as to form a wide gap between those left and the flames," replied
Leonard.
"A short and summary process, truly," replied the king; "but it would
occasion great waste of property, and might be attended with other
serious consequences."
"Not half so much property will be destroyed as if the slower and
seemingly safer course of pulling down the houses is pursued," rejoined
Leonard. "That experiment has been tried and failed."
"I am of the young man's opinion," observed the Earl of Craven.
"And I," added Pepys. "Better lose half the city than the whole. As it
is, your majesty is not safe in your palace."
"Why, you do not think it can reach Whitehall?" cried the king, rising,
and walking to the window. "How say you, brother," he added, to the Duke
of York--"shall we act upon this young man's suggestion, and order the
wholesale demolition of the houses which he recommends?"
"I would not advise your majesty to do so--at least, not without
consideration," answered the duke. "This is a terrible fire, no doubt;
but the danger may be greatly exaggerated, and if any ill consequences
should result from the proposed scheme, the blame will be entirely laid
upon your majesty."
"I care not for that," replied the king, "provided I feel assured it is
for the best."
"The plan would do incalculably more mischief than the fire itself,"
observed Lord Argentine, "and would be met by the most determined
opposition on the part of the owners of the habitations condemned to
destruction. Whole streets will have to be blown up, and your majesty
will easily comprehend the confusion and damage that will ensue."
"Lord Argentine has expressed my sentiments exactly," said the Duke of
York.
"There is nothing for it, then, but for your majesty to call for a
fiddle, and amuse yourself, like Nero, while your city is burning,"
remarked Rochester, sarcastically.
"Another such jest, my lord," rejoined the king, sternly, "and it shall
cost you your liberty. I will go upon the river instantly, and view the
fire myself, and then decide what course shall be adopted."
"There are rumours that incendiaries are abroad, your majesty," remarked
Argentine, glancing maliciously at Leonard--"it is not unlikely that he
who lighted the fire should know how to extinguish it."
"His lordship says truly," rejoined Leonard. "There _are_ incendiaries
abroad, and the chief of them was taken by my hand, and lodged in
Newgate, where he lies for examination."
"Ah!" exclaimed the king, eagerly; "did you catch the miscreant in the
fact?"
"No, my liege," replied Leonard; "but he came to me a few hours before
the outbreak of the fire, intimating that he was in possession of a plot
against the city--a design so monstrous, that your majesty would give
any reward to the discloser of it. He proposed to reveal this plot to me
on certain terms."
"And you accepted them?" cried the king.
"No, my liege," replied Leonard; "I refused them, and would have secured
him, but he escaped me at that time. I afterwards discovered him among
the spectators near the fire, and caused his arrest."
"And who is this villain?" cried the king.
"I must refer your majesty to Lord Argentine," replied Leonard.
"Do you know anything of the transaction, my lord?" said Charles,
appealing to him.
"Not I, your majesty," said Argentine, vainly endeavouring to conceal
his anger and confusion. "The knave has spoken falsely."
"He shall rue it, if he has done so," rejoined the monarch. "What has
the man you speak of to do with Lord Argentine?" he added to Leonard.
"He is his father," was the reply.
Charles looked at Lord Argentine, and became convinced from the altered
expression of his countenance that the truth had been spoken. He,
therefore, arose, and motioning him to follow him, led him into the
recess of a window, where they remained in conversation for some
minutes. While this was passing, the Earl of Rochester observed, in an
undertone to Leonard, "You have made a mortal foe of Lord Argentine, but
I will protect you."
"I require no other protection than I can afford myself, my lord,"
rejoined Leonard, coldly.
Shortly after this, Charles stepped forward with a graver aspect than
before, and said, "Before proceeding to view this conflagration, I must
give some directions in reference to it. To you, my Lord Craven, whose
intrepidity I well know, I intrust the most important post. You will
station yourself at the east of the conflagration, and if you find it
making its way to the Tower, as I hear is the case, check it at all
hazards. The old fortress must be preserved at any risk. But do not
resort to gunpowder unless you receive an order from me accompanied by
my signet-ring. My Lords Hollis and Ashley, you will have the care of
the north-west of the city. Station yourselves near Newgate Market.
Rochester and Arlington, your posts will be at Saint Paul's. Watch over
the august cathedral. I would not have it injured for half my kingdom.
Brother," he added to the Duke of York, "you will accompany me in my
barge--and you, Mr. Pepys. You, young man," to Leonard, "can follow in
my train."
"Has your majesty no post for me?" asked Argentine.
"No," replied Charles, turning coldly from him.
"Had not your majesty better let him have the custody of your gaol of
Newgate?" remarked Rochester, sarcastically; "he has an interest in its
safe keeping."
Lord Argentine turned deadly pale, but he made no answer. Attended by
the Duke of York and Mr. Pepys, and followed at a respectful distance by
Leonard, the king then passed through the ante-room, and descending the
grand staircase, traversed a variety of passages, until he reached the
private stairs communicating with the river. At the foot lay the royal
barge, in which he embarked with his train. Charles appeared greatly
moved by the sight of the thousands of his houseless subjects, whom he
encountered in his passage down the Thames, and whenever a feeble shout
was raised for him, he returned it with a blessing. When nearly opposite
Queenhithe, he commanded the rowers to pause. The conflagration had made
formidable progress since Leonard' beheld it a few hours back, and had
advanced, nearly as far as the Still-yard on the river-side, while it
was burning upwards through thick ranks of houses, almost as far as
Cannon-street. The roaring of the flames was louder than ever--and the
crash of falling habitations, and the tumult and cries of the affrighted
populace, yet more terrific.
Charles gazed at the appalling spectacle like one who could not believe
his senses, and it was some time before the overwhelming truth could
force itself upon him. Tears then started to his eyes, and, uttering an
ejaculation of despair, he commanded the rowers to make instantly for
the shore.
V. HOW LEONARD SAVED THE KING'S LIFE.
The royal barge landed at Queenhithe, and Charles instantly
disembarking, proceeded on foot, and at a pace that compelled, his
attendants to move quickly, to keep up with him, to Thames-street. Here,
however, the confusion was so great, owing to the rush of people, and
the number of vehicles employed in the removal of goods, that he was
obliged to come to a halt. Fortunately, at this moment, a company of the
train-bands rode up, and their leader dismounting, offered his horse to
the king, who instantly sprang into the saddle, and scarcely waiting
till the Duke of York could be similarly accommodated, forced his way
through the crowd as far as Brewer-lane, where his progress was stopped
by the intense heat. A little more than a hundred yards from this point,
the whole street was on fire, and the flames bursting from the windows
and roofs of the houses, with a roar like that which might be supposed
to be produced by the forges of the Cyclops, united in a vast blazing
arch overhead. It chanced, too, that in some places cellars filled with
combustible materials extended under the street, and here the ground
would crack, and jets of fire shoot forth like the eruption of a
volcano. The walls and timbers of the houses at some distance from the
conflagration were scorched and blistered with the heat, and completely
prepared for ignition; overhead being a vast and momentarily increasing
cloud of flame-coloured smoke, which spread all over the city, filling
it as with a thick mist, while the glowing vault above looked, as Evelyn
expresses it, "like the top of a burning oven."
Two churches, namely, Allhallows the Great and Allhallows the Less, were
burnt down in the king's sight, and the lofty spire of a third, Saint
Lawrence Poulteney, had just caught fire, and looked like a flame-tipped
spear. After contemplating this spectacle for some time, Charles roused
himself from the state of stupefaction into which he was thrown, and
determined, if possible, to arrest the further progress of the devouring
element along the river-side, commanded all the houses on the west of
Dowgate Dock to be instantly demolished. A large body of men were
therefore set upon this difficult and dangerous, and, as it proved,
futile task. Another party were ordered to the same duty on
Dowgate-hill; and the crash of tumbling walls and beams was soon added
to the general uproar, while clouds of dust darkened the air. It was
with some difficulty that a sufficient space could be kept clear for
carrying these operations into effect; and long before they were
half-completed, Charles had the mortification of finding the fire
gaining ground so rapidly, that they must prove ineffectual. Word was
brought at this juncture that a fresh fire had broken out in Elbow-lane,
and while the monarch was listening to this dreary intelligence, a
fearful cry was heard near the river, followed, the next moment, by a
tumultuous rush of persons from that quarter. The fire, as if in scorn,
had leapt across Dowgate Dock, and seizing upon the half-demolished
houses, instantly made them its prey. The rapidity with which the
conflagration proceeded was astounding, and completely baffled all
attempts to check it. The wind continued blowing as furiously as ever,
nor was there the slightest prospect of its abatement. All the king's
better qualities were called into play by the present terrible crisis.
With a courage and devotion that he seldom displayed, he exposed himself
to the greatest risk, personally assisting at all the operations he
commanded; while his humane attention to the sufferers by the calamity
almost reconciled them to their deplorable situation. His movements were
almost as rapid as those of the fire itself. Riding up Cannon-street,
and from thence by Sweeting's-lane, to Lombard-street, and so on by
Fenchurch-street to Tower-street, he issued directions all the way,
checking every disturbance, and causing a band of depredators, who had
broken into the house of a wealthy goldsmith, to be carried off to
Newgate. Arrived in Tower-street, he found the Earl of Craven and his
party stationed a little beyond Saint Dunstan's in the East.
All immediate apprehensions in this quarter appeared at an end. The
church had been destroyed, as before mentioned, but several houses in
its vicinity having been demolished, the fire had not extended eastward.
Satisfied that the Tower was in no immediate danger, the king retraced
his course, and encountering the lord mayor in Lombard-street, sharply
reproved him for his want of zeal and discretion.
"I do not deserve your majesty's reproaches," replied the lord mayor.
"Ever since the fire broke out I have not rested an instant, and am
almost worn to death with anxiety and fatigue. I am just returned from
Guildhall, where a vast quantity of plate belonging to the city
companies has been deposited. Lord! Lord! what a fire this is!"
"You are chiefly to blame for its getting so much ahead," replied the
king, angrily. "Had you adopted vigorous measures at the outset, it
might have easily been got under. I hear no water was to be obtained.
How was that?"
"It is a damnable plot, your majesty, designed by the Papists, or the
Dutch, or the French--I don't know which--perhaps all three," rejoined
the lord mayor; "and it appears that the cocks of all the pipes at the
waterworks at Islington were turned, while the pipes and conduits in the
city were empty. This is no accidental fire, your majesty."
"So I find," replied the king; "but it will be time enough to inquire
into its origin hereafter. Meantime, we must act, and energetically, or
we shall be equally as much to blame as the incendiaries. Let a
proclamation be made, enjoining all those persons who have been driven
from their homes by the fire to proceed, with such effects as they have
preserved, to Moorfields, where their wants shall be cared for."
"It shall be made instantly, your majesty," replied the lord mayor.
"Your next business will be to see to the removal of all the wealth from
the goldsmiths' houses in this street, and in Gracechurch-street, to
some places of security, Guildhall, or the Royal Exchange, for
instance," continued the king.
"Your majesty's directions shall be implicitly obeyed," replied the lord
mayor.
"You will then pull down all the houses to the east of the fire,"
pursued the king. "Get all the men you can muster; and never relax your
exertions till you have made a wide and clear breach between the flames
and their prey."
"I will--I will, your majesty," groaned the lord mayor.
"About it, then," rejoined the king; and striking spurs into his horse,
he rode off with his train.
He now penetrated one of the narrow alleys leading to the Three Cranes
in the Vintry, where he ascended to the roof of the habitation, that he
might view the fire. He saw that it was making such rapid advances
towards him, that it must very soon reach the building on which he
stood, and, half suffocated with the smoke, and scorched with the
fire-drops, he descended.
Not long after this, Waterman's Hall was discovered to be on fire; and,
stirred by the sight, Charles made fresh efforts to check the progress
of the conflagration by demolishing more houses. So eagerly did he
occupy himself in the task, that his life had well-nigh fallen a
sacrifice to his zeal. He was standing below a building which the
workmen were unroofing, when all at once the whole of the upper part of
the wall gave way, dragging several heavy beams with it, and would have
infallibly crushed him, if Leonard, who was stationed behind him, had
not noticed the circumstance, and rushing forward with the greatest
promptitude, dragged him out of harm's way. An engineer, with whom the
king was conversing at the time of the accident, was buried in the
ruins, and when taken out was found fearfully mutilated and quite dead.
Both Charles and his preserver were covered with dust and rubbish, and
Leonard received a severe blow on the shoulder from a falling brick.
On recovering from the shock, which for some moments deprived him of the
power of speech, Charles inquired for his deliverer, and, on being shown
him, said, with a look of surprise and pleasure, "What, is it you, young
man? I am glad of it. Depend, upon it, I shall not forget the important
service you have rendered me."
"If he remembers it, it will be the first time he has ever so exercised
his memory," observed Chiffinch, in a loud whisper to Leonard. "I advise
you, as a friend, not to let his gratitude cool."
Undeterred by this late narrow escape, Charles ordered fresh houses to
be demolished, and stimulated the workmen to exertion by his personal
superintendence of their operations. He commanded Leonard to keep
constantly near him, laughingly observing, "I shall feel safe while you
are by. You have a better eye for a falling house than any of my
attendants."
Worn out at length with fatigue, Charles proceeded, with the Duke of
York and his immediate attendants, to Painters' Hall, in little
Trinity-lane, in quest of refreshment, where a repast was hastily
prepared for him, and he sat down to it with an appetite such as the
most magnificent banquet could not, under other circumstances, have
provoked. His hunger satisfied, he despatched messengers to command the
immediate attendance of the lord mayor, the sheriffs, and aldermen; and
when they arrived, he thus addressed them:--"My lord mayor and
gentlemen, it has been recommended to me by this young man," pointing to
Leonard, "that the sole way of checking the further progress of this
disastrous conflagration, which threatens the total destruction of our
city, will be by blowing up the houses with gunpowder, so as to form a
wide gap between the flames and the habitations yet remaining unseized.
This plan will necessarily involve great destruction of property, and
may, notwithstanding all the care that can be adopted, be attended with
some loss of life; but I conceive it will be effectual. Before ordering
it, however, to be put into execution, I desire to learn your opinion of
it. How say you, my lord mayor and gentlemen? Does the plan meet with
your approbation?"
"I pray your majesty to allow me to confer for a moment with my
brethren," replied the lord mayor, cautiously, "before I return an
answer. It is too serious a matter to decide upon at once."
"Be it so," replied the king.
And the civic authorities withdrew with the king. Leonard heard, though
he did not dare to remark upon it, that the Duke of York leaned forward
as the lord mayor passed him, and whispered in his ear, "Take heed what
you do. He only desires to shift the responsibility of the act from his
own shoulders to yours."
"If they assent," said the king to Leonard, "I will place you at the
head of a party of engineers."
"I beseech your majesty neither to regard me nor them," replied Leonard.
"Use the authority it has pleased Heaven to bestow upon you for the
preservation of the city, and think and act for yourself, or you will
assuredly regret your want of decision. It has been my fortune, with the
assistance of God, to be the humble instrument of accomplishing your
majesty's deliverance from peril, and I have your royal word that you
will not forget it."
"Nor will I," cried the king, hastily.
"Then suffer the petition I now make to you to prevail," cried Leonard,
falling on his knees. "Be not influenced by the opinion of the lord
mayor and his brethren, whose own interests may lead them to oppose the
plan; but, if you think well of it, instantly adopt it."
Charles looked irresolute, but might have yielded, if the Duke of York
had not stepped forward. "Your majesty had better not act too
precipitately," said the duke. "Listen to the counsels of your prudent
advisers. A false step in such a case will be irretrievable."
"Nay, brother," rejoined the king, "I see no particular risk in it,
after all, and I incline towards the young man's opinion."
"At least, hear what they have got to say," rejoined the duke. "And here
they come. They have not been long in deliberation."
"The result of it may be easily predicted," said Leonard, rising.
As Leonard had foreseen, the civic authorities were adverse to the plan.
The lord mayor in the name of himself and his brethren, earnestly
solicited the king to postpone the execution of his order till all other
means of checking the progress of the conflagration had been tried, and
till such time, at least, as the property of the owners of the houses to
be destroyed could be removed. He further added, that it was the
unanimous opinion of himself and his brethren, that the plan was fraught
with great peril to the safety of the citizens, and that they could not
bring themselves to assent to it. If, therefore, his majesty chose to
adopt it, they must leave the responsibility with him.
"I told your majesty how it would be," observed the Duke of York,
triumphantly.
"I am sorry to find you are right, brother," replied the king, frowning.
"We are overruled, you see, friend," he added to Leonard.
"Your majesty has signed the doom of your city," rejoined Leonard,
mournfully.
"I trust not--I trust not," replied Charles, hastily, and with an uneasy
shrug of the shoulder. "Fail not to remind me when all is over of the
obligation I am under to you."
"Your majesty has refused the sole boon I desired to have granted,"
rejoined Leonard.
"And do you not see the reason, friend?" returned the king. "These
worthy and wealthy citizens desire to remove their property. Their
arguments are unanswerable. I _must_ give them time to do it. But we
waste time here," he added, rising. "Remember," to Leonard, "my debt is
not discharged. And I command you, on pain of my sovereign displeasure,
not to omit to claim its payment."
"I will enter it in my memorandum-book, and will put your majesty in
mind of it at the fitting season," observed Chiffinch, who had taken a
great fancy to Leonard.
The king smiled good-humouredly, and quitting the hall with his
attendants, proceeded to superintend the further demolition of houses.
He next visited all the posts, saw that the different noblemen were at
their appointed stations, and by his unremitting exertions, contrived to
restore something like order to the tumultuous streets. Thousands of men
were now employed in different quarters in pulling down houses, and the
most powerful engines of war were employed in the work. The confusion
that attended these proceedings is indescribable. The engineers and
workmen wrought in clouds of dust and smoke, and the crash of falling
timber and walls was deafening. In a short time, the upper part of
Cornhill was rendered wholly impassable, owing to the heaps of rubbish;
and directions were given to the engineers to proceed to the Poultry,
and demolish the houses as far as the Conduit in Cheapside, by which
means it was hoped that the Royal Exchange would be saved.
Meanwhile, all the wealthy goldsmiths and merchants in Lombard-street
and Gracechurch-street had been actively employed in removing all their
money, plate, and goods, to places of security. A vast quantity was
conveyed to Guildhall, as has been stated, and the rest to different
churches and halls remote from the scene of conflagration. But in spite
of all their caution, much property was carried off by the depredators,
and amongst others by Chowles and Judith, who contrived to secure a mass
of plate, gold, and jewels, that satisfied even their rapacious souls.
While this was passing in the heart of the burning city, vast crowds
were streaming out of its gates, and encamping themselves, in pursuance
of the royal injunction, in Finsbury Fields and Spitalfields. Others
crossed the water to Southwark, and took refuge in Saint George's
Fields; and it was a sad and touching sight to see all these families
collected without shelter or food, most of whom a few hours before were
in possession of all the comforts of life, but were now reduced to the
condition of beggars.