his Maty to command me among ye rest to looke after the quenching of Fetter Lane, and to preserve if possible that part of Holborn, while the rest of ye gentlemen tooke their several posts (for now they began to bestir themselves, and not till now, who hitherto had stood as men intoxicated, with their hands acrosse), and began to consider that nothing was likely to put a stop but the blowing up of so many houses as might make a wider gap than any had yet ben made by the THE GREAT FIRE OF LONDON. ordinary method of pulling them down with engines; this some stout seamen propos'd early enough to have sav'd neare ye whole Citty, but this some tenacious and avaritious men, aldermen, &c., would not permit, because their houses must have ben of the first. It was therefore now commanded to be practic'd, and my concern being particularly for the hospital of St Bartholomew neere Smithfield, where I had many wounded and sick men, made me the more diligent to promote LONDON, AS IT APPEARED FROM BANKSIDE, SOUTHWARK, DURING THE GREAT FIRE. FROM A PRINT OF THE PERIOD BY VISSCHER. it, nor was my care for the Savoy lesse. It now pleas'd God by abating the wind, and by the industry of ye people, infusing a new spirit into them, that the fury of it began sensibly to abate about noone, so as it came no farther than ye Temple Westward, nor than ye entrance of Smithfield North; but continu'd all this day and night so impetuous towards Cripplegate and the Tower, as made us all despaire: it also broke out againe in the Temple, but the courage of the multitude persisting, and many houses being blown up, such gaps and desolations were soone made, as with the former three days' consumption, the back fire did not so vehemently urge upon the rest as formerly. There was yet no standing neere the burning and glowing ruines by neere a furlong's space. "The poore inhabitants were dispers'd about St George's Fields, and Moorefields, as far as Highgate, and severall miles in circle, some under tents, some under miserable butts and hovells, many without a rag or any necessary utensills, bed or board, who from delicatenesse, riches, and easy accommodations in stately and well-furnish'd houses, were now reduc'd to extreamest misery and poverty. 'In this calamitous condition I return'd with a sad heart to my house, blessing and adoring the mercy of God to me and mine, who in the midst of all this ruine was like Lot, in my little Zoar, safe and Bound. * An abbreviation for his majesty. Sept. 7.-I went this morning on foote from Whitehall as far as London Bridge, thro' the late Fleete Streete, Ludgate Hill, by St Paules, Cheape side, Exchange, Bishopsgate, Aldersgate, and out to Moorefields, thence thro' Cornehille, &c., with extraordinary difficulty, clambering over heaps of yet smoking rubbish, and frequently mistaking where I was. The ground under my feete was so hot, that it even burnt the soles of my shoes. In the mean time his Maty got to the Tower by water, to demolish ye houses about the graff, which being built intirely about it, had they taken fire and attack'd the White Tower where the magazine of powder lay, would undoubtedly not only have beaten downe and destroy'd all ye bridge, but sunke and torne the vessells in ye river, and render'd ye demolition beyond all expression for several miles about the countrey. 'At my return I was infinitely concern'd to find that goodly Church St Paules now a sad ruine, and that beautifull portico (for structure comparable to any in Europe, as not long before repair'd by the King) now rent in pieces, flakes of vast stone split asunder, and nothing remaining intire but the inscription in the architrave, shewing by whom it was built, which had not one letter of it defac'd. It was astonishing to see what immense stones the heat had in a manner calcin'd, so that all ye ornaments, columns, freezes, and projectures of massie Portland stone flew off, even to ye very roofe, where a sheet of lead covering a great space was totally mealted ; the ruines of the vaulted roofe falling broke into St Faith's, which being fill'd with the magazines of bookes belonging to ye stationers, and carried thither for safety, they were all consum'd, burning for a weeke following. It is also observable that ye lead over ye altar at ye East end was untouch'd, and among the divers monuments, the body of one Bishop remain'd intire. Thus lay in ashes that most venerable Church, one of the most antient pieces of early piety in ye Christian world, besides neere 100 more. The lead, yron worke, bells, plate, &c. mealted; the exquisitely wrought Mercers Chapell, the sumptuous Exchange, ye august fabriq of Christ Church, all ye rest of the Companies Halls, sumptuous buildings, arches, all in dust; the fountaines dried up and ruin'd whilst the very waters remain'd boiling; the vorrago's of 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 unconsum'd, nor many stones but what were calcin'd white as snow. The people who now walk'd about ye ruines appear'd like men in a dismal desart, or rather in some greate citty laid waste by a cruel enemy; to which was added the stench that came from some poore creatures bodies, beds, &c. Sir Tho. Gresham's statue, tho' fallen from its nich in the Royal Exchange, remain'd intire, when all those of ye Kings since ye Conquest were broken to pieces, also the standard in Cornehill, and Q. Elizabeth's effigies, with some armes on Ludgate, continued with but little detriment, whilst the vast yron chaines of the Cittie streetes, hinges, bars and gates of prisons, were many of them mealted and reduced to cinders by ye vehement heate. I was not able to passe through any of the narrow streetes, but kept the widest, the ground and aire, smoake and fiery vapour, continu'd so intense that my haire was almost sing'd, and my feete unsufferably surheated. The bie lanes and narrower streetes were quite fill'd up with rubbish, nor could one have knowne where he was, but by ye ruines of some Church or Hall, that had some remarkable tower or pinnacle remaining. I then went towards Islington and Highgate, where one might have seene 200,000 people of all ranks and degrees dispers'd and lying along by their heapes of what they could save from the fire, deploring their losse, and tho' ready to perish for hunger and destitution, yet not asking one penny for relief, which to me appear'd a stranger sight than any I had yet beheld.' RELICS OF LONDON SURVIVING THE FIRE. At the time of the Great Fire, the walls of the City enfolded the larger number of its inhabitants. Densely packed they were in fetid lanes, overhung by old wooden houses, where pestilence had committed the most fearful ravages, and may be said to have always remained in a subdued form ready to burst forth. Suburban houses straggled along the great highways to the north; but the greater quantity lined the bank of the Thames toward Westminster, where court and parliament continually drew strangers. George Wither, the Puritan SURVIVING THE FIRE. He That industrious and accurate artist, Wenceslaus Hollar, busied himself from his old point of view, the tower of St Mary Overies, or, as it is now called, St Saviour's, Southwark, in delineating the appearance of the city as it lay in ruins. afterwards engraved this, contrasting it with its appearance before the fire. From its contemplation, the awful character of the visitation can be fully felt. Within the City walls, and stretching beyond them to Fetter Lane westwardly, little but ruins remain; a few walls of public buildings, and a few church towers, mark certain great points for the eye to detect where busy streets once were. The whole of the City was burned to the walls, except a small portion to the north-east. have, consequently, lost in London all those ancient edifices of historic interest-churches crowded with memorials of its inhabitants, and buildings consecrated by their associations that give so great a charm to many old cities. The few relics of these left by the fire have become fewer, as changes have been made in our streets, or general alterations demanded by modern taste. It will be, however, a curious and not unworthy labour to briefly examine what still remains of Old London edifices erected before the fire, by which we may gain some idea of the general character of the old city. We Of its grand centre-the Cathedral of St Paulwe can now form a mental photograph when contemplating the excellent views of interior and exterior, as executed by Hollar for Dugdale's noble history of the sacred edifice. It was the pride of the citizens, although they permitted its 'longdrawn aisles' to be degraded into a public promenade, a general rendezvous for the idle and the dissolute. The authors, particularly the dramatic, of the Elizabethan and Jacobean eras, abound with allusions to the walks in Paul's;' and Dekker, in his Gull's Hornbook, devotes due space to the instruction of a young gallant, new upon town, how he is to behave in this test of London dandyism. The poor hangers-on of these newfledged gulls, the Captains Bobadil, et hoc genus omne, hung about the aisles all day if they found no one to sponge upon. Hence came the phrase, to dine with Duke Humphrey,' as the tomb of that nobleman was the chief feature of the middle aisle; despite, however, of its general appropriation to him, it was in reality the tomb of Sir John Beauchamp, son to the Earl of Warwick, who died in 1538-having lived at Baynard's Castle, a palatial residence on the banks of the Thames, also destroyed in the fire. The next important monument in the Old Cathedral was that of Sir Christopher Hatton, the famous dancing chancellor' of Queen Elizabeth; and of this some few fragments remain, and are still preserved in the crypt of the present building. Along with them are placed other portions of monuments, to Sir Nicholas, the father of the great Lord Bacon; of Dean Colet, the founder of St Paul's School; and of the poet, *See a picture of Old St Paul's in our first volume, p. 423. Dr John Donne. The reflective eye will rest with much interest on these relics of the past, but especially on that of Donne, which has wonderfully withstood the action of the fire, and exactly agrees with Walton's description, in his memoir of the poet-dean, who lapped himself in his shroud, and so stood as a model to Nicholas Stone as he sculptured the work. Near St Paul's, on the south side of Basing Lane, there existed, until a very few years since, the pillared vaults of an old Norman house, known as Gerrard's Hall; it is mentioned by Stow as the residence of John Gisors, mayor of London, 1245. It was an interesting and beautiful fragment; but after having withstood the changes of centuries, and the great fire in all its fury, it succumbed to the city improvements, and New Cannon Street now passes over its site. The old Guildhall, a favourable specimen of the architecture of the fifteenth century, withstood the fire bravely; portions of the old walls were incorporated with the restorations, and from a window in the library may still be seen one of the ancient south windows of the hall; it is a fair example of the perpendicular style, measuring 21 feet in height by 7 in width. The crypt beneath the hall is worth inspection, and so is the eastern side of the building. Such are the few fragments left us of all that the devouring element passed over. We shall, however, still find much of interest in that small eastern side of the city which escaped its ravages. At the angle where Mark Lane meets Fenchurch CHURCH OF ALL-HALLOWS STAINING. Street, behind the houses, is the picturesque church of All-hallows Staining, in the midst of a quaint old square of houses, with a churchyard and a few The crypt of Bow Church is of early work, so early as to have been called Roman-but it is very probably Saxon-and has been carefully drawn and published by the Society of Antiquaries in their Vetusta Monumenta. Wren chose it for the substructure of this church when he re-erected it after the fire; and when the security of his famous steeple was mooted, declared there was no safer place he wished to be in during any hurricane. SURVIVING THE FIRE, trees, giving it a singularly old-world look. The tower and a portion of the west end alone are ancient; the church escaped the fire, but the body of the building fell in, 1671 a. D. In this church, the Princess (afterwards Queen) Elizabeth performed her devotions, May 19, 1554, on her release from the Tower. The churchwarden's accounts contain some curious entries of rejoicings by bellringing on great public events.† The church of All-hallows, Barking, at the end of Tower Street, presents many features of interest, and helps us best to understand what we have lost by the Great Fire. One of the finest Flemish brasses in England is still upon its floor; it is most elaborately engraved and enamelled, and is to the memory of one Andrew Evyngar and his wife (circa 1535). Another, to that of William Thynne, calls up a grateful remembrance, that to him we owe, in 1532, the first edition of the works of that 'well of English undefiled'-Geoffrey Chaucer. Other brasses and quaint old tombs cover floor and walls. Here the poetic Earl of Surrey was hurriedly buried after his execution; so was Bishop Fisher, the friend of More; and Archbishop Laud ignominiously in the churchyard, but afterwards removed to honourable sepulture in St John's College, Oxford. Keeping northward, across Tower Hill, we enter Crutched-friars, where stand the alms-houses erected by Sir John Milborn in 1535. He built them in honor of God, and of the Virgin;' and it is a somewhat remarkable thing, that a bas-relief representing the Assumption of the Virgin, in the conventional style of the middle ages, still remains over the entrance-gate. St Olave, Hart Street, is the next nearest old church. Seen from the churchyard, it is a quaint and curious bit of Old London, with its churchyard-path and trees. Here lies Samuel Pepys, the diarist, to whom we all are so much indebted for the striking picture of the days of Charles II. he has left to us. He lived in the parish, and often mentions 'our own church' in his diary. Upon the walls, we still see the tablet he placed to the memory of his wife. There are also tablets to William Turner, who published the first English Herbal in 1568; and to the witty and poetic comptroller of the navy, Sir John Mennys, who wrote some of the best poems in the Musarum Delicia, 1656. St Catherine Cree, on the north side of Leadenhall Street, was rebuilt in 1629, and is chiefly remarkable for its consecration by Archbishop Laud, with an amount of ceremonial observance, particularly as regarded the communion, which led to an idea of his belief in transubstantiation, and was made one of the principal charges against him. The church contains a good recumbent effigy of Queen Elizabeth's chief butler, Sir Nicholas Throgmorton; and an inscription to R. Spencer, Turkey It is an old London tradition, that she dined at the vice, off pork and peas;' an ancient metal dish and cover King's Head Tavern, in Fenchurch Street, after the seris still preserved in the tavern, and shewn as that used by her. Among them are payments for peals 'for joye of y execution of y Queene of Scots;' for the return to London from Feversham of King James II.; and only two days afterwards, with ready subservience, another peal as merrily announced the arrival of the Prince of Orange. This church was one of the four London churches in which James's unpopular Declaration of Indulgence' was read. merchant, recording his death in 1667, after he had 'seen the prodigious changes in the state, the dreadful triumphs of death by pestilence, and the astonishing conflagration of the city by fire.'* A little to the west, stands St Andrew Undershaft, abounding with quaint old associations. It takes its name from the high shaft of the May-pole, which the citizens used to set up before it, on every May-day, and which overtopped its tower. John Stow, who narrates this, lies buried within; and his monument, representing him at his literary labours, is one of the most interesting of its kind in London. It is not the only quaint mortuary memorial here worth looking on; there is among them the curious tomb of Sir Hugh Hammersley, with armed figures on each side. Opposite this church is a very fine Elizabethan house, from the windows of which the old inhabitants may have seen the setting-up of the old May-pole, and laughed at the tricks of the hobby-horse and fool, as they capered among the dancers. Passing up St Mary Axe, we shall notice many good old mansions of the resident merchantmen of the last two centuries; and at the corner of Bevis Marks, a very old public-house, rejoicing in the sign of the Blue Pig' The parish of St Helen's, Bishopsgate, is the most interesting in London for its many old houses. The area and courts known as Great St Helen's are particularly rich in fine examples, ranging from the time of Elizabeth to James II. No. 2 has a good doorway and staircase of the time of Charles I.; Nos. 3 and 4 are of Elizabethan date, with characteristic corbels; while Nos. 8 and 9 are modern subdivisions of a very fine brick mansion, dated 1646, and most probably the work of Inigo Jones. No. 9 still possesses a very fine chimney-piece and staircase of carved oak. Crosby Hall is of course the great feature of this district, and is one of the finest architectural relics of the fifteenth century left in London; yet, after escaping the great fire, and the many vicissitudes every building in the heart of London is subjected to, it had a very narrow escape in 1831 of being ruthlessly destroyed; and had it not been for the public spirit of a lady, Miss Hackett, who lived beside it, and who by her munificence shamed others into aiding her, this historic mansion would have passed away from sight. It is now used as a lecture-hall or for public meetings; and an excellently designed modern house, in antique taste, leads into it from Bishopsgate Street. The timber roof, with its elegant open tracery, and enriched octagonal corbels hanging therefrom, cannot be exceeded by any archi There is a curious old gate to what was once the watch-house, at the east end of the church. It bears the inscription, "This gate was built at the cost and charges of William Avenon, Citizen and Gouldsmith of London, who died December, anno dni 1631.' Above it is sculptured a representation of the donor, as a skeleton in a shroud lying on a mattress. +Stow lived in Aldgate; the district still retains a few old houses near the famous pump, and the remains of the once celebrated Saracen's Head Inn. Some of the butchers' shops just past the Minories are very old, and one bears the badges of the French ambassador, temp. Eliz. This is evidently a vulgar corruption of the Blue Boar,' the badge of King Richard III., who resided in the immediate neighbourhood when Duke of Gloucester. This is a curious instance of the long endurance of an old party-memorial, transformed into a London vulgarism. SURVIVING THE FIRE. tectural relic of its age; the Oriel window is also of great beauty. It was built by Sir John Crosby, a rich merchant, between 1466-1475, and his widow parted with it to Richard Plantagenet, Duke of Gloucester, afterwards Richard III. Its contiguity to the Tower, where the king, Henry VI., was confined, and the unfortunate princes after him, rendered this a peculiarly convenient residence for the unscrupulous duke. Shakspeare has immortalised the place by laying one of the scenes of his great historical drama there. Gloucester, after directing the assassins to murder Clarence, adds: 'When you have done, repair to Crosby Place.' Here, indeed, were the guilty plots hatched and consummated that led Richard through blood to the crown; and Shakspeare must have pondered over this old place, then more perfect and beautiful than now, for we know from the parish assessments, that he was a resident in St Helen's in 1598, and must have lived in a house of importance from the sum levied. The tomb of Sir John Crosby is in the adjoining church of St Helen's, and is one of the finest remaining in any London church; it has upon it the recumbent figures of himself and wife. The knight is fully armed, but wears over all his mantle as alderman, and round his neck a collar of suns and roses, the badge of the House of York. In this church also lies Sir Thomas Gresham, another of our noblest old merchantmen; and 'the rich' Sir John Spencer, from whom the Marquises of Northampton have derived-by marriage-so large a portion of their revenues. Passing up Bishopsgate Street, we may note many old houses, and a few inns, as well as the quaint church of St Ethelburgha. In the house known as Crosby Hall Chambers, is a very fine chimneypiece, dated 1635. Many houses in this district are old, but have been new fronted and modernised. There is an Elizabethan house at the north corner of Houndsditch, and another at the corner of Devonshire Street, which has over one of its fireplaces the arms of Henry Wriothesley, Earl of Southampton, the friend of Shakspeare. But the glory of the neighbourhood is the house of Sir Paul Pinder, nearly opposite; the finest old private house remaining in London. The quaint beauty of the façade is enhanced by an abundance of rich ornamental details, and the ceiling of the firstfloor is a wonder of elaboration and beauty. Sir Paul was a Turkey merchant of great wealth, resident ambassador at Constantinople for upwards of nine years, in the early part of the reign of James I. He died in 1650, a worthie benefactor to the poore.' Returning a few hundred yards, we get again within the Old-London boundary; and crossing Broad Street, the small church of Allhallows-onthe-Wall marks the site of a still smaller one of very ancient date; the wall beside it is upon the foundation of the old wall that encircled London, and which may be still traced at various parts of its course round the city, and is always met with in deep excavations. Passing the church, we see to *In digging for the foundations of the railway arches across Haydon Square, in the Minories, a very perfect portion of the old Roman Wall was exhumed; and a still inore interesting fragment remained on Tower Hill but a very few years since. It has now been converted into a party-wall for enormous factories. In digging for their our left Great Winchester Street, which, in spite of some recent modernisation, is the most curious old street remaining within the city boundary, inasmuch as all its houses are old on both sides of GREAT WINCHESTER STREET. the way; about forty years ago, when the above sketch was made, it gave a perfect idea of a better-class street before the great fire. In the angle of this street, leading into Broad Street, are some fine old brick mansions of the Jacobean era; and to the west lies Carpenter's Hall, with curious paintings of the sixteenth century on its walls, ancient records and plate in its munimentroom, and a large garden; joining on to the still larger Drapers Garden, interesting examples of 'town-gardens' existing untouched from the middle ages. Austin Friars is contiguous: the old church here is a portion of the monastic building erected in 1354; the window-tracery is extremely elegant. Unfortunately, it is now a roofless ruin, injured by a fire last year, and no steps yet taken for its reparation; and thus another of our few historic monuments may soon pass away from the City. Keeping again to the line of the Old-London wall westward, we pass Coleman Street, and note some few good Elizabethan houses. Then comes Sion College, which was seriously injured, and one-third of the library consumed by the great fire. Aldermanbury Postern, nearly opposite, marks the site of a small gate, or 'postern' in the City wall leading to Finsbury Fields; the favourite resort of the Londoners in the summer evenings. 'And Hogsdone, Islington, and Tothnam-court, For cakes and creame, had then no small resort.' So says George Wither, writing in 1628. To the foundation, the workmen came down to virgin soil, and exposed the Roman substructure, supporting the medieval work. It was founded on enormous blocks, projecting beyond its face; the rows of bounding tiles, and the original facing-stones of the wall, were perfect to the height of fifteen feet, and above that the additions rose as high again. eagerness of those in SURVIVING THE FIRE. populous city pent,' to get out of its bounds, he testifies from his own observation : 'Some coached were, some horsed, and some walked, The alms-houses of the Clothworkers' Company occupy the angle of the City wall at Cripplegate; beneath the small chapel is a fine crypt in the Norman style, built of Caen stone, the groining decorated with zigzag moulding and spiral ornament. It is a fragment of the old 'Hermitage of St James on the Wall,' and is a graceful and interesting close to our survey, for the fire travelled thus far to the north-west, and left the City no other early relics. Passing outside the City bounds, and into the churchyard of St Giles's, Cripplegate, a very fine piece of the old wall may be seen, with a circular bastion at the angle, the upper part now converted into a garden for the alms-houses just spoken of. Another bastion, to the south, was converted by Inigo Jones into an apsidal termination of BarberSurgeon's Hall. The church tower is a stone erection, the body of the church of brick, inside are monuments, second in interest to none. Here lies Fox, the martyrologist; Frobisher, the traveller; Speed, the historian; and one of England's greatest poets and noblest men-John Milton. The churchregister records the marriage here of Oliver Cromwell. The range of houses in the main street, and the quaint old church-gate, were built in the year 1660; so short a time before the fire, that we may study in them the latest fashions' of London-street architecture at that period. As there are some quaint and interesting buildings in the suburbs of this side of London, we may bestow a brief notice upon them, more particularly as they help us to comprehend its past state. There are still some Elizabethan houses leading toward Barbican; a few years ago, there were very many in this district. In Golden Lane, opposite, is the front of the old theatre, by some London topographers considered to be "The Fortune,' by which Edward Alleyn, the founder of Dulwich College, house, called "The Nursery, intended to be used as made his estate; others say it is Killigrew's playa school for young actors. Pepys records a visit there, in his quaint style, when he found the musique better than we looked for, and the acting not much worse, because I expected as bad as could be.' There is a very old stucco representation of the Royal Arms and supporters over the door. Aldersgate Street preserves the remains of a noble town-house, erected by Inigo Jones for the Earls of Thanet; its name soon changed to Shaftes bury House, by which it is best known. On the opposite side, higher up the street, 'the City Auctionrooms' are in a fine old mansion, with some pleasing enrichments of Elizabethan character. A short street beyond Barbican leads into a quiet square, and the entrance to Sutton's noble foundation-the Charter House. It still preserves much of its monastic look. The entrance-gate is of the fifteenth century, and over it was once placed the mangled |