to conceive the fire, which devoured, after an incredible manner, houses, furniture, and everything. Here we saw the Thames covered with goods floating, all the barges and boats laden with what some had time and courage to save; as, on the other, the carts, &c., carrying out to the fields, which for many miles were strewed with movables of all sorts, and tents erecting to shelter both people and what goods they could get away. Oh the miserable and calamitous spectacle! such as haply the world had not seen the like since the foundation of it, nor be outdone till the universal conflagration. All the sky was of a fiery aspect, like the top of a burning oven, the light seen above forty miles round about for many nights. God grant my eyes may never behold the like, now seeing above 10,000 houses all in one flame! the noise, and cracking, and thunder of the impetuous flames, the shrieking of women and children, the hurry of people, the fall of towers, houses, and churches was like an hideous storm, and the air all about so hot and inflamed that at last one was not able to approach it, so that they were forced to stand still and let the flames burn on, which they did for near two miles in length and one in breadth. The clouds of smoke were dismal, and reached upon computation near fifty miles in length. Thus I left it this afternoon burning, a resemblance of Sodom or the last day. London was, but is no

more !'

The first shock over, the courage of Englishmen was restored to panic-stricken London, and energetic measures were at once adopted to crush the terrible foe that had so

suddenly and with such malignant force made its presence felt. Constables were stationed at Temple Bar, Clifford's Inn, Fetter Lane, Shoe Lane, and Cow Lane. At each of these five posts soldiers were on guard under the command of a 'good and careful officer and three gentlemen,' who had power to grant one shilling to such as had been diligent in putting out the flames all night. Five pounds in bread, cheese, and beer, were allowed to the men at each post. The trained bands were called out to protect the people's goods in Lincoln's Inn Fields, Gray's Inn Fields, Hatton Garden, and St. Giles's Fields, and a 'great officer' was told off to see that these orders were properly executed.1 Instructions were sent to the magistrates for Middlesex to procure workmen and tools; the militia of Middlesex, Surrey, and Hertfordshire were called out, for prevention of unhappy consequences;' and the crisis was considered so dangerous that the presence of Monk, Duke of Albemarle, who was in command of the fleet, was keenly desired by the agitated Londoners. If my Lord General,' writes Lord Arlington to Sir Thomas Clifford, who was then with the fleet, expecting to give battle to the Dutch,2 'could see the condition we are in, I am confident, and so is everybody else, he would think it more honour to be called to this occasion than to be stayed in the fleet, where it is possible he may not have an opportunity of fighting the enemy; but here it is certain he will have it in his hands to give the King his kingdom a

1 State Papers, Domestic, September 3, 1666.

2 Ibid. September 4, 1666.

second time, and the world see therein the value the King makes of him.' Monk complied with the royal wishes, but the fire was extinguished before his return; in his capacity of Lord Lieutenant of Middlesex he however assisted in the subsequent precautions to restore order.

To aid the distressed and to open storehouses for the reception of goods, a proclamation was now issued, ordering that for the supply of the destitute bread was to be distributed gratuitously at the markets held in Bishopsgate Street, Tower Hill, Smithfield, and Leadenhall Streetthe ordinary markets having been destroyed—and that all churches, chapels, schools, and public buildings were to be thrown open to receive the goods of those persons who did not know how to dispose of them.1 No difficulty was experienced in obtaining volunteers to help in extinguishing the flames the whole population was knit together by the closest of all ties, that of selfish fear. No one knew but that his own house might be the next victim, and the consequence was, that men of all ranks hastened to contribute their personal efforts to quench the fire. The King and his brother were most active during this anxious time. and the Duke of York,' we are told,2 'frequently exposed their persons with few attendants, sometimes even intermixing with those who laboured in the business.'

:

'He

But it was in the removal of his hardly-saved goods that the citizen was most perplexed. The villages around the

1 State Papers, Domestic, September 5, 1666.

2 Ibid. September 8, 1666.

City-Kingsland, Hackney, Highgate, Edgware, Finchley, and other suburbs-were thronged with rich and poor, guarding the different household goods they had managed to snatch from the avarice of the flames. It was the object of all who had been fortunate enough in saving any property to have it at once carried to a place of security; to effect this was, however, no easy task. Labour was in such demand, and vehicles of any description were so scarce, that 'four pounds a load to a carter, and ten shillings a day to a porter,' were deemed small wages.1 From the numerous petitions presented to the King for relief, to be found among the State Papers, we can form some idea of the misery and distress which followed in the wake of this wholesale wrecking of property. The parish churches were destroyed, yet the poor were thrown upon the hands of the clergy, and clamoured for relief. The clothiers of Coventry were ruined, for 'their whole estate of cloth' had been stored in the City warehouses. Bookbinders, printers, and artificers of all descriptions had lost their entire stock-in-trade, and were left completely destitute. Ships heavily laden with goods in the docks and the river had been set on fire, and their captains, considering that they had a claim on the Government, petitioned the Council for help. Landlords whose houses had been gutted by the flames were beggared. Aldermen and merchants, whose cellars had been stocked with valuable produce, found themselves, within the short space of three days, deprived of the fruits of a lifetime of anxious and 1 State Papers, Domestic, September 6, 1666.

honest toil. On all sides we read of nothing but want, ruin, and prayer for relief. M. Leroy, jeweller, has had great losses on the fire, and wants to be paid for a diamond ring of the Countess of Castlemaine.' John Ogilby, bookseller, asks for a licence to import paper largely from France, to replace stock, destroyed after twenty years spent in setting forth several books in a more noble and heroic way than hath been heretofore done in England.' Nathaniel Hubert petitions for 'an order to the Admiralty Court to take him from Newgate prison, where he lies perishing, and send him to sea, to which he was condemned because in removing the goods of one Serskall during the fire, receiving no reward, he detained goods value 3s. 6d., since restored.' One disinterested person, anxious to make a private claim conducive to public utility, sends in a 'Proposal to prevent mischief from aliens, who are suspected to have had a hand in burning the City, by a grant to the writer, on consideration of his sad condition after represented, of a patent whereby no foreigner would remain a night without full information whence he came, where he lodges, &c., and the same of subjects not at their own homes, so that robberies, murders, and other mischiefs may be prevented or discovered.'1

The only persons who derived benefit from the calamity were those who had nothing to lose. The beggars, the cutpurses, the predatory tramps, the nocturnal prowlers availed themselves to the full of the opportunities which the darkness and desolation around now offered them. They pilfered

1 State Papers, Domestic, September 1666.