SECTION III.

Whetherthe fire came casually, or on design, remains still a secret: though the general opinion might be that it was casual, yet there were presumptions on the other side of a very odd nature. Great calamities naturally produce various conjectures; men seldom considering, that the most stupendous effects often proceed from the most minute causes, or most remote accidents. People failed not to give a scope to their imagination, and to form guesses concerning the causes and authors of this afflicting and astonishing misfortune.

The king in his speech calls it "God's judgment;" the pious and religious, and at first all other men, generally and naturally ascribed it to the just vengeance of Heaven, on a city where vice and immorality reigned so openly and shamefully, and which had not been sufficiently humbled by the raging pestilence of the foregoing year.

Sir Edward Turner, speaker of the House of Commons, at presenting bills for the royal assent, says, "We must for ever with humility, acknowledge the justice of God in punishing this whole nation by the late dreadful conflagration of London."

The act of common-council for rebuilding, says, "The fire was by all justly resented as a most sad and dismal judgment of Heaven."

But time soon produced abundance of suspicions and variety of opinions concerning the means and instruments made use of.

There were some so bold as even to suspect the king. Those reports, and Oates's and Bedloe's narratives, are suppositions too monstrous, and the evidence too wretchedly mean to deserve consideration.

The citizens were not well satisfied with the Duke of York's behaviour: they thought him a little too gay and negligent for such an occasion; that his look and air discovered the pleasure he took in that dreadful spectacle; on which account, a jealousy that he was concerned in it was spread with great industry, but with very little appearance of truth.

Some suspected it was an insidious way of the Dutch and French making war upon the English; their two fleets being then nearest to a conjunction. What increased the suspicion was, that some criminals that suffered were said to be under the direction of a committee at London, and received orders from another council in Holland.

Not long before the fire, the French sent the governor of Chousey in a small boat with a letter to Major-General Lambert, then prisoner in Guernsey, to offer him terms to contrive the delivery of that island to them.

Divers strangers, both French and Dutch, were apprehended, upon suspicion, imprisoned, and strictly examined. It was said, a Dutch boy of ten years old, confessed, that his father, his uncle, and himself, had thrown fire-balls into the house where the fire began, through a window which stood open.

The English fleet had some time before landed on the Vly, an island near the Texel, and burnt it; upon which some came to De Wit, and offered, in revenge, if they were but assisted, to set London on fire; but he rejected the [villanous] proposal; and thought no more on it till he heard the city was burnt.

The fire which laid so great part of London in ashes, gave a fresh occasion to the enemies of the republicans to charge them with being the malicious authors thereof; because the fire happened to break out the third of September, a day esteemed fortunate to the republicans, on account of the victories of Dunbar and Worcester, obtained by Oliver Cromwell, when general of the armies of the commonwealth of England.

In the April before, some commonwealth men were found in a plot, and hanged; and at their execution confessed, that they had been requested, to assist in a design of firing London on the second of September.

At the trial of the conspirators at the Old Bailey, it appeared, a design was laid to surprise the town and fire the city; the third of September was pitched on for the attempt, as being found by Lilly's almanack, and a scheme erected for that purpose, to be a lucky day. The third of September was a day auspicious and full of expectation from one party, but at this time ominous and direful to the nation. The city was burnt at the time projected and prognosticated, which gave a strong suspicion, though not a proof, of the authors and promoters of it.

The Dutch were pressed by the commonwealth men to invade England, and were assured of powerful assistance, and hopes of a general insurrection, but they would not venture in so hazardous a design.

Though several persons were imprisoned, it was not possible to discover, or prove, that the house where this dreadful calamity began, was fired on purpose. Whether it was wilful or accidental was a long time a party dispute.

The great talk at that time was, who were the burners of the city? some said it was contrived and carried on by a conspiracy of the Papists and Jesuits, which was afterward offered to be made appear in the popish plot. And there came in so many testimonies to prove that it was the plotted weapon of the papists, as caused the parliament to appoint a committee to enquire into it, and receive informations.

By the dreadful fire in 1666, multitudes of people lost their estates, goods and merchandizes; and many families, once in flourishing circumstances, were reduced to beggary. From the inscription on the plinth of the lower pedestal of the Monument, it appears that the Papists were the authors of this fire; the Parliament being of this persuasion, addressed the king to issue a proclamation, requiring all Popish Priests and Jesuits to depart the kingdom within a month; and appointed a committee, who received evidence of some Papists, who were seen throwing fire-balls into houses, and of others who had materials for it in their pockets. This sad disaster produced some kind of liberty to the Non-conformists.

A sudden and dreadful massacre of the Protestants was feared; and the suspicion confirmed by particular kinds of knives found after the fire in barrels.

Several evidences were given to the committee that men were seen in several parts of the city casting fire-balls into houses; some that were brought to the guard of soldiers, and to the Duke of York, but were never heard of afterwards. Some weeks after, Sir Robert Brooks, chairman of the committee, went to France, and as he was ferried over a river, was drowned, with a kinsman of his, and the business drowned with him.[7]

Oates, in his narrative, says: The dreadful fire in 1666 was principally managed by Strange, the provincial of the Jesuits, in which the society employed eighty or eighty-six men, and spent seven hundred fire balls; and over all their vast expense, they were fourteen thousand pounds gainers by the plunder; among which was a box of jewels consisting of a thousand carats of diamonds. He farther learned, that the fire in Southwark, in 1676, was brought about by the like means; and though in that they were at the expense of a thousand pounds, they made shift to get two thousand clear into their own pockets.[8]

Mr. Echard was told by an eminent prelate, that Dr. Grant, a Papist, was strongly suspected, who having a share in the waterworks, contrived, as is believed, to stop up the pipes the night before the fire broke out, so that it was many hours before any water could be got after the usual manner.

Dr. Lloyd, afterward bishop of Worcester, told Dr. Burnet, that one Grant, a Papist, had sometime before applied himself to Lloyd, who had great interest with the Countess of Clarendon, (who had a large estate in the new river, which is brought from Ware to London) and said he could raise that estate considerably if she would make him a trustee for her. His schemes were probable, and he was made one of the board that governed that matter; and by that he had a right to come as often as he pleased to view their works at Islington. He went thither the Saturday before the fire broke out, and called for the key of the place where the heads of the pipes were, and turned all the cocks, which were then open, and stopped the water, and went away, and carried the keys with him. When the fire broke out next morning, they opened the pipes in the streets to find water, but there was none. Some hours were lost in sending to Islington, where the doors were to be broke open, and the cocks turned; and it was long before the water got from Islington. Grant denied that he turned the cocks; but the officer of the works affirmed that he had, according to order, set them all a-running, and that no person had got the keys from him but Grant; who confessed he had carried away the keys, but did it without design.

When we consider, several depositions were made after the fire, of its breaking out in several different places at the same time, and that one man confessed his setting fire to the houses where it began, when he was executed for it: when we remember Bishop Lloyd's testimony concerning Grant, we cannot easily be convinced that it was entirely accidental.

Bishop Kennet gives the following account: There was but one man tried at the Old Bailey for being the incendiary, who was convicted by his own confession, and executed for it. His name was Roger[9]Hubert, a French Huguenot[10]of Rohan, in Normandy. Some people shammed away this confession, and said he wasnon compos mentis; and had a mind, it seems, to assume the glory of being hanged for the greatest villain. Others say he was sober and penitent; and being, after conviction, carried through the ruins to shew where he put fire, he himself directed through the ashes and rubbish, and pointed at the spot where the first burning house stood.

The fire was generally charged on the Papists; one Hubert, a a Frenchman, who was seized in Essex as he was flying to France, confessed he had begun the conflagration. He was blindfolded, and purposely conducted to wrong places, where he told them it was not the spot where he began the flames; but when he was brought to the right, he confessed that was the place where he threw the fire-ball into the baker's house, the place where the fatal fire began, which he persisted in to the last moments of his execution. He was hanged upon no other evidence: though his broken account made some believe him melancholy mad.[11]

But Oates several years afterwards informed the world the execrable deed was performed by a knot of eighty jesuits, friars, and priests, of several nations.[12]

After all examinations there was but one man tried for being the incendiary, who confessing the fact, was executed for it: this was Robert Hubert, a French Hugenot, of Rohan, in Normandy, a person falsely said to be a Papist, but really a sort of lunatic, who by mere accident was brought into England just before the breaking out of the fire, but not landed till two days after, as appeared by the evidence of Laurence Peterson, the master of the ship who had him on board.[13]

It was soon after complained of, that Hubert was not sufficiently examined who set him to work, and who joined with him. And Mr. Hawles, in his remarks upon Fitzharris's trial is bold to say, that the Commons resolving to examine Hubert upon that matter next day, Hubert was hanged before the house sat, so could tell no farther tales.

Lord Russell and Sir Henry Capel observed to the House of Commons (1680) that those that were taken in carrying on that wicked act, were generally discharged without trial.

In 1679, the House of Commons were suddenly alarmed with an information of a fresh design of the Papists to burn London a second time. The house of one Bird, in Fetter-lane, being set on fire, his servant Elizabeth Oxly, was suspected of firing it wilfully, and sent to prison. She confessed the fact, and declared she had been employed to do it by one Stubbs, a Papist, who had promised her five pounds. Stubbs being taken up, confessed he persuaded her to do it, and that Father Giffard, his confessor, put him upon it; telling him it was no sin to burn all the houses of heretics. He added he had frequent conferences on this affair with Giffard and two Irishmen. Stubbs and the maid declared, the Papists were to make an insurrection, and expected an army of sixty thousand men from France. It was generally inferred from this incident, that it was not Giffard's fault (nor that of his party), that the city of London was not burnt, as in the year 1666; and confirmed those in their opinion who thought that general conflagration was the contrivance and work of the Papists.

The hand of man was made use of in the beginning and carrying on of this fire. The beginning of the fire at such a time when there had been so much hot weather which had dried the houses, and made them the more fit for fuel; the beginning of it in such a place, where there were so many timber houses, and the shops filled with so much combustible matter; and the beginning of it just when the wind did blow so fiercely upon that corner toward the rest of the city, which then was like tinder to the sparks; this doth smell of a popish design, hatched in the same nest with the gunpowder plot. The world sufficiently knows how correspondent this is to popish principles and practices; they might, without any scruple of their kinds of conscience, burn an heretical city, as they count it, into ashes: for beside the dispensations they can have from his holiness (rather his wickedness) it is not unlikely but they count such an action as this meritorious.

Lord Chancellor (Earl of Nottingham) in his speech in giving judgment against Lord Viscount Stafford, said, "Who can doubt any longer that London was burnt by Papists?" though there was not one word in the whole trial relating to it.

The inscription on the plinth of the lower pedestal of the Monument has given an opportunity to the Reverend Mr. Crookshanks to say, it appears that the Papists were the authors of the fire, and that the Parliament being of the same persuasion, addressed the king.

The inscription is in English:

"This pillar was set up in perpetual remembrance of the most dreadful burning of this protestant city, begun and carried on by the treachery and malice of the popish faction, in the beginning of September, in the year of our Lord 1666. In order to the carrying on their horrid plot for extirpating the protestant religion and old English liberty, and introducing popery and slavery."[14]

This inscription was erased by King James upon his succession to the crown; but reinscribed presently after the revolution, in such deep characters as are not easily to be blotted out.

The latter part of the inscription on the north side (Sed furor papisticus, qui tam dira patravit, nondum restinguitur) containing an offensive truth, was erased at King James's accession, and reinscribed soon after the revolution.

Mr. Pope differs much in his opinion concerning these inscriptions, when he says—

It seems wonderful (says the author of the Craftsman) that the plague was not as peremptorily imputed to the Papists as the fire.[15]

There was a general suspicion of incendiaries laying combustible stuff in many places, having observed several houses to be on fire at the same time: but we are told, God with his great bellows did blow upon it, and made it spread quickly, and horrible flakes of fire mounted to the skies.

There was a strange concurrence of several natural causes which occasioned the fire so vigorously to spread and increase.

There was a great supineness and negligence in the people of the house where it began: it began between one and two o'clock after midnight, when all were in a dead sleep: on a Saturday night, when many of the eminent citizens, merchants, and others, were retired into the country, and left servants to look to their city houses: it happened in the long vacation, at a time of year when many wealthy citizens are wont to be in the country at fairs, or getting in debts, and making up accounts with their chapmen.

The houses where it began were mostly built of timber, and those very old: the closeness and narrowness of the streets did much facilitate the progress of the fire, and prevented the bringing in engines. The wares and commodities stowed and vended in those parts were most combustible of any other, as oil, pitch, tar, cordage, hemp, flax, rosin, wax, butter, cheese, wine, brandy, sugar, and such like.

The warmth of the preceding season had so dried the timber, that it was never more apt to take fire; and an easterly wind (which is the driest of all) had blown for several days together before, and at that time very strongly.

The unexpected failing of the water from the New River; the engine at London-bridge called the Thames water-tower was out of order, and in a few hours was itself burnt down, so that the pipes which conveyed the water from thence through the streets, were soon empty.

Beside, there was an unusual negligence at first, and a confidence of easily quenching it, and of its stopping at several places afterward; which at last turned into confusion, consternation, and despair; people choosing rather by flight to save their goods, than by a vigorous opposition to save their own houses and the whole city.

Thus a small spark, from an unknown cause, for want of timely care, increased to such a flame, that nothing could extinguish, which laid waste the greatest part of the city in three days' time.

The king in his speech to the parliament, says, "God be thanked for our meeting together in this place: little time hath passed since we were almost in despair of having this place left to meet in. You see the dismal ruins the fire hath made: and nothing but a miracle of God's mercy could have preserved what is left from the same destruction."

When the presumptions of the city's being burnt by design came to be laid before a committee of the House of Commons, they were found of no weight: and the many stories, published at that time with great assurance, were declared void of credibility.[16]

After all, it may perhaps be queried, whether the foregoing rumours and examinations, though incongruous with each other, may not afford some colour to a whisper, that the government itself was not without some ground of suspicion of having been the secret cause of the conflagration; to afford an opportunity of restoring the capital of the nation, in a manner more secure from future contagion, more generally wholesome for the inhabitants, more safe from fires, and more beautiful on the whole, from the united effect of all these salutary purposes. Such, however, has been the result of that temporary disaster, whether accidental or not; and if intended, a more pardonable instance of doing evil that good may come of it, cannot perhaps be produced.[17]

TheAct of Parliament 19 and 20 Car. II., enacts, that—The better to preserve the memory of this dreadful visitation, a column or pillar of brass or stone be erected on, or as near unto the place where the fire unhappily began, as conveniently may be; in perpetual remembrance thereof: with such inscription thereon as the lord mayor and court of aldermen shall direct.

In obedience to which act, the fine piece of architecture, called The Monument, was erected, at the expense of fourteen thousand five hundred pounds; it is the design of the great Sir Christopher Wren, and undoubtedly the finest modern column in the world, and in some respects may vie with the most famous of antiquity, being twenty-four feet higher than Trajan's pillar at Rome. It is of the Doric order, fluted; its altitude, two hundred and two feet from the ground; greatest diameter of the body fifteen feet; the ground bounded by the plinth or lower part of the pedestal, twenty-eight feet square; and the pedestal is in altitude forty feet; all of Portland stone. Within, is a large staircase of black marble, containing three hundred and forty-five steps, ten inches and a half broad, and six inches risers; a balcony within thirty-two feet from the top, whereon is a spacious and curious gilded flame, very suitable to the intent of the whole column.

On the front or west side of the die of the pedestal of this magnificent column is finely carved a curious emblem of this tragical scene, by the masterly hand of Mr. Gabriel Cibber. The eleven principal figures are in alto, the rest in basso relievo.

At the north end of the plain the city is represented in flames, and the inhabitants in consternation, their arms extended upward, crying for succour. A little nearer the horizon, the arms, cap of maintenance, and other ensigns of the city's grandeur, partly buried under the ruins. On the ruins, lies the figure of a woman crowned with a castle, her breasts pregnant, and in her hand a sword; representing the strong, plentiful, and well-governed city of London in distress. The king is represented on a place ascended to by three steps, providing by his power and prudence for the comfort of his citizens and ornament of his city. On the steps stand three women: 1. Liberty, having in her right hand a hat, wherein the word Liberty, denoting the freedom or liberty given those who engaged three years in the work. 2. Ichnographia, with rule and compasses in one hand, and a scroll in the other; near her, the emblem of Industry, a beehive. 3. Imagination, holding the emblem of Invention. All which intimate, that the speedy re-erection of the city was principally owing to liberty, imagination, contrivance, art, and industry. There is the figure of time raising the woman in distress, and Providence with a winged hand containing an eye, promising peace and plenty, by pointing to those two figures in the clouds. Behind the king, the work is going forward. Under the king's feet appears Envy enraged at the prospect of success, and blowing flames out of his mouth. The figure of a lion, with one fore-foot tied up, and the muzzle of a cannon, denote this deplorable misfortune to have happened in time of war; and Mars, with a chaplet in his hand, is an emblem of approaching peace. Round the cornice are noble enrichments of trophy work, sword, the king's arms, cap of maintenance, &c., at the angles, four very large dragons, the supporters of the city arms.

On this column of perpetual remembrance the lord mayor and court of aldermen have ordered inscriptions to be cut in Latin:

That on the north side, describes the desolation of the city in ashes; and is thus translated:

In the year of Christ 1666, the second day of September, eastward from hence at the distance of two hundred and two feet, (the height of this column) about midnight, a most terrible fire broke out, which, driven by a high wind, not only wasted the adjacent parts, but also places very remote, with incredible noise and fury: it consumed 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 entirely consumed 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 of the city wall to Holborn-bridge: to the estates and fortunes of the citizens it was merciless, but to their lives very favourable[18]; that it might in all things resemble the last conflagration of the world.

The destruction was sudden, for in a small space of time, the same city, was seen most flourishing, and reduced to nothing.

Three days after, when this fatal fire had baffled all human councils and endeavours, in the opinions of all, as it were by the will of heaven, it stopped, and on every side was extinguished.

The south side describes the glorious restoration of the city, and has been thus translated:—

Charles the Second, son of Charles the Martyr, King of Great Britain, France, and Ireland, defender of the faith, a most gracious prince, commiserating the deplorable state of things, while the ruins were yet smoking, provided for the comfort of his citizens, and the ornament of his city; remitted their taxes, and referred the petitions of the magistrates and inhabitants to the parliament, who immediately passed an act, that public buildings should be restored to greater beauty with public money, to be raised by an imposition on coals; that churches, and the cathedral of St. Paul's, should be rebuilt from their foundations with all magnificence; that bridges, gates, and prisons should be made new; the sewers cleansed; the streets made straight and regular; such as were steep, levelled, and those too narrow, made wider; markets and shambles removed to separate places. They also enacted, that every house should be built with party walls, and all in front raised of equal height, and those walls all of square stone or brick; and that no man should delay beyond the space of seven years. Moreover, care was taken by law to prevent all suits about their bounds. Also, anniversary prayers were enjoined;[19]and to perpetuate the memory hereof to posterity, they caused this column to be erected. The work was carried on with diligence, and London is restored; but whether with greater speed or beauty may be made a question. Three years' time saw that finished which was supposed to be the business of an age.

The east side, over the door, has an inscription, thus Englished:

This pillar was begun, Sir Richard Ford, knight, being lord mayor of London, in the year 1671: carried on in the mayoralties of Sir George Waterman, knight; Sir Robert Hanson, knight; Sir William Hooker, knight; Sir Robert Viner, knight; Sir Joseph Sheldon, knight; and finished, Sir Thomas Davis, knight, being lord mayor, in the year 1677.

The inscription on the plinth of the lower pedestal is inpage 245.

On a stone in front of the house built on the spot where the fire began, there was (very lately) the following inscription:

"Here, by the permission of Heaven, hell broke loose on this protestant city, from the malicious hearts of barbarous Papists, by the hand of their agent, Hubert, who confessed, and on the ruins of this place declared his fact, for which he was hanged, viz.:—That he here began the dreadful fire, which is described and perpetuated on and by the neighbouring pillar. Erected 1680, in the mayorality of Sir Patience Ward, knight."

[1]Rev. xiv. 18.

[2]Seymour's Survey, i. 70.

[3]Carte Ormd. i. 329.

[4]Of this clumsy piece of sculpture we have the following account from Maitland's Survey, page 1,049:—"It is impossible to quit this place without taking notice of the equestrian statue raised here in honour of Charles II.; a thing in itself so exceedingly ridiculous and absurd, that it is in no one's power to look upon it without reflecting on the tastes of those who set it up. But when we enquire into the history of it, the farce improves upon our hands, and what was before contemptible, grows entertaining. This statue was originally made for John Sobieski, King of Poland, but, by some accident was left upon the workman's hands. About the same time the city was loyal enough to pay their devoirs to King Charles immediately upon his restoration; and finding this statue ready made to their hands, resolved to do it in the cheapest way, and convert the Polander into a Briton, and the Turk underneath into Oliver Cromwell, to make their compliment complete: and the turban upon the last mentioned figure is an undeniable proof of the truth of the story."

[5]The certificate says, eighty-nine parish Churches; but see the Act of Parliament and inscription on the monument.

[6]London's Remembrancer, page 33,—ten years before the fire.

[7]Oldmison, i. 547.

[8]Rapin, ii. 690.

[9]Robert, according to Rapin.

[10]Bishop Burnet and some others say he was a Papist.

[11]Burnet, Abr., 120.

[12]Howell, Impartial History of James II., i. 9.

[13]Echard, i. 169.

[14]Old. Hist. of the Church of Scotland, i. 207.[Transcriber's Note:The marker for this footnote is missing in the original; its location has been guessed.]

[15]Seymour, i. 454.[Transcriber's Note:The marker for this footnote is missing in the original; its location has been guessed.]

[16]Echard, iii. 168.[Transcriber's Note:The marker for this footnote is missing in the original; its location has been guessed.]

[17]Burnet, Abr. 121.[Transcriber's Note:The marker for this footnote is missing in the original; its location has been guessed.]

[18]It was a very miraculous circumstance, amidst all this destruction and public confusion, no person was known either to be burnt, or trodden to death in the streets.

[19]By statute 19 and 20, Car. II., it is enacted, That the citizens of London, and their successors for the time to come, may retain the memory of so sad a desolation, and reflect seriously on the manifold iniquities, which are the unhappy causes of such judgments: be it therefore enacted, that the second day of September (unless the same happen to be Sunday, and if so, then the next day following) be yearly for ever hereafter observed as a day of fasting and humiliation within the said city and liberties thereof, to implore the mercy of Almighty God upon the said city; to make devout prayers and supplications unto him, to divert the like calamity for the time to come.

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