OF MY SOJOURN IN LONDON.
My sojourn with Master Rushworth was but for a time. Accordingly some
three days, or thereabouts, after that I had been a spectator of the
lawyers' great masque, I changed my abode to the house of one Mr.
Timothy Drake, a woollen draper, that dwelt upon London Bridge, on the
north side. Master Drake was bound to my kinsman Master Harford, of
whom I have before spoken, by many obligations of benefits received;
and when the said uncle, being single and well advanced in years, was
unwilling to be troubled with the charge of a child, Master Drake
gladly received me; not, I suppose, without good consideration given.
It was judged to be more convenient for me to lodge upon the bridge,
which is but little more than a stone's throw from the Merchant
Taylors' School, than in the Strand; nor was I unwilling to go, but my
sojourn there was but for a very short time, as I shall presently
show.
'Twas a marvellous place this same London Bridge, more like, indeed,
to a village than a bridge, having on either side houses, some of them
being shops, as was that in which I dwelt, and some taverns, and some
private dwellings. And about the middle of the bridge stood a great
building, which they called Nonesuch House, very splendidly painted
with colours, and having wooden galleries hanging over the river,
richly ornamented with carving and gilding. This Nonesuch House
covered the whole breadth of the bridge from the one side to the
other; and in the middle of it was an arch with the road passing under
it.
[Illustration: _London Bridge._
_HANHART LITH._]
The bridge had, or, I should rather say, has (for it still stands and
will, I doubt not, stand for many ages to come) twenty arches, of
which one is blocked. They are but small, the purpose of the builder,
Peter of Colechurch, having been, it is said, thus to restrain the
ebbing of the tide, and so to make the river above the bridge more
easily navigable. I should rather think, if I may say so much without
wrong to the pious man, that in that rude age (now near upon five
centuries since) he knew not how to build bigger. And being thus small
they are still further diminished by the sterlings that are built
about the piers, to keep them from damage by ice or floods. Thus it
came to pass that of nine hundred feet (for such is the length of the
bridge from end to end) scarce two hundred remain for the waterway.
The consequence thereof is that when the water is lower than the
sterlings it rushes through the arches with a singular great violence.
How great it is may be judged from this, that in some of the arches
there is a waterfall, so to speak, of as much as two feet, when the
tide is at its strongest; and this strongest is when it is about
half-spent, running upwards; but why the flow should be stronger than
the ebb I know not, seeing that this latter is increased by the
natural current of the river. I do remember, if I may delay those that
shall read this chronicle with such childish recollections, how I
marvelled at the first at this same ebb and flow, of which I had never
before heard. On the first day of my coming to Master Drake's house,
being, as I remember, the seventh day of February, I looked out from
my chamber window about half-past five of the clock, and saw the
Thames full to his banks and flowing eastward, as by rights he should,
it being then but just past the flood. But the next time that I
chanced to cast my eyes on him, the tide having but newly begun to
flow, lo! he was dwindled to half his span, and ran westward. Of a
truth I thought that there was witchcraft, and, being a simple child,
ran down into my host's parlour, crying, "What ails the river that it
is half-spent and runs the wrong way?" and was much laughed at for my
pains.
I thought to have much pleasure from sojourn in the house upon the
bridge, and doubtless should have had but for the sad mishap of which
I shall shortly speak. For indeed there was much to be seen daily upon
the river. On the eastern side, looking, that is to say, towards the
sea, there were goodly ships from all parts of the world, lading and
unlading their cargoes, for through the bridge none could go; nay, the
very wherries, for the violence of the water, would not venture the
passage save at the highest or lowest of the tide; but passengers were
discharged on the one side and took boat again on the other. And on
the western side there were the barges of my Lord Mayor and of the
richer of the Companies; and barges of trade, carrying all manner of
goods and especially timber, both for building and burning; and small
boats almost without number, both of private persons and of watermen
that plied for hire. And on occasions there were races among the
watermen and also among the 'prentices of the City. And there were
other sports, notably that of tilting upon the water, in which the
vanquisher would dismount the vanquished, not indeed from his horse
but from his boat, and sometimes drive him into the water, with no
small laughter from the spectators. The bridge also afforded another
pastime, for when the tide was so far ebbed that it was possible to
stand upon the sterlings (which were at other times covered with
water) there were many fishes to be caught, for these commonly resort
where there is abundance of food to be found, as must needs be in so
great a city as London. And if any cannot conceive of the anglers'
craft as practised in the midst of such din and tumult, they may take
as a proof that the makers of anglers' tackle congregate in Crooked
Lane, which is hard by the bridge, more than in any other place in
London.
Being also a lad, for all my tender years, of an active fancy and apt
to muse by myself, and to build castles in the air, or, as some say,
in Spain, for my delight, I did not forget the story of Edward
Osborne, that was 'prentice to Sir William Hewet, clothworker, some
time Lord Mayor of London, how he leapt from the window of one of the
bridge houses, and saved his master's daughter that had been dropped
into the river by a careless maid. All the dwellers on the bridge have
the story ready, so to speak, on the tip of their tongues, as if it
were a credit to themselves; nor would I discourage the thought, for
haply it might give a lad boldness to venture his life in the like
gallant way. Hence, before I had been in the house an hour they showed
me the window from which the said Edward leapt. All the world knows, I
suppose, how he afterwards married this same daughter, and received
with her a great estate, and how he rose to great prosperity, being
Lord Mayor in the year 1583, and how his posterity are to this day
persons of great worship and renown, who will yet, if I mistake not,
rise higher in the state. 'Tis true I was no 'prentice, nor had Master
Drake a daughter, save one that must have been forty years of age at
the very least; but what are these hindrances to the fancy when it is
minded to disport in its own realms?
But now for the mishap which scattered these fancies and the hopes of
other delights, of which I have before spoken. I came, as I have said,
to sojourn with Master Drake on the seventh day of February, being, as
I remember, a Thursday; and on the Monday following my sojourn was
ended. Near to Master Drake's house dwelt Mr. John Briggs, a
needle-maker by trade, who was wont to keep up a brisk fire for the
carrying on of his craft. This being maintained at a greater height
and for a longer time together than was customary, trade being beyond
ordinary brisk, heated the woodwork adjoining, than which there is, as
I conceive, no more common cause of such mischief. This at least, was
conjectured at the time, for nothing could be known of a certainty.
What is established is, that about ten of the clock at night on Monday
aforesaid, the fire began in Mr. Briggs' house, and that so suddenly
and with such violence that he and his wife and child, a maid of about
four years (who, as being of a more convenient age and size than
Mistress Tabitha Drake, I had resolved should fall into the river and
be saved by me) escaped with their lives very hardly, having nothing
on but their shirts, and it may be said, the smoke, so near did they
come to being burned. Nor were we in much better case, save that
Master Drake and his wife and daughter, having entertained the parson
of the parish to supper ('twas in the parish of St. Magnus the Martyr)
had not yet gone to bed. Thus they were able not only to save
themselves and me, who was in bed and sound asleep, more easily, but
also to carry off some of their chief possessions. As for putting out
of the fire, little or nothing could be done. A man might have thought
that, the houses being on a bridge, there would be sufficient water at
hand to prevent a fire, how great soever. But it was not so. By
ill-luck it happened that the river was at its very lowest, so that
the engines, of which there were three, newly made, and much admired
for their excellence, could get no water from it, and, indeed, were
broken in the endeavour. And when the conduits were opened, and the
pipes that carried water through the streets cut, these also yielded
but little water, so that the fire raged almost without let or
hindrance. Yet such water as there was, was used to the uttermost, men
carrying the buckets up ladders, which were set against the burning
houses, and pouring them upon the flames. From this, indeed, came
other damages, for the ladders were burnt through, to the hurt of
many, by the breaking of their arms and legs, and even to the loss of
their lives. All that night and the next day until noon the fire
continued to burn fiercely; nor did it stop till it came to the first
empty space upon the bridge; there it was stayed for want of matter,
the brewers' men that were on the other side of the river also helping
by bringing abundance of water on their drays and wetting the houses
that were yet unconsumed. There were forty-three houses burned in all,
being about the third part of those that stood upon the bridge. The
road was so blocked by the ruins that, though as many as had space to
stand laboured to carry away the timber and bricks, and tiles and
rubbish, none could pass over the bridge before Wednesday, and there
were remains of the fire yet smouldering on the Tuesday following, as
I learned to my cost, having on that day burnt my finger with a live
coal of fire which I took up in my hand.
By God's mercy, the night was warm, or else the inhabitants that were
ousted so suddenly from their homes had suffered much. It was still,
also, a matter for which we are yet more bound to be thankful; for had
the wind, which was, indeed, from the south, and so blew towards the
City, been strong, London itself would have been much endangered, the
more so as the traders in Thames Street have much pitch, tar, rosin,
oil, and other inflammable goods in their houses. Indeed, were I
minded to prophesy, I should say that some day, there will arise in
this very part of London, for nowhere is the peril greater, such a
conflagration as has never been seen in the world; save only, it may
be, when Rome was set on fire by that mad Cæsar, Nero.
As for myself, I found shelter, for the time, with my kinsman, Master
Harford, in his fine mansion, hard by the Church of Saint Peter on
Cornhill. Whether he would have kept me now that his scheme of lodging
me with Master Drake had fallen through, I cannot say; but, if he ever
entertained any such purpose, it was shortly dismissed by reason of my
behaviour. 'Twas, as I have said, a fine mansion, Master Harford being
one of the wealthiest merchants in London, and the table kept
proportionate thereto. There was no mistress of the house, Master
Harford being, as I have said, a bachelor, but a housekeeper, Joan
Fuller by name, a kind woman, and knowing in all the knowledge of the
store-room and kitchen, but otherwise of scant sense. She, having none
on whom to bestow her affections, save a cat and a dog, took a mighty
favour to me, which favour she showed in the fashion that she herself
would have most approved, if I may say so much without unkindness to
the memory of one that is now deceased; for she plied me, both in
season and out of season, with all manner of dainty meats, so that in
the space of eight days or thereabouts I fell sick. 'Twas no great
matter, only a sickness as would come to any child that had been so
dealt with, and was easily set right by the apothecary's medicines,
which, to my mind, so nauseous were they, did more than outweigh all
the pleasure of my dainty feeding; but it settled Master Harford in
his intention to lodge me elsewhere than in his own house. Master
Drake could not entertain me any more, having to be content with scant
lodging for himself and his wife and daughter. Nor was there any talk
of building up the houses again; and this, indeed, was not done for
more than thirteen years after the burning; but the sides of the
bridge where they had been were covered in with boarding. So it came
about that I was sent back to my first lodging with Master Rushworth,
in the Strand.
He was, as I have said, a merchant of timber, and had his house in the
Strand, on the north side, with a yard on the other side of the
street, in which he stored his goods and did his buying and selling.
In this I was free to play as much as suited my liking, and here also
I found great delights, of which the chief, I think, was the discovery
that the captain of one of the barges which brought him timber was a
certain William Beasley, of Oxford, who had served my father as
bailiff and fisherman, and in other employments, as many as a single
pair of his hands could discharge. With him I had much talk, and
always counted this talk very precious, it being chiefly of home
matters, so that only the actual going thither could by any means be
more to be desired.