LONDON IN FLAMES
The sailors laughed and joked as they rowed away from the Fleet, but
the old boatswain shook his head.
"We shall have to be careful, Sir Cyril," he said. "It is like a
small cur barking at the heels of a bull--it is good fun enough for a
bit, but when the bull turns, perchance the dog will find himself
thrown high in the air."
Cyril nodded. He himself considered Prince Rupert's order to be
beyond all reason, and given only in the heat of his anger at De
Ruyter having thus escaped him, and felt that it was very likely to
cost the lives of all on board the _Fan Fan_. However, there was
nothing to do but to carry it out. It seemed to him that the
boatswain's simile was a very apt one, and that, although the
spectacle of the _Fan Fan_ worrying the great Dutch battle-ship
might be an amusing one to the English spectators, it was likely to
be a very serious adventure for her.
De Ruyter's ship, which was in the rear of all the other Dutch
vessels, was but a mile distant when the _Fan Fan_ started, and as
the wind was so light that it scarce filled her sails, the yacht
approached her rapidly.
"We are within half a mile now, your honour," the boatswain said. "I
should say we had better go no nearer if we don't want to be blown
out of the water."
"Yes; I think we may as well stop rowing now, and get the guns to
work. There are only those two cannon in her stern ports which can
touch us here. She will scarcely come up in the wind to give us a
broadside. She is moving so slowly through the water that it would
take her a long time to come round, and De Ruyter would feel ashamed
to bring his great flag-ship round to crush such a tiny foe."
The boatswain went forward to the guns, round which the men, after
laying in their oars, clustered in great glee.
"Now," he said, "you have got to make those two guns in the stern
your mark. Try and send your shots through the port-holes. It will be
a waste to fire them at the hull, for the balls would not penetrate
the thick timber that she is built of. Remember, the straighter you
aim the more chance there is that the Dutch won't hit us. Men don't
stop to aim very straight when they are expecting a shot among them
every second. We will fire alternately, and one gun is not to fire
until the other is loaded again. I will lay the first gun myself."
It was a good shot, and the crew cheered as they saw the splinters
fly at the edge of the port-hole. Shot after shot was fired with
varying success.
The Dutch made no reply, and seemed to ignore the presence of their
tiny foe. The crew were, for the most part, busy aloft repairing
damages, and after half an hour's firing, without eliciting a reply,
the boatswain went aft to Cyril, and suggested that they should now
aim at the spars.
"A lucky shot might do a good deal of damage, sir," he said. "The
weather is fine enough at present, but there is no saying when a
change may come, and if we could weaken one of the main spars it
might be the means of her being blown ashore, should the wind spring
up in the right direction."
Cyril assented, and fire was now directed at the masts. A few ropes
were cut away, but no serious damage was effected until a shot struck
one of the halliard blocks of the spanker, and the sail at once ran
down.
"It has taken a big bit out of the mast, too," the boatswain called
exultingly to Cyril. "I think that will rouse the Dutchmen up."
A minute later it was evident that the shot had at least had that
effect. Two puffs of smoke spirted out from the stern of the Dutch
flagship, and, simultaneously with the roar of the guns, came the hum
of two heavy shot flying overhead. Delighted at having excited the
Dutchmen's wrath at last, the crew of the _Fan Fan_ took off their
hats and gave a loud cheer, and then, more earnestly than before,
settled down to work; their guns aimed now, as at first, at the
port-holes. Four or five shots were discharged from each of the
little guns before the Dutch were ready again. Then came the
thundering reports. The _Fan Fan's_ topmast was carried away by one
of the shot, but the other went wide. Two or three men were told to
cut away the wreckage, and the rest continued their fire. One of the
next shots of the enemy was better directed. It struck the deck close
to the foot of the mast, committed great havoc in Cyril's cabin, and
passed out through the stern below the water-line. Cyril leapt down
the companion as he heard the crash, shouting to the boatswain to
follow him. The water was coming through the hole in a great jet.
Cyril seized a pillow and--stuffed it into the shot-hole, being
drenched from head to foot in the operation. One of the sailors had
followed the boatswain, and Cyril called him to his assistance.
"Get out the oars at once," he said to the boatswain. "Another shot
like this and she will go down. Get a piece cut off a spar and make a
plug. There is no holding this pillow in its place, and the water
comes in fast still."
The sailor took Cyril's post while he ran up on deck and assisted in
cutting the plug; this was roughly shaped to the size of the hole,
and then driven in. It stopped the rush of the water, but a good deal
still leaked through.
By the time this was done the _Fan Fan_ had considerably increased
her distance from De Ruyter. Four or five more shots were fired from
the Dutch ship. The last of these struck the mast ten feet above the
deck, bringing it down with a crash. Fortunately, none of the crew
were hurt, and, dropping the oars, they hauled the mast alongside,
cut the sail from its fastening to the hoops and gaff, and then
severed the shrouds and allowed the mast to drift away, while they
again settled themselves to the oars. Although every man rowed his
hardest, the _Fan Fan_ was half full of water before she reached the
Fleet, which was two miles astern of them when they first began to
row.
"Well done, _Fan Fan_!" Prince Rupert shouted, as the little craft
came alongside. "Have you suffered any damage besides your spars? I
see you are low in the water."
"We were shot through our stern, sir; we put in a plug, but the water
comes in still. Will you send a carpenter on board? For I don't think
she will float many minutes longer unless we get the hole better
stopped."
The Prince gave some orders to an officer standing by him. The latter
called two or three sailors and bade them bring some short lengths of
thick hawser, while a strong party were set to reeve tackle to the
mainyard. As soon as the hawsers, each thirty feet in length, were
brought, they were dropped on to the deck of the _Fan Fan_, and the
officer told the crew to pass them under her, one near each end, and
to knot the hawsers. By the time this was done, two strong tackles
were lowered and fixed to the hawsers, and the crew ordered to come
up on to the ship. The tackles were then manned and hauled on by
strong parties, and the _Fan Fan_ was gradually raised. The
boatswain went below again and knocked out the plug, and, as the
little yacht was hoisted up, the water ran out of it. As soon as the
hole was above the water-level, the tackle at the bow was gradually
slackened off until she lay with her fore-part in the water, which
came some distance up her deck. The carpenter then slung himself over
the stern, and nailed, first a piece of tarred canvas, and then a
square of plank, over the hole. Then the stern tackle was eased off,
and the _Fan Fan_ floated on a level keel. Her crew went down to her
again, and, in half an hour, pumped her free of water.
By this time, the results of the victory were known. On the English
side, the _Resolution_ was the only ship lost, she having been burnt
by a Dutch fire-ship; three English captains, and about three hundred
men were killed. On the other hand, the Dutch lost twenty ships, four
admirals, a great many of their captains, and some four thousand men.
It was, indeed, the greatest and most complete victory gained
throughout the war. Many of the British ships had suffered a good
deal, that which carried the Duke's flag most of all, for it had been
so battered in the fight with De Ruyter that the Duke and Prince
Rupert had been obliged to leave her, and to hoist their flags upon
another man-of-war.
The next morning the Fleet sailed to Schonevelt, which was the usual
_rendezvous_ of the Dutch Fleet, and there remained some time,
altogether undisturbed by the enemy. The _Fan Fan_ was here
thoroughly repaired.
On July 29th they sailed for Ulic, where they arrived on August 7th,
the wind being contrary.
Learning that there was a large fleet of merchantmen lying between
the islands of Ulic and Schelling, guarded by but two men-of-war, and
that there were rich magazines of goods on these islands, it was
determined to attack them. Four small frigates, of a slight draught
of water, and five fire-ships, were selected for the attack, together
with the boats of the Fleet, manned by nine hundred men.
On the evening of the 8th, Cyril was ordered to go, in the _Fan
Fan_, to reconnoitre the position of the Dutch. He did not sail
until after nightfall, and, on reaching the passage between the
islands, he lowered his sails, got out his oars, and drifted with the
tide silently down through the Dutch merchant fleet, where no watch
seemed to be kept, and in the morning carried the news to Sir Robert
Holmes, the commander of the expedition, who had anchored a league
from the entrance.
Cyril had sounded the passage as he went through, and it was found
that two of the frigates could not enter it. These were left at the
anchorage, and, on arriving at the mouth of the harbour, the
_Tiger_, Sir Robert Holmes's flagship, was also obliged to anchor,
and he came on board the _Fan Fan_, on which he hoisted his flag.
The captains of the other ships came on board, and it was arranged
that the _Pembroke_, which had but a small draught of water, should
enter at once with the five fire-ships.
The attack was completely successful. Two of the fire-ships grappled
with the men-of-war and burnt them, while three great merchantmen
were destroyed by the others. Then the boats dashed into the fleet,
and, with the exception of four or five merchantmen and four
privateers, who took refuge in a creek, defended by a battery, the
whole of the hundred and seventy merchantmen, the smallest of which
was not less than 200 tons burden, and all heavily laden, were
burned.
The next day, Sir Robert Holmes landed eleven companies of troops on
the Island of Schonevelt and burnt Bandaris, its principal town, with
its magazines and store-houses, causing a loss to the Dutch,
according to their own admission, of six million guilders. This, and
the loss of the great Fleet, inflicted a very heavy blow upon the
commerce of Holland. The _Fan Fan_ had been hit again by a shot from
one of the batteries, and, on her rejoining the Fleet, Prince Rupert
determined to send her to England so that she could be thoroughly
repaired and fitted out again. Cyril's orders were to take her to
Chatham, and to hand her over to the dockyard authorities.
"I do not think the Dutch will come out and fight us again this
autumn, Sir Cyril, so you can take your ease in London as it pleases
you. We are now halfway through August, and it will probably be at
least a month after your arrival before the _Fan Fan_ is fit for sea
again. It may be a good deal longer than that, for they are busy upon
the repairs of the ships sent home after the battle, and will hardly
take any hands off these to put on to the _Fan Fan_. In October we
shall all be coming home again, so that, until next spring, it is
hardly likely that there will be aught doing."
Cyril accordingly returned to London. The wind was contrary, and it
was not until the last day of August that he dropped anchor in the
Medway. After spending a night at Chatham, he posted up to London the
next morning, and, finding convenient chambers in the Savoy, he
installed himself there, and then proceeded to the house of the Earl
of Wisbech, to whom he was the bearer of a letter from his son.
Finding that the Earl and his family were down at his place near
Sevenoaks, he went into the City, and spent the evening at Captain
Dave's, having ordered his servant to pack a small valise, and bring
it with the two horses in the morning. He had gone to bed but an hour
when he was awoke by John Wilkes knocking at his door.
"There is a great fire burning not far off, Sir Cyril. A man who ran
past told me it was in Pudding Lane, at the top of Fish Street. The
Captain is getting up, and is going out to see it; for, with such dry
weather as we have been having, there is no saying how far it may
go."
Cyril sprang out of his bed and dressed. Captain Dave, accustomed to
slip on his clothes in a hurry, was waiting for him, and, with John
Wilkes, they sallied out. There was a broad glare of light in the
sky, and the bells of many of the churches were ringing out the
fire-alarm. As they passed, many people put their heads out from
windows and asked where the fire was. In five minutes they approached
the scene. A dozen houses were blazing fiercely, while, from those
near, the inhabitants were busily removing their valuables. The Fire
Companies, with their buckets, were already at work, and lines of men
were formed down to the river and were passing along buckets from
hand to hand. Well-nigh half the water was spilt, however, before it
arrived at the fire, and, in the face of such a body of flame, it
seemed to make no impression whatever.
"They might as well attempt to pump out a leaky ship with a child's
squirt," the Captain said. "The fire will burn itself out, and we
must pray heaven that the wind drops altogether; 'tis not strong, but
it will suffice to carry the flames across these narrow streets. 'Tis
lucky that it is from the east, so there is little fear that it will
travel in our direction."
They learnt that the fire had begun in the house of Faryner, the
King's baker, though none knew how it had got alight. It was not long
before the flames leapt across the lane, five or six houses catching
fire almost at the same moment. A cry of dismay broke from the crowd,
and the fright of the neighbours increased. Half-clad women hurried
from their houses, carrying their babes, and dragging their younger
children out. Men staggered along with trunks of clothing and
valuables. Many wrung their hands helplessly, while the City Watch
guarded the streets leading to Pudding Lane, so as to prevent thieves
and vagabonds from taking advantage of the confusion to plunder.
With great rapidity the flames spread from house to house. A portion
of Fish Street was already invaded, and the Church of St. Magnus in
danger. The fears of the people increased in proportion to the
advance of the conflagration. The whole neighbourhood was now
alarmed, and, in all the streets round, people were beginning to
remove their goods. The river seemed to be regarded by all as the
safest place of refuge. The boats from the various landing-places had
already come up, and these were doing a thriving trade by taking the
frightened people, with what goods they carried, to lighters and
ships moored in the river.
The lines of men passing buckets had long since broken up, it being
too evident that their efforts were not of the slightest avail. The
wind had, in the last two hours, rapidly increased in strength, and
was carrying the burning embers far and wide.
Cyril and his companions had, after satisfying their first curiosity,
set to work to assist the fugitives, by aiding them to carry down
their goods to the waterside. Cyril was now between eighteen and
nineteen, and had grown into a powerful, young fellow, having, since
he recovered from the Plague, grown fast and widened out greatly. He
was able to shoulder heavy trunks, and to carry them down without
difficulty.
By six o'clock, however, all were exhausted by their labours, and
Captain Dave's proposal, that they should go back and get breakfast
and have a wash, was at once agreed to.
At this time the greater part of Fish Street was in flames, the
Church of St. Magnus had fallen, and the flames had spread to many of
the streets and alleys running west. The houses on the Bridge were
blazing.
"Well, father, what is the news?" Nellie exclaimed, as they entered.
"What have you been doing? You are all blackened, like the men who
carry out the coals from the ships. I never saw such figures."
"We have been helping people to carry their goods down to the water,
Nellie. The news is bad. The fire is a terrible one."
"That we can see, father. Mother and I were at the window for hours
after you left, and the whole sky seemed ablaze. Do you think that
there is any danger of its coming here?"
"The wind is taking the flames the other way, Nellie, but in spite of
that I think that there is danger. The heat is so great that the
houses catch on this side, and we saw, as we came back, that it had
travelled eastwards. Truly, I believe that if the wind keeps on as it
is at present, the whole City will be destroyed. However, we will
have a wash first and then some breakfast, of which we are sorely in
need. Then we can talk over what had best be done."
Little was said during breakfast. The apprentices had already been
out, and so excited were they at the scenes they had witnessed that
they had difficulty in preserving their usual quiet and submissive
demeanour. Captain Dave was wearied with his unwonted exertions. Mrs.
Dowsett and Nellie both looked pale and anxious, and Cyril and John
Wilkes were oppressed by the terrible scene of destruction and the
widespread misery they had witnessed.
When breakfast was over, Captain Dave ordered the apprentices on no
account to leave the premises. They were to put up the shutters at
once, and then to await orders.
"What do you think we had better do, Cyril?" he said, when the boys
had left the room.
"I should say that you had certainly better go on board a ship,
Captain Dave. There is time to move now quietly, and to get many
things taken on board, but if there were a swift change of wind the
flames would come down so suddenly that you would have no time to
save anything. Do you know of a captain who would receive you?"
"Certainly; I know of half a dozen."
"Then the first thing is to secure a boat before they are all taken
up."
"I will go down to the stairs at once."
"Then I should say, John, you had better go off with Captain Dave,
and, as soon as he has arranged with one of the captains, come back
to shore. Let the waterman lie off in the stream, for if the flames
come this way there will be a rush for boats, and people will not
stop to ask to whom they belong. It will be better still to take one
of the apprentices with you, leave him at the stairs till you return,
and then tie up to a ship till we hail him."
"That will be the best plan," Captain Dave said. "Now, wife, you and
Nellie and the maid had best set to work at once packing up all your
best clothes and such other things as you may think most valuable. We
shall have time, I hope, to make many trips."
"While you are away, I will go along the street and see whether the
fire is making any way in this direction," Cyril said. "Of course if
it's coming slowly you will have time to take away a great many
things. And we may even hope that it may not come here at all."
Taking one of the apprentices, Captain Dave and John at once started
for the waterside, while Cyril made his way westward.
Already, people were bringing down their goods from most of the
houses. Some acted as if they believed that if they took the goods
out of the houses they would be safe, and great piles of articles of
all kinds almost blocked the road. Weeping women and frightened
children sat on these piles as if to guard them. Some stood at their
doors wringing their hands helplessly; others were already starting
eastward laden with bundles and boxes, occasionally looking round as
if to bid farewell to their homes. Many of the men seemed even more
confused and frightened than the women, running hither and thither
without purpose, shouting, gesticulating, and seeming almost
distraught with fear and grief.
Cyril had not gone far when he saw that the houses on both sides of
the street, at the further end, were already in flames. He was
obliged to advance with great caution, for many people were
recklessly throwing goods of all kinds from the windows, regardless
of whom they might fall upon, and without thought of how they were to
be carried away. He went on until close to the fire, and stood for a
time watching. The noise was bewildering. Mingled with the roar of
the flames, the crackling of woodwork, and the heavy crashes that
told of the fall of roofs or walls, was the clang of the alarm-bells,
shouts, cries, and screams. The fire spread steadily, but with none
of the rapidity with which he had seen it fly along from house to
house on the other side of the conflagration. The houses, however,
were largely composed of wood. The balconies generally caught first,
and the fire crept along under the roofs, and sometimes a shower of
tiles, and a burst of flames, showed that it had advanced there,
while the lower portion of the house was still intact.
"Is it coming, Cyril?" Mrs. Dowsett asked, when he returned.
"It is coming steadily," he said, "and can be stopped by nothing
short of a miracle. Can I help you in any way?"
"No," she said; "we have packed as many things as can possibly be
carried. It is well that your things are all at your lodging, Cyril,
and beyond the risk of this danger."
"It would have mattered little about them," he said. "I could have
replaced them easily enough. That is but a question of money. And
now, in the first place, I will get the trunks and bundles you have
packed downstairs. That will save time."
Assisted by the apprentice and Nellie, Cyril got all the things
downstairs.
"How long have we, do you think?" Nellie asked.
"I should say that in three hours the fire will be here," he said.
"It may be checked a little at the cross lanes; but I fear that three
hours is all we can hope for."
Just as they had finished taking down the trunks, Captain Dave and
John Wilkes arrived.
"I have arranged the affair," the former said. "My old friend, Dick
Watson, will take us in his ship; she lies but a hundred yards from
the stairs. Now, get on your mantle and hood, Nellie, and bring your
mother and maid down."
The three women were soon at the foot of the stairs, and Mrs.
Dowsett's face showed signs of tears; but, though pale, she was quiet
and calm, and the servant, a stout wench, had gained confidence from
her mistress's example. As soon as they were ready, the three men
each shouldered a trunk. The servant and the apprentice carried one
between them. Mrs. Dowsett and her daughter took as many bundles as
they could carry. It was but five minutes' walk down to the stairs.
The boat was lying twenty yards out in the stream, fastened up to a
lighter, with the apprentice and waterman on board. It came at once
alongside, and in five minutes they reached the _Good Venture_. As
soon as the women had ascended the accommodation ladder, some sailors
ran down and helped to carry up the trunks.
"Empty them all out in the cabin," Captain Dave said to his wife; "we
will take them back with us."
As soon as he had seen the ladies into the cabin, Captain Watson
called his son Frank, who was his chief mate, and half a dozen of his
men. These carried the boxes, as fast as they were emptied, down into
the boat.
"We will all go ashore together," he said to Captain Dave. "I was a
fool not to think of it before. We will soon make light work of it."
As soon as they reached the house, some of the sailors were sent off
with the remaining trunks and bundles, while the others carried
upstairs those they had brought, and quickly emptied into them the
remaining contents of the drawers and linen press. So quickly and
steadily did the work go on, that no less than six trips were made to
the _Good Venture_ in the next three hours, and at the end of that
time almost everything portable had been carried away, including
several pieces of valuable furniture, and a large number of objects
brought home by Captain Dave from his various voyages. The last
journey, indeed, was devoted to saving some of the most valuable
contents of the store. Captain Dave, delighted at having saved so
much, would not have thought of taking more, but Captain Watson would
not hear of this.
"There is time for one more trip, old friend," he said, "and there
are many things in your store that are worth more than their weight
in silver. I will take my other two hands this time, and, with the
eight men and our five selves, we shall be able to bring a good
load."
The trunks were therefore this time packed with ship's instruments,
and brass fittings of all kinds, to the full weight that could be
carried. All hands then set to work, and, in a very short time, a
great proportion of the portable goods were carried from the
store-house into an arched cellar beneath it. By the time that they
were ready to start there were but six houses between them and the
fire.
"I wish we had another three hours before us," Captain Watson said.
"It goes to one's heart to leave all this new rope and sail cloth,
good blocks, and other things, to be burnt."
"There have been better things than that burnt to-day, Watson. Few
men have saved as much as I have, thanks to your assistance and that
of these stout sailors of yours. Why, the contents of these twelve
boxes are worth as much as the whole of the goods remaining."
The sailors' loads were so heavy that they had to help each other to
get them upon their shoulders, and the other five were scarcely less
weighted; and, short as was the distance, all had to rest several
times on the way to the stairs, setting their burdens upon
window-sills, or upon boxes scattered in the streets. One of the
ship's boats had, after the first trip, taken the place of the light
wherry, but even this was weighted down to the gunwale when the men
and the goods were all on board. After the first two trips, the
contents of the boxes had been emptied on deck, and by the time the
last arrived the three women had packed away in the empty cabins all
the clothing, linen, and other articles, that had been taken below.
Captain Watson ordered a stiff glass of grog to be given to each of
the sailors, and then went down with the others into the main cabin,
where the steward had already laid the table for a meal, and poured
out five tumblers of wine.
"I have not had so tough a job since I was before the mast," he said.
"What say you, Captain Dave?"
"It has been a hard morning's work, indeed, Watson, and, in truth, I
feel fairly spent. But though weary in body I am cheerful in heart.
It seemed to me at breakfast-time that we should save little beyond
what we stood in, and now I have rescued well-nigh everything
valuable that I have. I should have grieved greatly had I lost all
those mementos that it took me nigh thirty years to gather, and those
pieces of furniture that belonged to my father I would not have lost
for any money. Truly, it has been a noble salvage."
Mrs. Dowsett and Nellie now joined them. They had quite recovered
their spirits, and were delighted at the unexpected rescue of so many
things precious to them, and Captain Watson was overwhelmed by their
thanks for what he had done.
After the meal was over they sat quietly talking for a time, and then
Cyril proposed that they should row up the river and see what
progress the fire was making above the Bridge. Mrs. Dowsett, however,
was too much fatigued by her sleepless night and the troubles and
emotions of the morning to care about going. Captain Dave said that
he was too stiff to do anything but sit quiet and smoke a pipe, and
that he would superintend the getting of their things on deck a
little ship-shape. Nellie embraced the offer eagerly, and young
Watson, who was a well-built and handsome fellow, with a pleasant
face and manner, said that he would go, and would take a couple of
hands to row. The tide had just turned to run up when they set out.
Cyril asked the first mate to steer, and he sat on one side of him
and Nellie on the other.
"You will have to mind your oars, lads," Frank Watson said. "The
river is crowded with boats."
They crossed over to the Southwark side, as it would have been
dangerous to pass under the arches above which the houses were
burning. The flames, however, had not spread right across the bridge,
for the houses were built only over the piers, and the openings at
the arches had checked the flames, and at these points numbers of men
were drawing water in buckets and throwing it over the fronts of the
houses, or passing them, by ropes, to other men on the roofs, which
were kept deluged with water. Hundreds of willing hands were engaged
in the work, for the sight of the tremendous fire on the opposite
bank filled people with terror lest the flames should cross the
bridge and spread to the south side of the river. The warehouses and
wharves on the bank were black with spectators, who looked with
astonishment and awe at the terrible scene of destruction.
It was not until they passed under the bridge that the full extent of
the conflagration was visible. The fire had made its way some
distance along Thames Street, and had spread far up into the City.
Gracechurch Street and Lombard Street were in flames, and indeed the
fire seemed to have extended a long distance further; but the smoke
was so dense, that it was difficult to make out the precise point
that it had reached. The river was a wonderful sight. It was crowded
with boats and lighters, all piled up with goods, while along the
quays from Dowgate to the Temple, crowds of people were engaged in
placing what goods they had saved on board lighters and other craft.
Many of those in the boats seemed altogether helpless and undecided
as to what had best be done, and drifted along with the tide, but the
best part were making either for the marshes at Lambeth or the fields
at Millbank, there to land their goods, the owners of the boats
refusing to keep them long on board, as they desired to return by the
next tide to fetch away other cargoes, being able to obtain any price
they chose to demand for their services.
Among the boats were floating goods and wreckage of all kinds,
charred timber that had fallen from the houses on the bridge, and
from the warehouses by the quays, bales of goods, articles of
furniture, bedding, and other matters. At times, a sudden change of
wind drove a dense smoke across the water, flakes of burning embers
and papers causing great confusion among the boats, and threatening
to set the piles of goods on fire.
At Frank Watson's suggestion, they landed at the Temple, after having
been some two hours on the river. Going up into Fleet Street, they
found a stream of carts and other vehicles proceeding westward, all
piled with furniture and goods, mostly of a valuable kind. The
pavements were well-nigh blocked with people, all journeying in the
same direction, laden with their belongings. With difficulty they
made their way East as far as St. Paul's. The farther end of
Cheapside was already in flames, and they learnt that the fire had
extended as far as Moorfields. It was said that efforts had been made
to pull down houses and so check its progress, but that there was no
order or method, and that no benefit was gained by the work.
After looking on at the scene for some time, they returned to Fleet
Street. Frank Watson went down with Nellie to the boat, while Cyril
went to his lodgings in the Savoy. Here he found his servant
anxiously awaiting him.
"I did not bring the horses this morning, sir," he said. "I heard
that there was a great fire, and went on foot as far as I could get,
but, finding that I could not pass, I thought it best to come back
here and await your return."
"Quite right, Reuben; you could not have got the horses to me unless
you had ridden round the walls and come in at Aldgate, and they would
have been useless had you brought them. The house at which I stayed
last night is already burnt to the ground. You had better stay here
for the present, I think. There is no fear of the fire extending
beyond the City. Should you find that it does so, pack my clothes in
the valises, take the horses down to Sevenoaks, and remain at the
Earl's until you hear from me."
Having arranged this, Cyril went down to the Savoy stairs, where he
found the boat waiting for him, and then they rowed back to London
Bridge, where, the force of the tide being now abated, they were able
to row through and get to the _Good Venture_.
They had but little sleep that night. Gradually the fire worked its
way eastward until it was abreast of them. The roaring and crackling
of the flames was prodigious. Here and there the glare was
diversified by columns of a deeper red glow, showing where
warehouses, filled with pitch, tar, and oil, were in flames. The
heavy crashes of falling buildings were almost incessant.
Occasionally they saw a church tower or steeple, that had stood for a
time black against the glowing sky, become suddenly wreathed in
flames, and, after burning for a time, fall with a crash that could
be plainly heard above the general roar.
"Surely such a fire was never seen before!" Captain Dave said.
"Not since Rome was burnt, I should think," Cyril replied.
"How long was that ago, Cyril? I don't remember hearing about it."
"'Tis fifteen hundred years or so since then, Captain Dave; but the
greater part of the city was destroyed, and Rome was then many times
bigger than London. It burnt for three days."
"Well, this is bad enough," Captain Watson said. "Even here the heat
is well-nigh too great to face. Frank, you had better call the crew
up and get all the sails off the yards. Were a burning flake to fall
on them we might find it difficult to extinguish them. When they have
done that, let the men get all the buckets filled with water and
ranged on the deck; and it will be as well to get a couple of hands
in the boat and let them chuck water against this side. We shall have
all the paint blistered off before morning."
So the night passed. Occasionally they went below for a short time,
but they found it impossible to sleep, and were soon up again, and
felt it a relief when the morning began to break.