fire, and
immediately after, his miraculous and never enough to be acknowledged
mercy, in putting a stop to it when we were in the last despair, and
that all attempts for the quenching it, however industriously pursued,
seemed insufficient. His Majesty then sat hourly in council, and ever
since hath continued making rounds about the city, in all parts of it
where the danger and mischief was greatest, till this morning that he
hath sent his Grace the Duke of Albemarle, whom he hath called for to
assist him in this great occasion: to put his happy and successful
hand to the finishing this memorable deliverance.
About the Tower, the seasonable orders given for pulling down houses
to secure the magazines of powder, was most especially successful,
that part being up the wind; notwithstanding which, it came almost to
the very gates of it, so as, by the early provision, the several
stores of war lodged in the Tower were entirely saved; and we have
hitherto this infinite cause particularly to give God thanks that the
fire did not happen in any of those places where his Majesty's naval
stores are kept; so as though it hath pleased God to visit us with his
own hand, he hath not, by disfurnishing us with the means of carrying
on the war, subjected us to our enemies.
It must be observed, that this fire happened at a part of the town,
where, though the commodities were not very rich, yet they were so
bulky that they could not be removed, so that the inhabitants of that
part where it first began, have sustained very great loss; but, by the
best inquiry we can make, the other parts of the town, where the
commodities were of greater value, took the alarm so early, that they
saved most of their goods of value, which possibly may have diminished
the loss; though some think, that if the whole industry of the
inhabitants had been applied to the stopping of the fire, and not to
the saving their particular goods, the success might have been much
better; not only to the public, but to many of them in their own
particulars.
Through this sad accident it is easy to be imagined how many persons
were necessitated to remove themselves and goods into the open fields,
where they were forced to continue some time, which could not but work
compassion in the beholders; but his Majesty's care was most signal on
this occasion, who, besides his personal pains, was frequent in
consulting all ways for relieving those distressed persons, which
produced so good effect, as well by his Majesty's proclamations and
orders issued to the neighbouring justices of the peace, to encourage
the sending provisions into the markets, which are publicly known, as
by other directions, that when his Majesty, fearing lest other orders
might not yet have been sufficient, had commanded the victualler of
his navy to send bread into Moorfields for the relief of the poor,
which, for the more speedy supply, he sent in biscuit out of the sea
stores; it was found that the market had been already so well supplied
that the people, being unaccustomed to that kind of bread, declined
it, and so it was returned in great part to his Majesty's stores
again, without any use made of it.
And we cannot but observe, to the confusion of all his Majesty's
enemies, who endeavoured to persuade the world abroad of great parties
and disaffection at home, against his Majesty's government, that a
greater instance of the affections of this city could never be given,
than hath now been given in this sad and most deplorable accident,
when, if at any time, disorder might have been expected, from the
losses, distractions, and almost desperation of some persons in their
private fortunes--thousands of people not having habitations to cover
them. And yet all this time it hath been so far from any appearance of
designs or attempts against his Majesty's government, that his Majesty
and his royal brother, out of their care to stop and prevent the fire,
exposing frequently their persons, with very small attendants, in all
parts of the town, sometimes even to be intermixed with those who
laboured in the business; yet, nevertheless, there hath not been
observed so much as a murmuring word to fall from any; but, on the
contrary, even those persons whose losses render their conditions most
desperate, and to be fit objects of others' prayers, beholding those
frequent instances of his Majesty's care of his people, forgot their
own misery, and filled the streets with their prayers for his Majesty,
whose trouble they seemed to compassionate before their own.
Whitehall, Sept. 12.--His Majesty, in a religious sense of God's heavy
hand upon this kingdom, in the late dreadful fire happened in the city
of London, hath been pleased to order that the tenth of October next,
be observed as a general and solemn fast throughout England, Wales,
&c.; and that the distresses of those who have more particularly
suffered in that calamity be on that day most effectually recommended
to the charity of all well-disposed Christians, in the respective
churches and chapels of this kingdom, to be afterward, by the hands of
the Lord Mayor of the city of London, distributed for the relief of
such as shall be found most to need it.
Whitehall, Sept. 15.--His Majesty pursuing, with a gracious
impatience, his pious care for the speedy restoration of his city of
London, was pleased to pass, the twelfth instant, his declaration, in
council to his city of London upon that subject, full of that princely
tenderness and affection which he is pleased on all occasions to
express for that, his beloved city.
In the first place, upon the desires of the lord mayor and court of
aldermen, he is pleased to prohibit the hasty building of any edifice,
till such speedy care be taken for the re-edification of the city as
may best secure it from the like accidents, and raise it to a greater
beauty and comeliness than formerly it had; the lord mayor and
aldermen being required to pull down what shall, contrary to this
prohibition be erected, and return the names of such refractory
persons to his Majesty and his council, to be proceeded against
according to their deserts.
That any considerable number of men addressing themselves to the court
of aldermen, and manifesting in what places their ground lies upon
which they intend to build, shall in short time receive such order and
direction that they shall have no cause to complain.
That no person erect any house or building, but of brick or stone,
that they be encouraged to practise the good husbandry of strongly
arching their cellars, by which divers persons have received notable
benefit in the late fire.
That Fleet-street, Cheapside, Cornhill, and all other eminent streets,
be of a breadth to prevent the mischief one side may receive from the
other by fire; that no streets, especially near the water be so narrow
as to make the passages uneasy or inconvenient; nor any allies or
lanes erected, but upon necessity, for which there shall be published
rules and particular orders.
That a fair quay and wharf be left on all the river side, no houses to
be erected, but at a distance declared by the rules. That none of
those houses next the river be inhabited by brewers, dyers, or
sugar-bakers, who by their continual smokes contribute much to the
unhealthiness of the adjacent places; but that such places be allotted
them by the lord mayor and court of aldermen, as may be convenient for
them, without prejudice of the neighbourhood.
That the lord mayor and court of aldermen cause an exact survey to be
made of the ruins, that it may appear to whom the houses and ground
did belong, what term the occupiers were possessed of, what rents were
paid, and to whom the reversions and inheritances did appertain, for
the satisfying all interests, that no man's right be sacrificed to the
public convenience. After which a plot and model shall be framed of
the whole building, which no doubt may so well please all persons, as
to induce them willingly to conform to such rules and orders as shall
be agreed to.
His majesty likewise recommends the speedy building some of those many
churches which have been burnt, to the charity and magnanimity of
well-disposed persons, whom he will direct and assist in the model,
and by his bounty encourage all other ways that shall be desired.
And to encourage the work by his example, his majesty will use all
expedition to rebuild the Custom House, and enlarge it for the more
convenience of the merchants, in the place where it formerly stood:
and upon all his own lands, will part with any thing of his own right
and benefit, for the advancement of the public benefit and beauty of
the city; and remit to all persons who shall erect any new buildings,
according to this his gracious declaration, all duties arising from
hearth-money for the space of seven years; as by the declaration
itself more at large appears.
Whitehall, Sep. 18. This day was presented to his Majesty, by his
highness the Duke of York, Edmundbury Godfrey, Esq.; one of his
Majesty's justices of the peace for the county of Middlesex, and city
and liberty of Westminster, who, after the public thanks and
acknowledgment of his eminent services done in helping to suppress the
late fire in the city and liberty of London, received the honour of
knighthood.
Whitehall, Sep. 29. This day, by warrant from his Majesty's principal
secretaries of state, the person of Valentine Knight was committed to
the custody of one of his Majesty's messengers in ordinary, for having
presumed to publish in print certain propositions for rebuilding the
city of London, with considerable advantages to his Majesty's revenue
by it, as if his Majesty would draw a benefit to himself from so
public a calamity of his people of which his Majesty is known to have
so deep sense, that he is pleased to seek rather by all means to give
them ease under it.
Westminster, Sep. 28. This day the House of Commons resolved, that the
humble thanks of the house should be given his Majesty for his great
care and endeavour to prevent the burning of the city.
Leghorn, Oct. 18. The merchants here, in consideration of the losses
sustained in London, by the late fire, have out of their charity,
raised near 300_l._ towards their relief, which they intend speedily
to return, to be distributed as his Majesty pleases.
London, Oct. 29. This day Sir William Bolton, lord mayor for the year
ensuing, went in his coach to Westminster, attended by his brethren
the aldermen, the sheriffs, and other eminent citizens in their
coaches, where he was sworn with the usual ceremonies.
Whitehall, Oct. 30. Sir Jonas Moore, with some other proprietors of
houses lately demolished by the fire, in Fleet-street, having prayed
liberty to rebuild the same, according to such model, form and
scantling as should be set them by the committee appointed by his
Majesty for the advancement of that great work, (to which they offered
with all willingness to submit and conform themselves); it was this
day ordered by his Majesty in council, that the said proprietors shall
have their liberty to re-edify their buildings accordingly.
By Stat. 19 and 20 Car. 2, any three or more of the judges were
authorised to hear and determine all differences between landlords and
tenants, or occupiers of buildings or other things by the fire
demolished. They were, without the formalities of courts of law or
equity, upon the inquisition or verdict of jurors, testimonies of
witnesses upon oath, examination of persons interested, or otherwise,
to determine all differences: they were, in complaints, to issue out
notes of time and place for the parties' attendance, and proceed to
make orders: their determinations were final, without appeal, writ of
error, or reversal. Their orders were to be obeyed by all persons, and
binding to representatives for ever. The judgments and determinations
were recorded in a book by them signed: which book is placed and
intrusted in the custody of the lord mayor and aldermen for the time
being, to remain as a perpetual and lasting record. The judges were
not to take any fee or reward, directly or indirectly, for any thing
they did by virtue of that act. All differences not being determined,
the act was continued in force till Sept. 29, 1672.
In gratitude to the memory of these judges, the city caused their
pictures, in full proportion in their scarlet robes, to be set up in
the Guildhall, with their names underneath, viz.
Sir Heneage Finch,
Sir Orlando Bridgman,
Sir Matthew Hale,
Sir Richard Rainsford,
Sir Edward Turner,
Sir Thomas Tyrril,
Sir John Archer,
Sir William Morton,
Sir Robert Atkins,
Sir Samuel Brown,
Sir Edward Atkins,
Sir John Vaughan,
Sir John North,
Sir Thomas Twisden,
Sir Christopher Turner,
Sir William Wyld,
Sir Hugh Windham,
Sir William Ellys,
Sir Edward Thurland,
Sir Timothy Lyttleton,
Sir John Kelynge,
Sir William Windham.
The city rose out of its ashes after the dreadful fire, as it was
first built, not presently, by building continued streets, in any one
part, but first here a house and there a house, to which others by
degrees were joined; till, at last, single houses were united into
whole streets; whole streets into one beautiful city; not merely, as
before, a great and magnificent city, for in a short time it not only
excelled itself, but any other city in the whole world that comes near
it, either in largeness, or number of inhabitants.
The beginning of the year 1670, the city of London was rebuilt, with
more space and splendour than had been before seen in England. The
act for rebuilding it was drawn by Sir Matthew Hale, with so true
judgment and foresight, that the whole city was raised out of its
ashes without any suits of law; which if that bill had not prevented
them, would have brought a second charge on the city, not much less
than the fire itself had been. And upon that, to the amazement of all
Europe, London was, in four years' time, rebuilt with so much beauty
and magnificence, that they who saw it in both states, before and
after the fire, could not reflect on it, without wondering where the
wealth could be found to bear so vast a loss as was made by the fire,
and so prodigious an expense as was laid out in the rebuilding. This
good and great work was very much forwarded by Sir William Turner,
lord mayor, 1669. He was so much honoured and beloved, that at the end
of the year they chose him again; but he refused it, as being an
unusual thing.
Whatever the unfortunate citizens of London suffered by this dreadful
fire, it is manifest, that a greater blessing could not have happened
for the good of posterity; for, instead of very narrow, crooked, and
incommodious streets, dark, irregular and ill-contrived wooden houses,
with their several stories jutting out, or hanging over each other,
whereby the circulation of the air was obstructed, noisome vapours
harboured, and verminious, pestilential atoms nourished, as is
manifest, by the city not being clear of the plague for twenty-five
years before, and only free from contagion three years in above
seventy; enlarging of the streets, and modern way of building, there
is such a free circulation of sweet air through the streets, that
offensive vapours are expelled, and the city freed from pestilential
symptoms: so that it may now justly be averred that there is no place
in the kingdom where the inhabitants enjoy a better state of health,
or live to a greater age, than the citizens of London.