London, Volume 1

Knight, Charles

1841

The Monument.

The Monument.

 

 

 

In the

Description of the Monument,

sold by its keeper, we are told the view from the top

is extremely fine and

extensive

, and in fact not to be equalled;

and no doubt the prospect is correctly described : a matter of not very common occurrence. In provokingly close neighbourhood to the foregoing passage we find a statement of the hours of admission, from which it appears the Monument is open from in the morning from Lady-day to Michaelmas-day, and the remainder of the year from , till sunset. Thus, the only period when London can be properly seen, that of sunrise, when, in the noble lines of Wordsworth,--

Earth has not anything to show more fair.

Dull would he be of soul who could pass by

A sight so touching in its majesty.

This city now doth like a garment wear

The beauty of the morning: silent, bare,

Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie

Open unto the fields and to the sky,

All bright and glittering in the smokeless air!

430

This period is carefully shut out; and we can only look at the great metropolis through the dense and discoloured medium of the smoke arising from the habitations of millions of people. Well, until the Corporation in its goodness shall direct some alteration, we must make the best of the matter as it is; and so we are now ascending with many a pause the spiral staircase, with its black marble steps, which leads to the summit. This is well lighted in the base by or large openings, and above by narrow slits in the wall. The breadth of the interior, feet from wall to wall, appears somewhat surprising to who sees it for the time, and has formed his notions of it from the exterior view. We are still ascending, and now the steps are growing sensibly shorter, the walls approach nearer to each other, we are not far from the top. With renewed vigour we are about to run up the little remaining distance, when the attendant lays his stick across in front to debar all advances without him. This conduct he explains by stating that, in consequence of the recent cases of suicide (which every will remember), he has imposed on him the duty of being always present when there are any visitors on the balcony. We have gained the top at last, and what a scene is before, around, beneath us! The wind is blowing freshly and vigorously, and, to add to the self-possession of the visitor, the attendant encouragingly observes he would not stand there for a trifle if the railings were absent. With a shiver we assent to the pertinency of the remark; and placing our back for greater safety against the continuation of the pillar in the centre, and reminding ourselves that it is true that the very edifice itself is, as has sometimes been considered, dangerous, and that the idea arose from the fact of the Monument having been at used for astronomical observations, for which it was soon found unfit from the vibrations natural to such an erection, however secure in its build, we commence our brief survey. Though the view is not, and cannot be under such an atmosphere, very extensive, it is that (out of London) the world cannot parallel. It is not beautiful--that sea of house-tops, with and countless other churches and public buildings rising up from its surface as from so many islands;--it is not sublime, in the physical idea of the words;--yet

dull

indeed

would he be of soul

in whose mind no sense of beauty and sublimity was raised as he gazed on that wonderful congregation of human homes.

The door from the staircase to the balcony faces the east; in that direction therefore we are now sending our inquiring glance. The Tower, with its great keep, is the object of attention, of which we remember Fitz-Stephen says,

the mortar of its foundation was tempered with the blood of beasts.

To the left of the Tower the long facade of the Mint arrests the eye, whilst to the right aye see the roof of the , and the tiers of shipping moored in far away into the distance. Near, and directly in front of us, is the fairy-looking spire of St. Dunstan's in the East, of the many churches we see around whose history is connected with that of the Monument by a close tie, as having arisen like the latter from the ashes of the Great Fire. Beyond, interminable lines of docks are dimly descried, and on a clear day the hills of Kent, or miles off. On the other side of the river a bright column of smoke and the sharp whistle of the engine direct us to the train of the Greenwich Railway just starting. Turning the corner of the pillar, we behold on the south

431

the countless chimneys of the breweries and other manufactories of rising up against the background of the Surrey hills, and the lofty piles of warehouses which edge the river bank, over of which the church of St. Mary Overies rears its lofty and proud-looking tower, as though indignant at the unfitness of its humbler neighbours for such antique and romance-honoured walls. The bridges, those glorious architectural triumphs, and the curving Thames which they bestride, form a highly picturesque feature from the Monument. There is , the youngest, and perhaps the noblest of the whole, with the Fishmongers' Hall at its foot; and Blackfriars in a tolerably straight line; then comes Waterloo crossing the curve; and beyond, the Thames, with the black sluggish barges so characteristic of this part of the river, is lost to our smoke-bedimmed vision. But though the bridge of is invisible, not so its famous Abbey: there it stands, with its dark body and lofty towers advanced city-wards, as if to defend its sacred precincts from the inroads of irreligion and wickedness, ever rife in populous places. But the great feature of the scene is the view westwards of . Its vast size and noble proportions are perhaps from no other spot so strikingly developed. Instead of looking down upon it, as we do, or appear to do, upon every other object, we have rather the sense of looking up to it even from this elevation of feet. Neither does the mass of houses around it appear at all to lessen its height or form. It might stand upon them; so grandly does it appear to rise--base, cupola, and cross-above all obstructions. On the north there is little to attract attention: churches and house-roofs, house-roofs and churches, extend from the farthest point of sight down to the base of the column on which we stand, and require no more particular notice; unless we may just mention that, among the other buildings particularly conspicuous, stand the lofty to the left, and the tall tower of the Railway to the right. We may conclude this hasty sketch of our view from the Monument on a gusty August afternoon by or general remarks. What has been called the natural basin of London may thence be seen very clearly, although its edges are not distinctly definable in some parts. Looking round from , we have Highgate, Hampstead, the elevated land to the left of , the Surrey and Kent hills. And nearly the whole of this vast area is occupied by London! for few indeed are the spaces vacant of houses which the eye can detect even from the balcony of the Monument. How different would have been the view presented from the same spot prior to the erection of the Monument, and the event which it commemorates, years ago, had there then been any means of obtaining such an elevation; when , Hackney, , and were suburban villages, with many a pleasant field between them and London; when and showed more trees than habitations; and when was a long building with transepts projecting from the centre, north and south, and with a square tower rising upwards at the point of their intersection! A and still more extraordinary view has yet to be mentioned--the view which met the eye of the well-known diarist Pepys, when he went up to the top of Barking Church, and there saw the

saddest sight of desolation

perhaps ever beheld. But let us not anticipate.

It was on the

Lord's Day,

says Pepys, the , that

432

 

some of our maids sitting up late last night to get things ready against our feast to-day, Jane called us up about

three

in the morning to tell us of a great fire they saw in the city. So I rose and slipped on my night-gown, and went to the window; and th

6

ught it to be on the back-side of

Mark Lane

at the farthest, but, being unused to such fires as followed, I thought it far enough off; and so went to bed again, and to sleep. About

seven

rose again to dress myself, and then looked out at the window, and saw the fire not so much as it was, and further off.

By and by Jane comes and tells me that she hears that above

three hundred

houses have been burned down to-night by the fire we saw, and that it is now burning down all Fish Street, by

London Bridge

. So I made myself ready presently, and walked to the Tower, and there up upon

one

of the high places, Sir J. Robinson's little son going up with me; and there I did see the houses at that end of the bridge all on fire, and an infinite great fire on this and the other side the end of the bridge.

The conflagration, which in so short a space had exhibited its destructive character, broke out some time after midnight, in the house of Farryner, the King's baker, in . This person stated, in his evidence before a Committee of the , that he had, after o'clock on Saturday night, gone through every room, and found no fire but in chimney, where the room was paved with bricks, which fire he diligently. raked up in embers. As a matter of fact, this was all he could state: as to his opinions, he expressed himself as decidedly satisfied that his house must have been purposely fired. Whatever its origin, the progress of the fire was most startling,--we should say wonderful, but that the construction of the houses-generally timber, pitched over on the outside--the thatched roofs, and the narrowness of the streets, where the buildings of the opposite sides almost touched each other, were all evidently calculated to facilitate in the very highest degree the ravages of the fearful element. Nor was this all. The month of August had been characterised by an extraordinary drought, and the timber of the houses had been as it were half burnt already by the continual heat; and lastly, during nearly the whole time the fire lasted, a furious east wind blew; making in all such an unhappy conjunction of circumstances, that we need not wonder that other than pious people looked with fear and trembling on the event, as some more than ordinary visitation of an offended Deity.

The then Lord Mayor, on whose steadiness, judgment, and boldness so much depended, appears to have been unequal to the occasion; and thus, the few hours being lost without any decisive measures, all was lost. Early in the forenoon Pepys went to , and received from the King a command to bid the Mayor

spare no houses, but pull down before the fire every way.

After long search, Pepys

met my Lord Mayor in

Cannon Street

like a mal spent, with a handkerchief about his neck. To the King's message he cried, like a fainting woman,

Lord, what can I do? I am spent; people will not obey me. I have been pulling down houses; but the fire overtakes us faster than we can do it;

that he needed no more soldiers; and that, for himself, he must go and refresh himself, having been up all night. So he left me, and I him, and walked home; seeing people almost distracted, and no manner of means used to quench the fire, The houses too so very thick thereabouts, and full of matter for

burning, as pitch and tar, in

Thames Street

; and warehouses of oil, and wines, and brandy, and other things.

Soon after he

met with the King and Duke of York in their barge, and with them to

Queenhithe

River full of lighters and boats taking in goods, and goods swimming in the water; and I observed that hardly

one

lighter or boat in

three

that had the goods of a house in, but there was a pair of virginals in it.

Pepys's observing eye noticed also that the

poor pigeons were loth to leave their houses, but hovered about the windows and balconies till they burned their wings and fell down.

In the afternoon Pepys is on the

water again, and to the fire, up and down, it still increasing, and the wind great. So near the fire as we could for smoke; and all over the Thames, with

one

's faces in the wind, you were almost burned with a shower of fire-drops. 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 alehouse on the

Bankside

(

Southwark

), over against the

Three

Cranes, and there staid till it was almost dark, 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....

London during the Great Fire, from the Bankside, Southwark.

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 peculiar form of the great body of flame is also referred to by the Rev. T. Vincent, in his tract called

God's terrible Advice to the City by Plague and Fire,

who says finely,

The burning was then in fashion of a bow; a dreadful bow it was, such as mine eyes never before had seen;

a bow which had God's arrow in it with a flaming point.

Evelyn, who, like Pepys, Was an eye-witness, and described only what he saw,

434

was also at the , , but later in the evening, when he beheld an awful picture.

I saw,

he says,

the whole south part of the City burning, from

Cheapside

to the Thames, and all along

Cornhill

(for it likewise kindled back against the wind as well as forward),

Tower Street

,

Fenchurch Street

, Gracious (

Gracechurch) Street

, and so along to Baynard's Castle, and was taking hold of

St. Paul's church

, to which the scaffolds contributed exceedingly. The conflagration was so universal, and the people so astonished, that from the beginning, I know not by what despondency or fate, they hardly stirred to quench it; so that there was nothing heard or seen but crying out and lamentation, running about like distracted creatures, without at all attempting to save even their goods; such a strange consternation there was upon them, so as it burned, both in breadth and length, the churches, public halls, Exchange, hospitals, monuments, and ornaments, leaping after a prodigious manner from house to house and street to street, at great distances from

one

to the other; for the heat, with a long set of fair and warm weather, had even ignited the air and prepared the materials 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 moveables 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 to be outdone till the universal conflagration of it. All the sky was of a fiery aspect, like the top of a burning oven, and the light seen for above

forty

miles round about for many nights: God grant mine eyes may never see the like! who now saw above

ten thousand

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 also of smoke were dismal, and reached, upon computation, near

fifty

miles in length.

Mr. Vincent also says,--

The cloud of smoke was so great that travellers did ride at noonday some

six

miles together in the shadow thereof, though there were no other cloud besides to be seen in the sky.

From the same authority we obtain or other interesting glimpses of the splendid horrors of this the night:--

Amongst other things, the sight of

Guildhall

was a fearful spectacle, which stood the whole body of it together in view for several hours together after the fire had taken it, without flames, (I suppose because the timber was such solid oak), in a bright shining coal, as if it had been a palace of gold, or a great building of burnished brass.

During Monday, the , the fire extended as far as the Middle Temple westwards, and eastwards, including, besides the streets already mentioned, all , the , , , Newgate, , , , and ; the stones of Paul's flying, says Evelyn,

like grenadoes,

its melting lead flowing through the streets in a stream, the pavements everywhere

glowing with fiery redness, so as

Burning of Newgate: Old St.Paul's in the background

no horse or man was able to tread on them,

and the east wind all the time still driving the flames impetuously forward.

But,

writes the reverend gentleman before mentioned,

the great fury of the fire was in the broader streets; in the midst of the night it was come down to

Cornhill

, and laid it in the dust, and runs along by the Stocks, and there meets with another fire, which came down

Threadneedle Street

; a little further with another, which came up from

Walbrook

; a little further with another, which came up from

Bucklersbury

: and all these

four

, joining together, break into

one

great flame at the corner of

Cheapside

, with such a dazzling light and burning heat, and roaring noise by the fall of so many houses together, that was very amazing.

By Tuesday, the , the fire had reached the end of in , and the entrance of Smithfield. But now the wind somewhat abated, and the spirits of the people rose in a still greater proportion. Instead of pulling down houses by

engines,

as they had before done, gunpowder was used, which soon produced gaps too wide to be overleaped by the fire; a measure that, according to Evelyn,

some stout seamen proposed early enough to have saved near the whole city; but this some tenacious and avaricious men, aldermen, &c., would not permit, because their houses must have been of the

first

.

About noon the fury of the flames began sensibly to abate in most parts, although they burned as fiercely as ever towards Cripplegate and the Tower. But the fire was gradually checked here also by the same means.

On the Pepys was once more waked by ,

new cries of fire,

a species of alarm that continued for some days to distract the attention of the miserable population when the great conflagration was dying away among the ruins it had made. He was, however, able to walk through some of the principal streets; and on the his fellow diarist took a still longer and more careful survey. The description of the scene which met his eye appears to us of the most painfully interesting pictures of desolation we ever read.

I went this morning on foot from

Whitehall

as far as

London Bridge

, through the late

Fleet Street

, Ludgate

Hill, by

St. Paul's

,

Cheapside

, Exchange, Bishopsgate, Aldersgate, and out to

Moorfields

, thence through

Cornhill

, &c., with extraordinary difficulty, clambering over heaps of yet smoking rubbish, and frequently mistaking where I was. The ground under my feet so hot that it even burnt the soles of my shoes . . At my return I was infinitely concerned to find that goodly church,

St. Paul's

, now a sad ruin, and that beautiful portico (for structure comparable to any in Europe, as not long before repaired by the late King) now rent in pieces, flakes of vast stone split asunder, and nothing remaining entire but the inscription in the architrave, showing by whom it was built, which had not

one

letter of it defaced. It was astonishing to see what immense stones the heat had in a manner calcined, so that all the ornaments, columns, friezes, capitals, and projectures of massy Portland stone flew off, even to the very roof, where a sheet of lead covering a great space (no less than

six

acres by measure) was totally melted; the ruins of the vaulted roof falling broke into St. Faith's, which being filled with the magazines of books belonging to the stationers, and carried thither for safety, they were all consumed, burning for a week following. ..,. There lay in ashes that most venerable church,

one

of the most ancient pieces of early piety in the Christian world, besides near

100

more; the lead, iron-work, bells, plate, &c., melted; the exquisitely wrought Mercers' Chapel, the sumptuous Exchange, the august fabric of

Christ Church

, all the rest of the Companies' Halls, splendid buildings, arches, entries, all in dust; the fountains dried up and ruined, whilst the very water remained boiling; . . . subterranean cellars, wells, and dungeons, formerly warehouses, still burning in stench and dark clouds of smoke, so that in

five

or

six

miles traversing about I did not see

one

load of timber unconsumed, nor many stones but what were calcined white as snow. The people who now walked about the ruins appeared like men in some dismal desert, or rather in some great city wasted by a cruel enemy; to which was added the stench that came from some poor creatures' bodies, beds, and other combustible goods. Sir Thomas Gresham's statue, though fallen from its niche in the

Royal Exchange

, remained entire when all those of the Kings since the Conquest were broken to pieces; also the Standard in

Cornhill

and Queen Elizabeth's effigies, with some arms on Ludgate, continued with but little detriment, whilst the vast iron chains of the city streets, hinges, bars, and gates of prisons were many of them melted and reduced to cinders by the vehement heat. Nor was I yet able to pass through any of the narrower streets, but kept the widest: the ground and air, smoke, and fiery vapour continued so intense that my hair was almost singed, and my feet unsufferably surbated.

Surbated--battered, bruised, sore.

The by lanes and narrower streets were quite filled up with rubbish, nor could any

one

have possibly known where he was but by the ruins of some church or hall that had some remarkable tower or pinnacle remaining. I then went towards

Islington

and Highgate, where

one

might have seen

two hundred thousand

people of all ranks and degrees dispersed and lying along by their heaps of what they could save from the fire, deploring their loss, and, though ready to perish for hunger and destitution, yet not asking

one

penny for relief, which to me appeared a stranger sight than any I had yet beheld. His Majesty and council, indeed, took all imaginable care for their relief by proclamation for the country to come in and refresh them with provisions. In the midst of all this calamity and confusion there was, I know At how,

an alarm begun that the French and Dutch, with whom we were in hostility, were not only landed, but even entering the city. There was in truth some days before great suspicion of those

two

nations joining, and now that they had been the occasion of firing the town. This report did so terrify, that on a sudden there was such an uproar and tumult that they ran from their goods, and, taking what weapons they could come at, they could not be stopped from falling on some of those nations whom they casually met, without sense or reason. The clamour and peril grew so excessive that it made the whole court amazed, and they did with infinite pains and great difficulty reduce and appease the people, sending troops of soldiers and guards to cause them to retire into the fields again, where they were watched all this night. I left them pretty quiet, and came home sufficiently weary and broken.

From the inscription on the north side of the Monument it appears that the total amount of destruction was

eighty-nine

churches, the City gates,

Guildhall

, many public structures, hospitals, schools, libraries, a vast number of stately edifices,

thirteen thousand two hundred

dwelling-houses,

four hundred

streets; of

twenty-six

wards it utterly destroyed

fifteen

, and left

eight

others shattered and half burnt. The ruins of the City were

four hundred and thirty-six

acres from the Tower by the Thames side to the Temple Church, and from the north-east gate along the City Wall to

Holborn

Bridge. To the estates and fortunes of the citizens it was merciless, but to their lives very favourable (only

eight

being lost), that it might in all things resemble the last conflagration of the world.

[n.437.1]  The limits of the fire may be thus traced :--Temple Church, Bridge, Pye Corner, Smithfield, Aldersgate, Cripplegate, near the end of , at the end of by the Postern, at the upper end of , in , by the Standard in , at the Church in , by the Clothworkers' Hall, at the middle of , and at the Tower Dock. The part of the City left standing within the walls contained parishes, occupying an area of acres. And this was all that the Great Fire had left of London! A table of estimates of the loss is given in Maitland's

History,

which amounts to nearly

We have seen from the preceding extracts that the King and his brother exerted themselves greatly in endeavouring to check the progress of the fire, to preserve as far as possible something like order in the midst of so much inevitable confusion, and to ameliorate the unhappy condition of the inhabitants thus suddenly deprived of their homes, and dispersed through the open country,

several miles in circle, some under tents, some under miserable huts and hovels; many without a rag or any necessary utensils, bed or board; who, from delicateness, riches, and every accommodation in stately and well-furnished houses, were now reduced to extremest poverty and misery.

[n.437.2]  In a manuscript from the secretary's office, quoted by Dr. Echard in his

History of England,

we have a picture of the

merry monarch

which places him in a very favourable light.--

All own the immediate hand of God, and bless the goodness of the King, who made the round of the fire usually twice every day, and for many hours together, on horseback and on foot, gave orders for pursuing the work by threatenings, desires, example, and good store of money, which he himself distributed to the workers out of a

hundred

-pound bag, which he carried with him

for that purpose.

Conduct like this was calculated to attract the popular favour, as it deserved; and the poets were not slow in commemorating it in verse sufficiently panegyrical, whatever other defects it might exhibit. Here is specimen from The Conflagration of London Poetically Delineated, by Sir J. L., Knight and Baronet, , which must make the most serious smile, in spite of the awful nature of the subject :

Here Caesar comes, with buckets in his eyes,

And father in his heart. Come, come, he cries,

Let's make one onset more. The scatter'd troops

At his word rally and retrieve their hopes:

The rebel flames, they say, felt Charles was there,

And, sneaking back, grew tamer than they were:

So that, no doubt, were Fates to be defeated

By man, the city's fate had then retreated.

But loyalty befriends the flames. Their own

Dangers neglected, thine affrights. Alone!

Alone! dear Sir, let's fall, they cried aloud,

And hazard not three kingdoms in a crowd.

We return to more serious matters. The origin of so awful a calamity was of course the very object that engaged the attention of the King and the Parliament after the lapse of the few anxious days. A Committee was appointed on the of the same month. The report was made on the d of January following, by Sir Richard Brook, chairman, who stated that they had received

many considerable informations from divers credible persons about the matter,

which they now laid before the House. The evidence was

a letter from Alanson,

of the , New Style, written from Dural to a gentleman lodging in the house of of the ministers of the French Crown in London, called Monsieur Herault: these were the expressions :--

They acquaint me with the truth of certain news which is common in this country, that a fire from Heaven is fallen upon a city called Belke, situated on the side of the river of Thames, where a world of people have been killed and burnt, and houses also consumed: which seemed a word of cabal, cast out by some that were knowing, and others that might be ignorant of the signification of it.

Mrs. Elizabeth Styles informed the Committee that a French servant of Sir Vere Fan had said to her in April last,

You English maids will like the Frenchmen better when there is not a house left between

Temple Bar

and

London Bridge

;

and, on her answering,

I hope your eyes will never see that,

he replied,

This will come to pass between June and October.

William Tinsdale heard Fitz-Harris, an Irish Papist, say, about the beginning of July,

there would be a sad desolation in September, in November a worse; in December all would be united into

one

.

other witnesses reported conversations of a very similar nature,

Papists

in each case being the prophets. This was line of evidence. The next, could it be depended on, was very much more to the purpose. This was the confession of

Robert Hubert, of Rouen in Normandy, who acknowledged that he was

one

of those that fired the house of Mr. Farryner, a baker, in

Pudding Lane

,

at the instigation of Stephen Piedloe, who came out of France with him, by putting a fire-ball at the end of a long pole, and lighting it with a piece of match which he put in at a window. He had also, he said,

Three

-and-

twenty

complices, whereof

Piedloe was the chief.

Mr. Graves, a French merchant, living in , declared he knew Hubert to be

fit for any villanous enterprise,

and that, having visited him in gaol, the latter had confessed himself guilty, remarking he had not done it

out of any malice to the English nation, but from a desire of reward,

which Piedloe had promised him on his return to France.

It is observable,

remarks the report,

that this miserable creature, who confessed himself before the Committee to be a Protestant, was a Papist and died so.

The well-informed Mr. Graves was also acquainted with Piedloe, who was

a very deboist (debauched) person, and apt to any wicked design.

The baker, Farryner, being examined, said it was impossible any fire could happen in his house by accident; for he had, as before mentioned, after of the clock that night, gone through every room thereof, and found no fire but in chimney, where the room was paved with bricks, which fire he diligently raked up in embers. Lastly, Hubert was sent under guard to

see if he could find out the place where he threw the fireball,

which he did with perfect accuracy.

The species of evidence related to the fireballs and other combustible matter said to be thrown into various houses during the days: Daniel Weymanset, Esq.,

saw a man apprehended near the Temple, with his pockets stuffed with combustible matter.

Dr. John Parker saw some

combustible matter

thrown into a shop in the ;

thereupon he saw a great smoke and smelt a smell of brimstone.

witnesses all agreed that they saw a person flinging something into a house near St. Antholine's church, and that thereupon the house was on fire .... and when this was done there was no fire near the place. Testimony of a somewhat similar nature was offered by other persons. Lastly, Mr. Freeman, of , brewer, found in his house, which had been lately burnt, about a quarter of an hour before that happened, a paper with a ball of wild-fire in the nave of a wheel; and Mr. Richard Harwood, being near the Feathers tavern, by , on the ,

saw something through a grate in a cellar, like wild-fire; by the sparkling and spitting of it he could judge it to be no other; whereupon he gave notice of it to some soldiers that were near the place, who caused it to be quenched.

Thus far the report. Additions were subsequently made of a similar, but certainly not more trustworthy, character. Then follows the report of the

Committee appointed to certify information touching the insolency of Popish priests and Jesuits, and the increase of Popery.

The very heading of this last report shows the of the then Parliament; yet the Committee of that House, in making the report before mentioned, . This is surely a significant fact. Hubert have fired the house; there have been wicked, mischievous, and discontented individuals who endeavoured to increase the horrors of the time in the modes described in the evidence; yet how much of this evidence might not be explained by the general excitement of mind in which all the witnesses must have participated, and by the important remark of Pepys already transcribed concerning the

shower of fire-drops,

which he expressly says set fire to houses which the conflagration had not reached! But, at all events, that no large body of people, whether foreigners or Papists, were concerned in the affair, seems to us to be partly proved by the very absence of such a charge in the Committee's report; but still more by the facts that, , it is impossible to discover how

Papists,

the body chiefly suspected, could have been benefited by

440

the destruction of the metropolis of their country; and secondly, that , when--on the hypothesis of their guilt-success had rewarded their atrocious efforts, and they had only to reap the harvest they desired. As to Hubert, although, according to Clarendon, neither the judge nor any person present at his trial believed his story, but all saw that he was a poor distracted wretch, weary of his life, and anxious to part with it, yet the jury found him guilty, and the King and the judges, notwithstanding their conviction of his insanity, allowed him to be executed!

It was soon after complained of,

says Bishop Kennet, in his

History of England,

that Hubert was not sufficiently examined who set him to work, or who joined with him.

And Mr. Hawles, in his remarks upon Fitz-Harris's trial, is bold to say that,

the Commons resolving to examine Hubert upon that matter next day, Hubert was hanged before the house sate, and so could tell no further tales.

We must add still more important piece of evidence. Maitland says that

Lawrence Peterson, the master of the ship that brought Hubert over, upon his examination some time after, declared that the said Hubert did not land

till two days after the fire

.

The truth appears to be that Hubert was insane; and yet the poor creature was executed! This is dreadful work to have taken place in England only years ago. Nor does it seem to have been done as a sacrifice to the popular frenzy. It is stated in the

Pictorial England,

[n.440.2]  and we find no evidence to the contrary, that

to the lasting honour of the London populace, desperate and bewildered as they were, and mad with excitement, they shed no blood, leaving such, iniquities to be perpetrated by the fabricators of Popish plots, the Parliament, and the judges.

It is gratifying to be able to add, from the same authority, that during this unhappy period

acts of Christian charity were performed on all sides, old animosities were mutually forgotten, nothing was remembered but the present desolation, all kinds of people expressing a marvellous charity towards those who appeared to be undone.

In addition to the distress and alarm felt by all during the fire, and the loss and physical privations it entailed for some time on the greater part of the population, it left an immense amount of difficulty and trouble behind in connexion with the arrangements necessary for the rebuilding. The King and the Government had now a painful duty to perform. On the hand, they saw the necessity of preventing a new London from arising on the ruins of the old, liable to all the same dangers and inconveniences; and, in an affair of such magnitude, some little time for consideration was indispensable:--on the other, they beheld persons bivouacking without the ruins of their late homes, all clamorous for the re-erection of their dwellings, shops, and warehouses, and who, in their extremity, were unwilling to listen to any schemes of amelioration which should cause a single day's delay. There was also the very delicate task to perform of carefully restoring to each person his own land or situation, for the general destruction had erased so many of the ordinary marks that official supervision and control were indispensable. This part of the business was intrusted to a court of judicature, consisting of the principal judges, who fortunately gave such general satisfaction that the City caused all their portraits to be painted. As to the rebuilding, the man was at hand who could have enabled the King without delay to devise

441

whatever measures were required for the safety and splendour of the new metropolis. When Evelyn, who formed a plan for the rebuilding, took it to Charles a few days after the fire, he found Sir Christopher Wren had been before him; and we cannot but observe that there was something more than ordinarily remarkable in the fact that an architect of Wren's genius should have appeared at the precise moment that he was so much wanted, and when such a
A. The Royal Exchange.E Insurance Office.I. Doctors' Commons.N. Market.
B. Post Office.F. Goldsmiths'.K. Wood Market.† Churches.
C. Excise Office.G. Guildhall.L. Custom House.† Continuation of London Wall.
D. Mint.H. St. Paul's.M. Piazzas.
stupendous work offered for the development of his powers. Prior to the time of the Fire he was employed upon the restoration of , (which he had of course afterwards entirely to rebuild,) and in the erection of some other public edifices; but as yet he had completed nothing; and this is pretty well all we know, except by inference, of his architectural reputation in . From the account published by his son in the

Parentalia,

it appears that he was now

appointed surveyor-general and principal architect for rebuilding the whole City; the cathedral church of St. Paul, all the parochial churches (in number

fifty-one

, enacted by Parliament, in lieu of those that were burnt and demolished), with other public structures; and for the disposition of the streets.

He took to assist him Mr. Robert Hook, professor of geometry in Gresham College, to whom he assigned the business of measuring, adjusting, and setting out the ground of the private street houses to the several proprietors, reserving all the public works to his own peculiar care and direction.

In order therefore to a proper reformation, Wren (pursuant to the royal command), immediately after the fire, took an exact survey of the whole area and confines of the burning, having traced over with great trouble and hazard the great plain of ashes and ruins; and designed a plan or model of a new city, in which the deformity and inconveniences of the old town were remedied, by the

enlarging the streets and lanes, and carrying them as near parallel to

one

another as might be; avoiding, if compatible with greater conveniences, all acute angles; by seating all the parochial churches conspicuous and insular; by forming the most public places into large piazzas, the centre of (

six

or)

eight

ways; by uniting the halls of the

twelve

chief companies into

one

regular square annexed to

Guildhall

; by making a quay on the whole bank of the river, from Blackfriars to the Tower.

The streets to be of

three

magnitudes; the

three

principal leading straight through the City, and

one

or

two

cross streets, to be at least

ninety

feet wide; others

sixty

feet; and lanes about

thirty

feet, excluding all narrow dark alleys without thoroughfares and courts.

Evelyn's plan, we may here observe, also included several piazzas of various forms, of which would have formed an oval, with in the centre. It differed from Wren's chiefly in proposing a street from the church of St. Dunstan's in the East to the cathedral, and in having no quay or terrace along the river.

The practicability of this scheme,

continues the author of the

Parentalia,

without loss to any man or infringement of any property, was at that time demonstrated, and all material objections fully weighed and answered. The only, and as it happened insurmountable, difficulty remaining, was the obstinate averseness of great part of the citizens to alter their old properties, and to recede from building their houses again on the old ground and foundations; as also the distrust in many, and unwillingness to give up their properties, though for a time only, into the hands of public trustees or commissioners, till they might be dispensed to them again, with more advantage to themselves than otherwise was possible to be effected.

Thus

the opportunity in a great degree was lost of making the new city the most magnificent, as well as commodious for health and trade, of any upon earth.

[n.442.1]  The best, however, was done under the circumstances that could be done; and the result was that, when London was rebuilt, which was accomplished in an almost incredibly short space of time ( houses being erected in the years), it was found little more convenient than before, but a good deal more magnificent as far as the public buildings were concerned, and, being built of brick and stone, altogether infinitely more safe. It appears also to have become in the transformation more healthy; the plague, which the year before had carried off persons, disappeared from that time.

Instead of the present Monument, which was commenced in and completed in , after the design here shown was proposed by Sir Christopher, and it is unfortunate that the authorities could not be convinced of its superior fitness for the object desired. It was of somewhat less proportion than the existing Monument, namely,

fourteen

feet in diameter, and after a peculiar device; for, as the Romans expressed in relievo on the pedestals and round the shafts of their columns the history of such actions and incidents as were intended to be thereby commemorated, so this monument of the conflagration and restoration of the City of London was represented by a pillar in flames; the flames blazing from the loop-holes of the shaft (which were to give light to the stairs within) were figured in brass-work gilt; and on the top was a phoenix rising from her ashes, in brass gilt likewise.

Not only was this most happy, because most appropriate, design rejected, but in that which followed an alteration was made,

443

decidedly injurious to its effect, and in opposition to the architect's wishes. He had proposed to place a colossal statue in brass gilt of the King, as founder of
the new city, on the top of the pillar, or else a figure erect of a woman crowned with turrets, holding a sword and cap of maintenance, with other ensigns of the City's grandeur and re-erection. The flames, however, we suppose, pleased the learned persons who sat in judgment, though the design of which they formed so characteristic a feature did not; so, like other architectural judges nearer our own day, they cut off the feature from where it was appropriate, and placed it where it was not-hence the gilt bunch, representative of flames, of the present structure; On the completion of the Monument, the genius of Cibber, the well-known sculptor of the figures of the lunatics on the gates of old Bethlehem Hospital, was put in requisition to decorate the front part of the pedestal with an emblematical representation of the destruction and restoration of the City. It is not, however, of the happiest of his efforts. The work is in alto and bas-relief, and contains numerous figures, symbols, and decorations. We have already transcribed a portion of the inscription on the north side of the Monument; that on the south commemorates what was done for the improvement of London in its rebuilding; another, on the east, the names of the Mayors of London who held office during its erection; and beneath this was originally a , ascribing the fire to the

treachery and malice of the Popish faction;

which was cut away in the reign of James, then restored in deep characters during that of William III., and again erased a few years ago by a vote of the Corporation. Our readers are of course aware that it is to this Pope refers in his famous line where he says the Monument,

Like a tall bully, lifts its head and lies.

In conclusion, it may be observed that Wren's plan would undoubtedly have secured to us both of the great objects which should be sought in all our Metropolitan improvements, namely-complete and universally uninterrupted communication between all parts, and the increase of architectural beauty. But is it not too often forgotten, whilst the failure of that plan is being regretted, that it may in all its essential features? We do not mean to say that London can ever be brought to correspond with the design shown in our pages, nor is it necessary. or great lines of communication from end of London to the other; streets broad in proportion to their use, and the narrowest not too narrow for health or convenience; a quay along the bank of the river; and insulation of public structures, that is to say those worthy of such distinction;

444

are, we consider, the chief features of the great architect's proposals. What is to prevent us from realising all these now? Considerable progress has been made, or is making, already, with regard to the points; we hope yet to inhale the fresh breezes by the side of the pleasantest, because most

silent,

of

highways ;

and with regard to the better display of our public edifices, we are willing to look upon the improvements made around the Monument since the following drawing was taken as the commencement of a good work, of which the opening of the area around the same architect's greatest work, , shall be the next and more important fruit.

 
 
Footnotes:

[n.437.1] From the translation of the Latin inscription given in Maitland.

[n.437.2] Evelyn.

[n.440.2] Book viii. p. 899.

[n.442.1] Wren's Parentalia, p. 269.