Yet human agency of some kind was, of course, admitted to be at the bottom. The Republicans, the Dutch, and the French, were suspected; the opinion most prevalent being that the Papists were authors of the mischief.
This idea extensively prevailed. Probably it helped to induce the House of Commons first to present a petition to His Majesty asking for the banishment of priests and Jesuits, for the enforcement of the laws against them, and all other Roman Catholics, and for disarming everybody who refused the Oaths of Allegiance and Supremacy; and secondly, to resolve that all the members of the House should receive the Lord's Supper, under penalty of imprisonment for refusal.[510] Certainly, upon the return of Gunpowder Plot Day, the inculpation of the Papists kindled anew the eloquence of the clergy, and strengthened the stock argument that the "Mother of Abominations" remained unchanged. Yet the evidence adduced to establish the guilt of the accused was utterly unsatisfactory. The only person convicted was a Frenchman, and his conviction rested on his own assertion that he had fired the City—an assertion which must have proceeded from a morbid love of notoriety, or from some other unaccountable freak—for the fellow, at the gallows, just before being turned off, acknowledged that what he had said was altogether a lie. No doubt, the conclusion reached by the Government is correct,—"That, notwithstanding that many examinations have been taken, with great care, by the Lords of the Council and His Majesty's Ministers, yet nothing hath been yet found to argue it to have been other than the hand of God upon us, a great wind, and the season so very dry."[511]
1666.
Baxter, speaking of the state of London just before the fire, observes, that in the larger parishes—for example, St. Martin's, St. Giles' Cripplegate, and Stepney—there were 60,000 inhabitants each; that in others, as in St. Giles'-in-the-Fields and St. Sepulchre's, there were about 30,000, in others about 20,000. For these parishes the churches afforded insufficient accommodation; indeed, the fourth part of the people would not have found room in them had such a proportion been disposed to attend public worship. He speaks of a sixth or a tenth, as the proportion for which space in the parochial edifices was available.[512] The fire, by destroying so many buildings, deprived very many people of instruction and worship in the Establishment; and little was done immediately towards repairing the evil. Houses were restored, but churches were neglected. Burnet relates, that in 1669, "when the City was pretty well rebuilt, they began to take care of the churches, which had lain in ashes some years;"[513] and Baxter, writing in the year 1675, affirms that few of the churches burnt in the fire had been re-edified.[514]
The Nonconformists exerted themselves in this emergency.[515] The parish Incumbents having left London for want of incomes and of dwelling-places, the ejected ministers came forward to occupy the deserted fields of labour, and resolved, that amidst the ruins they would preach until they were imprisoned. Dr. Manton opened his rooms in Covent Garden, and there gathered a congregation. Dr. Jacomb, for that purpose, used an apartment in the house of the Countess of Exeter. Dr. Annesley, Messrs. Vincent, Doolittle, and Franklin, and other Presbyterians, either occupied chapels, with pulpits, seats, and galleries, hastily erected, to supply the deficiency—"churches of boards," called "tabernacles,"[516]—or large rooms fitted up in some extempore fashion for a like purpose. What had been before done covertly was now done openly; and the Independents, allowing for their numbers, were not behind the Presbyterians in activity. Owen, Goodwin, Nye, Brooke, Caryl, and Griffiths, to mention no more, publicly engaged in religious ministrations wherever they were able, at a time when the parish churches were lying in ruins.
SCOTLAND.
Scarcely had the ashes grown cold when tidings came of a religious rising north of the Tweed. A Proclamation was issued at Edinburgh on the 11th of October, 1666, enforcing the laws against Papists and against Protestant Nonconformists, and requiring that masters, who were all held responsible for their families, and that landlords, who were all made accountable for their tenants, should abstain from repairing to Conventicles, and should attend the Established Church. Sir James Turner was despatched to execute the mandate, and he accomplished its execution with a severity which provoked most violent opposition.
Declaring for liberty of conscience, and also for what was perhaps still more popular—freedom from taxation—the insurgents, although armed, and of formidable appearance, avoided collision with the soldiers, and employed tactics simply defensive. They cut down bridges, and destroyed boats to avoid pursuit, and then hastened towards the Scotch capital, hoping to receive assistance from the citizens. Disappointed in this respect, they retreated to the Pentland Hills, where they were attacked by the Royal Army, and completely routed, after leaving 500 of their comrades dead on the field. Horrid tortures were inflicted on those who were taken prisoners; sixteen of them were executed at Edinburgh, and four at Glasgow—all with their dying breath denouncing Prelacy, laying the shedding of their blood at the Bishops' doors, praying for the King, and begging the Almighty to take away the wicked from about the throne. The disgusting details are related with still more disgusting barbarity by correspondents in Scotland, who sent to London intelligence upon the subject.[517]
1666.
The report in England of fanaticism on the one hand, and cruelty on the other, exasperated both Churchmen and Nonconformists. The former had their suspicions strengthened as to the rebellious intentions attributed to Presbyterians; and the latter were indignant at the vengeance wreaked upon men whom they believed to be sufferers for conscience' sake.