"The conflagration was so universal, and the people so astonish'd, that from the beginning I know not by what despondency or fate, they hardly stirr'd to quench it, so that there was nothing heard or seene 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 streete to streete, at greate distances one from ye other; for ye heat with a long set of faire and warm weather had even ignited the aire and prepared the materials to conceive the fire, which devour'd after an incredible manner houses, furniture, and every thing. Here we saw the Thames cover'd with goods floating, all the barges and boates laden with what some had time and courage to save, as, on ye other, ye carts, &c., carrying out to the fields, which for many miles were strew'd 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 seene since the foundation of it, nor be outdon till the universal conflagration thereof. All the skie was of a fiery aspect, like the top of a burning oven, and the light seene above 40 miles round about for many nights. God grant mine eyes may never behold the like, who now saw above 10,000 houses all in one flame; the noise and cracking and thunder of the impetuous flames, ye shrieking of women and children, the hurry of people, the fall of towers, houses and churches was like a hideous storme and the aire all about so hot and inflam'd that at the last one was not able to approach it, so that they were forc'd to stand still and let ye flames burn on, which they did neere two miles in length and one in breadth. The clouds also of smoke were dismall and reach'd upon computation neer 50 miles in length. Thus I left it this afternoone burning, a resemblance of Sodom, or the last day. It forcibly call'd to mind that passage—non enim hic habemus stabilem civitatem: the ruines resembling the picture of Troy. London was, but is no more."—(Sept. 3rd, 1666.)
Can we be surprised at the bewildered feelings of the people? Rather must we admire the practical and heroic conduct of the homeless multitude. It took long to rebuild the city, but directly anything could be done the workers were up and doing.
An Act of Parliament was passed "for erecting a Judicature for determination of differences touching Houses burned or demolished by reason of the late Fire which happened in London" (18 and 19 Car. II., cap. 7), and Sir Matthew Hale was the moving spirit in the planning it and in carrying out its provisions when it was passed. Burnet affirms that it was through his judgment and foresight "that the whole city was raised out of its ashes without any suits of law" (History of his Own Time, Book ii.). By a subsequent Act (18 and 19 Car. II., cap. 8) the machinery for a satisfactory rebuilding of the city was arranged. The rulings of the judges appointed by these Acts gave general satisfaction, and after a time the city was rebuilt very much on the old lines, and things went on as before.[10] At one time it was supposed that the fire would cause a westward march of trade, but the city asserted the old supremacy when it was rebuilt.
South-West View of Old St. Paul's.
Three great men, thoroughly competent to give valuable advice on the rebuilding of the city, viz., Wren, Robert Hooke, and Evelyn, presented to the King valuable plans for the best mode of arranging the new streets, but none of these schemes was accepted. One cannot but regret that the proposals of the great architect were not carried out.
With the reference to the Plague and the Great Fire we may conclude this brief account of the later Stuart London. The picturesque, but dirty, houses were replaced by healthier and cleaner ones. The West End increased and extended its borders, but the growth to the north of Piccadilly was very gradual. All periods have their chroniclers, but no period has produced such delightful guides to the actual life of the town as the later half of the seventeenth century did in the pages of Evelyn and Pepys. It must ever be a sincere regret to all who love to understand the more intimate side of history that Pepys did not continue his Diary to a later period. We must, however, be grateful for what we possess, and I hope this slight and imperfect sketch of Pepys's London may refresh the memories of my readers as to what the London of that time was really like.