friend's goods, whose house itself was burned the day after. We parted at
Paul's; he home, and I to Paul's Wharf, where I had appointed a boat to
attend me, and took in Mr. Carcasse and his brother, whom I met in the
streets and carried them below and above bridge to and again to see the
fire, which was now got further, both below and above and no likelihood of
stopping it. Met with the King and Duke of York in their barge, and with
them to Queenhith and there called Sir Richard Browne to them. Their order
was only to pull down houses apace, and so below bridge the water-side;
but little was or could be done, the fire coming upon them so fast. Good
hopes there was of stopping it at the Three Cranes above, and at
Buttolph's Wharf below bridge, if care be used; but the wind carries it
into the City so as we know not by the water-side what it do there. River
full of lighters and boats taking in goods, and good goods swimming in the
water, and only I observed that hardly one lighter or boat in three that
had the goods of a house in, but there was a pair of Virginalls
[The virginal differed from the spinet in being square instead of
triangular in form. The word pair was used in the obsolete sense of
a set, as we read also of a pair of organs. The instrument is
supposed to have obtained its name from young women, playing upon
it.]
in it. Having seen as much as I could now, I away to White Hall by
appointment, and there walked to St. James's Parks, and there met my wife
and Creed and Wood and his wife, and walked to my boat; and there upon the
water again, and to the fire up and down, it still encreasing, and the
wind great. So near the fire as we could for smoke; and all over the
Thames, with one's face in the wind, you were almost burned with a shower
of firedrops. This is very true; so as houses were burned by these drops
and flakes of fire, three or four, nay, five or six houses, one from
another. When we could endure no more upon the water; we to a little
ale-house on the Bankside, over against the 'Three Cranes, and there staid
till it was dark almost, and saw the fire grow; and, as it grew darker,
appeared more and more, and in corners and upon steeples, and between
churches and houses, as far as we could see up the hill of the City, in a
most horrid malicious bloody flame, not like the fine flame of an ordinary
fire. Barbary and her husband away before us. We staid till, it being
darkish, we saw the fire as only one entire arch of fire from this to the
other side the bridge, and in a bow up the hill for an arch of above a
mile long: it made me weep to see it. The churches, houses, and all on
fire and flaming at once; and a horrid noise the flames made, and the
cracking of houses at their ruins. So home with a sad heart, and there
find every body discoursing and lamenting the fire; and poor Tom Hater
come with some few of his goods saved out of his house, which is burned
upon Fish-streets Hall. I invited him to lie at my house, and did receive
his goods, but was deceived in his lying there, the newes coming every
moment of the growth of the fire; so as we were forced to begin to pack up
our owne goods; and prepare for their removal; and did by moonshine (it
being brave dry, and moon: shine, and warm weather) carry much of my goods
into the garden, and Mr. Hater and I did remove my money and iron chests
into my cellar, as thinking that the safest place. And got my bags of
gold into my office, ready to carry away, and my chief papers of accounts
also there, and my tallys into a box by themselves. So great was our
fear, as Sir W. Batten hath carts come out of the country to fetch away
his goods this night. We did put Mr. Hater, poor man, to bed a little;
but he got but very little rest, so much noise being in my house, taking
down of goods.
3rd. About four o'clock in the morning, my Lady Batten sent me a cart to
carry away all my money, and plate, and best things, to Sir W. Rider's at
Bednall-greene. Which I did riding myself in my night-gowne in the cart;
and, Lord! to see how the streets and the highways are crowded with people
running and riding, and getting of carts at any rate to fetch away things.
I find Sir W. Rider tired with being called up all night, and receiving
things from several friends. His house full of goods, and much of Sir W.
Batten's and Sir W. Pen's I am eased at my heart to have my treasure so
well secured. Then home, with much ado to find a way, nor any sleep all
this night to me nor my poor wife. But then and all this day she and I,
and all my people labouring to get away the rest of our things, and did
get Mr. Tooker to get me a lighter to take them in, and we did carry them
(myself some) over Tower Hill, which was by this time full of people's
goods, bringing their goods thither; and down to the lighter, which lay at
next quay, above the Tower Docke. And here was my neighbour's wife,
Mrs.-------,with her pretty child, and some few of her things, which I did
willingly give way to be saved with mine; but there was no passing with
any thing through the postern, the crowd was so great. The Duke of Yorke
of this day by the office, and spoke to us, and did ride with his guard up
and down the City, to keep all quiet (he being now Generall, and having
the care of all). This day, Mercer being not at home, but against her
mistress's order gone to her mother's, and my wife going thither to speak
with W. Hewer, met her there, and was angry; and her mother saying that
she was not a 'prentice girl, to ask leave every time she goes abroad, my
wife with good reason was angry, and, when she came home, bid her be gone
again. And so she went away, which troubled me, but yet less than it
would, because of the condition we are in, fear of coming into in a little
time of being less able to keepe one in her quality. At night lay down a
little upon a quilt of W. Hewer's in the office, all my owne things being
packed up or gone; and after me my poor wife did the like, we having fed
upon the remains of yesterday's dinner, having no fire nor dishes, nor any
opportunity of dressing any thing.
4th. Up by break of day to get away the remainder of my things; which I
did by a lighter at the Iron gate and my hands so few, that it was the
afternoon before we could get them all away. Sir W. Pen and I to
Tower-streete, and there met the fire burning three or four doors beyond
Mr. Howell's, whose goods, poor man, his trayes, and dishes, shovells,
&c., were flung all along Tower-street in the kennels, and people working
therewith from one end to the other; the fire coming on in that narrow
streete, on both sides, with infinite fury. Sir W. Batten not knowing how
to remove his wine, did dig a pit in the garden, and laid it in there; and
I took the opportunity of laying all the papers of my office that I could
not otherwise dispose of. And in the evening Sir W. Pen and I did dig
another, and put our wine in it; and I my Parmazan cheese, as well as my
wine and some other things. The Duke of Yorke was at the office this day,
at Sir W. Pen's; but I happened not to be within. This afternoon, sitting
melancholy with Sir W. Pen in our garden, and thinking of the certain
burning of this office, without extraordinary means, I did propose for the
sending up of all our workmen from Woolwich and Deptford yards (none
whereof yet appeared), and to write to Sir W. Coventry to have the Duke of
Yorke's permission to pull down houses, rather than lose this office,
which would, much hinder, the King's business. So Sir W. Pen he went down
this night, in order to the sending them up to-morrow morning; and I wrote
to Sir W. Coventry about the business, but received no answer. This night
Mrs. Turner (who, poor woman, was removing her goods all this day, good
goods into the garden, and knows not how to dispose of them), and her
husband supped with my wife and I at night, in the office; upon a shoulder
of mutton from the cook's, without any napkin or any thing, in a sad
manner, but were merry. Only now and then walking into the garden, and
saw how horridly the sky looks, all on a fire in the night, was enough to
put us out of our wits; and, indeed, it was extremely dreadful, for it
looks just as if it was at us; and the whole heaven on fire. I after
supper walked in the darke down to Tower-streete, and there saw it all on
fire, at the Trinity House on that side, and the Dolphin Taverne on this
side, which was very near us; and the fire with extraordinary vehemence.
Now begins the practice of blowing up of houses in Tower-streete, those
next the Tower, which at first did frighten people more than anything, but
it stopped the fire where it was done, it bringing down the
[A copy of this letter, preserved among the Pepys MSS. in the
author's own handwriting, is subjoined:
"SIR, The fire is now very neere us as well on Tower Streete as
Fanchurch Street side, and we little hope of our escape but by this
remedy, to ye want whereof we doe certainly owe ye loss of ye City
namely, ye pulling down of houses, in ye way of ye fire. This way
Sir W. Pen and myself have so far concluded upon ye practising, that
he is gone to Woolwich and Deptford to supply himself with men and
necessarys in order to the doeing thereof, in case at his returne
our condition be not bettered and that he meets with his R. Hs.
approbation, which I had thus undertaken to learn of you. Pray
please to let me have this night (at whatever hour it is) what his
R. Hs. directions are in this particular; Sir J. Minnes and Sir W.
Batten having left us, we cannot add, though we are well assured of
their, as well as all ye neighbourhood's concurrence.
"Yr. obedient servnt.
"S. P.
"Sir W. Coventry,
"Septr. 4, 1666."]
houses to the ground in the same places they stood, and then it was easy
to quench what little fire was in it, though it kindled nothing almost. W.
Newer this day went to see how his mother did, and comes late home,
telling us how he hath been forced to remove her to Islington, her house
in Pye-corner being burned; so that the fire is got so far that way, and
all the Old Bayly, and was running down to Fleete-streete; and Paul's is
burned, and all Cheapside. I wrote to my father this night, but the
post-house being burned, the letter could not go.
[J. Hickes wrote to Williamson on September 3rd from the "Golden
Lyon," Red Cross Street Posthouse. Sir Philip [Frowde] and his lady
fled from the [letter] office at midnight for: safety; stayed
himself till 1 am. till his wife and childrens' patience could stay,
no longer, fearing lest they should be quite stopped up; the passage
was so tedious they had much ado to get where they are. The Chester
and Irish, mails have come-in; sends him his letters, knows not how
to dispose of the business ("Calendar of State Papers," 1666-67,
p. 95).]
5th. I lay down in the office again upon W. Hewer's, quilt, being mighty
weary, and sore in my feet with going till I was hardly able to stand.
About two in the morning my wife calls me up and tells me of new cryes of
fire, it being come to Barkeing Church, which is the bottom of our lane. I
up, and finding it so, resolved presently to take her away, and did, and
took my gold, which was about L2350, W. Newer, and Jane, down by
Proundy's boat to Woolwich; but, Lord! what sad sight it was by
moone-light to see, the whole City almost on fire, that you might see it
plain at Woolwich, as if you were by it. There, when I come, I find the
gates shut, but no guard kept at all, which troubled me, because of
discourse now begun, that there is plot in it, and that the French had
done it. I got the gates open, and to Mr. Shelden's, where I locked up my
gold, and charged, my wife and W. Newer never to leave the room without
one of them in it, night, or day. So back again, by the way seeing my
goods well in the lighters at Deptford, and watched well by people. Home;
and whereas I expected to have seen our house on fire, it being now about
seven o'clock, it was not. But to the fyre, and there find greater hopes
than I expected; for my confidence of finding our Office on fire was such,
that I durst not ask any body how it was with us, till I come and saw it
not burned. But going to the fire, I find by the blowing up of houses,
and the great helpe given by the workmen out of the King's yards, sent up
by Sir W. Pen, there is a good stop given to it, as well as at Marke-lane
end as ours; it having only burned the dyall of Barking Church, and part
of the porch, and was there quenched. I up to the top of Barking steeple,
and there saw the saddest sight of desolation that I ever saw; every where
great fires, oyle-cellars, and brimstone, and other things burning. I
became afeard to stay there long, and therefore down again as fast as I
could, the fire being spread as far as I could see it; and to Sir W.
Pen's, and there eat a piece of cold meat, having eaten nothing since
Sunday, but the remains of Sunday's dinner. Here I met with Mr. Young and
Whistler; and having removed all my things, and received good hopes that
the fire at our end; is stopped, they and I walked into the town, and find
Fanchurch-streete, Gracious-streete; and Lumbard-streete all in dust. The
Exchange a sad sight, nothing standing there, of all the statues or
pillars, but Sir Thomas Gresham's picture in the corner. Walked into
Moorefields (our feet ready to burn, walking through the towne among the
hot coles), and find that full of people, and poor wretches carrying their
good there, and every body keeping his goods together by themselves (and a
great blessing it is to them that it is fair weathe for them to keep
abroad night and day); drank there, and paid two-pence for a plain penny
loaf. Thence homeward, having passed through Cheapside and Newgate
Market, all burned, and seen Anthony Joyce's House in fire. And took up
(which I keep by me) a piece of glasse of Mercers' Chappell in the
streete, where much more was, so melted and buckled with the heat of the
fire like parchment. I also did see a poor cat taken out of a hole in the
chimney, joyning to the wall of the Exchange; with, the hair all burned
off the body, and yet alive. So home at night, and find there good hopes
of saving our office; but great endeavours of watching all night, and
having men ready; and so we lodged them in the office, and had drink and
bread and cheese for them. And I lay down and slept a good night about
midnight, though when I rose I heard that there had been a great alarme of
French and Dutch being risen, which proved, nothing. But it is a strange
thing to see how long this time did look since Sunday, having been always
full of variety of actions, and little sleep, that it looked like a week
or more, and I had forgot, almost the day of the week.
6th. Up about five o'clock, and where met Mr. Gawden at the gate of the
office (I intending to go out, as I used, every now and then to-day, to
see how the fire is) to call our men to Bishop's-gate, where no fire had
yet been near, and there is now one broke out which did give great grounds
to people, and to me too, to think that there is some kind of plot
[The terrible disaster which overtook London was borne by the
inhabitants of the city with great fortitude, but foreigners and
Roman Catholics had a bad dime. As no cause for the outbreak of the
fire could be traced, a general cry was raised that it owed its
origin to a plot. In a letter from Thomas Waade to Williamson
(dated "Whitby, Sept. 14th") we read, "The destruction of London by
fire is reported to be a hellish contrivance of the French,
Hollanders, and fanatic party" ("Calendar of State Papers," 1666-67,
p. 124).]
in this (on which many by this time have been taken, and, it hath been
dangerous for any stranger to walk in the streets), but I went with the
men, and we did put it out in a little time; so that that was well again.
It was pretty to see how hard the women did work in the cannells, sweeping
of water; but then they would scold for drink, and be as drunk as devils.
I saw good butts of sugar broke open in the street, and people go and take
handsfull out, and put into beer, and drink it. And now all being pretty
well, I took boat, and over to Southwarke, and took boat on the other side
the bridge, and so to Westminster, thinking to shift myself, being all in
dirt from top to bottom; but could not there find any place to buy a shirt
or pair of gloves, Westminster Hall being full of people's goods, those in
Westminster having removed all their goods, and the Exchequer money put
into vessels to carry to Nonsuch; but to the Swan, and there was trimmed;
and then to White Hall, but saw nobody; and so home. A sad sight to see
how the River looks: no houses nor church near it, to the Temple, where it
stopped. At home, did go with Sir W. Batten, and our neighbour, Knightly
(who, with one more, was the only man of any fashion left in all the
neighbourhood thereabouts, they all removing their goods and leaving their
houses to the mercy of the fire), to Sir R. Ford's, and there dined in an
earthen platter--a fried breast of mutton; a great many of us, but very
merry, and indeed as good a meal, though as ugly a one, as ever I had in
my life. Thence down to Deptford, and there with great satisfaction
landed all my goods at Sir G. Carteret's safe, and nothing missed I could
see, or hurt. This being done to my great content, I home, and to Sir W.
Batten's, and there with Sir R. Ford, Mr. Knightly, and one Withers, a
professed lying rogue, supped well, and mighty merry, and our fears over.
From them to the office, and there slept with the office full of
labourers, who talked, and slept, and walked all night long there. But
strange it was to see Cloathworkers' Hall on fire these three days and
nights in one body of flame, it being the cellar full of oyle.
7th. Up by five o'clock; and, blessed be God! find all well, and by
water to Paul's Wharfe. Walked thence, and saw, all the towne burned, and
a miserable sight of Paul's church; with all the roofs fallen, and the
body of the quire fallen into St. Fayth's; Paul's school also, Ludgate,
and Fleet-street, my father's house, and the church, and a good part of
the Temple the like. So to Creed's lodging, near the New Exchange, and
there find him laid down upon a bed; the house all unfurnished, there
being fears of the fire's coming to them. There borrowed a shirt of him,
and washed. To Sir W. Coventry, at St. James's, who lay without curtains,
having removed all his goods; as the King at White Hall, and every body
had done, and was doing. He hopes we shall have no publique distractions
upon this fire, which is what every body fears, because of the talke of
the French having a hand in it. And it is a proper time for discontents;
but all men's minds are full of care to protect themselves, and save their
goods: the militia is in armes every where. Our fleetes, he tells me,
have been in sight one of another, and most unhappily by fowle weather
were parted, to our great losse, as in reason they do conclude; the Dutch
being come out only to make a shew, and please their people; but in very
bad condition as to stores; victuals, and men. They are at Bullen; and
our fleete come to St. Ellen's. We have got nothing, but have lost one
ship, but he knows not what. Thence to the Swan, and there drank: and so
home, and find all well. My Lord Bruncker, at Sir W. Batten's, and tells
us the Generall is sent for up, to come to advise with the King about
business at this juncture, and to keep all quiet; which is great honour to
him, but I am sure is but a piece of dissimulation. So home, and did give
orders for my house to be made clean; and then down to Woolwich, and there
find all well: Dined, and Mrs. Markham come to see my wife. So I up
again, and calling at Deptford for some things of W. Hewer's, he being
with me, and then home and spent the evening with Sir R. Ford, Mr.
Knightly, and Sir W. Pen at Sir W. Batten's: This day our Merchants first
met at Gresham College, which, by proclamation, is to be their Exchange.
Strange to hear what is bid for houses all up and down here; a friend of
Sir W. Rider's: having L150 for what he used to let for L40 per annum.
Much dispute where the Custome-house shall be thereby the growth of the
City again to be foreseen. My Lord Treasurer, they say, and others; would
have it at the other end of the towne. I home late to Sir W. Pen's, who
did give me a bed; but without curtains or hangings, all being down. So
here I went the first time into a naked bed, only my drawers on; and did
sleep pretty well: but still hath sleeping and waking had a fear of fire
in my heart, that I took little rest. People do all the world over cry
out of the simplicity of my Lord Mayor in generall; and more particularly
in this business of the fire, laying it all upon' him. A proclamation
[On September 5th proclamation was made "ordering that for supply of
the distressed people left destitute by the late dreadful and dismal
fire. . . . great proportions of bread be brought daily, not
only to the former markets, but to those lately ordained; that all
churches, chapels, schools, and public buildings are to be open to
receive the goods of those who know not how to dispose of them." On
September 6th, proclamation ordered "that as the markets are burned
down, markets be held in Bishopsgate Street, Tower Hill, Smithfield,
and Leadenhall Street" ("Calendar of State Papers," 1666-67, pp.
100, 104).]
is come out for markets to be kept at Leadenhall and Mileendgreene, and
several other places about the towne; and Tower-hill, and all churches to
be set open to receive poor people.
8th. Up and with Sir W. Batten and Sir W. Pen by water to White Hall and
they to St. James's. I stopped with Sir G. Carteret to desire him to go
with us, and to enquire after money. But the first he cannot do, and the
other as little, or says, "when we can get any, or what shall we do for
it?" He, it seems, is employed in the correspondence between the City and
the King every day, in settling of things. I find him full of trouble, to
think how things will go. I left him, and to St. James's, where we met
first at Sir W. Coventry's chamber, and there did what business we can,
without any books. Our discourse, as every thing else, was confused. The
fleete is at Portsmouth, there staying a wind to carry them to the Downes,
or towards Bullen, where they say the Dutch fleete is gone, and stays. We
concluded upon private meetings for a while, not having any money to
satisfy any people that may come to us. I bought two eeles upon the
Thames, cost me six shillings. Thence with Sir W. Batten to the Cock-pit,
whither the Duke of Albemarle is come. It seems the King holds him so
necessary at this time, that he hath sent for him, and will keep him here.
Indeed, his interest in the City, being acquainted, and his care in
keeping things quiet, is reckoned that wherein he will be very
serviceable. We to him; he is courted in appearance by every body. He
very kind to us; I perceive he lays by all business of the fleete at
present, and minds the City, and is now hastening to Gresham College, to
discourse with the Aldermen. Sir W. Batten and I home (where met by my
brother John, come to town to see how things are with us), and then
presently he with me to Gresham College; where infinity of people, partly
through novelty to see the new place, and partly to find out and hear what
is become one man of another. I met with many people undone, and more
that have extraordinary great losses. People speaking their thoughts
variously about the beginning of the fire, and the rebuilding; of the
City. Then to Sir W. Batten's, and took my brothet with me, and there
dined with a great company of neighbours; and much good discourse; among
others, of the low spirits of some rich men in the City, in sparing any
encouragement to the, poor people that wrought for the saving their
houses. Among others, Alderman Starling, a very rich man, without;
children, the fire at next door to him in our lane, after our men had
saved his house, did give 2s. 6d. among thirty of them, and did quarrel
with some that would remove the rubbish out of the way of the fire, saying
that they come to steal. Sir W. Coventry told me of another this morning,
in Holborne, which he shewed the King that when it was offered to stop the
fire near his house for such a reward that came but to 2s. 6d. a man among
the neighbours he would, give but 18d. Thence to Bednall Green by coach,
my brother with me, and saw all well there, and fetched away my journall
book to enter for five days past, and then back to the office where I find
Bagwell's wife, and her husband come home. Agreed to come to their house
to-morrow, I sending him away to his ship to-day. To the office and late
writing letters, and then to Sir W. Pen's, my brother lying with me, and
Sir W. Pen gone down to rest himself at Woolwich. But I was much frighted
and kept awake in my bed, by some noise I heard a great while below
stairs; and the boys not coming up to me when I knocked. It was by their
discovery of people stealing of some neighbours' wine that lay in vessels
in the streets. So to sleep; and all well all night.