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 was non 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.