To dews obnoxious on the grassy floor,

And while their babes in sleep their sorrow drown,

Sad parents watch the remnant of their store.”

One thing is certain: for the working man there was no lack of employment; thousands were wanted to clear away the rubbish, to get the streets in order, to take down shaky walls, to make bricks, to dig out foundations, to do carpenter’s work and all those things required for the creation of a new London. And as for the artificers, they were wanted to restore the stocks of the traders as quickly as might be. Labour was never in such request before in all the history of London.

A PLAN of the CITY and LIBERTIES of LONDON after the Dreadful Conflagration in the Year 1666. The Blank Part whereof represents the Ruins and Extent of the Fire, & the Perspective that left standing.

From a contemporary print.

Twenty-five years later they were congratulating themselves on the changed and improved condition of the City. The writer of Anglia Metropolis, or the Present State of London,[10] says:—

“As if the Fire had only purged the City, the buildings are infinitely more beautiful, more commodious, more solid (the three main virtues of all edifices) than before. They have made their streets much more large and straight, paved on each side with smooth free stone, and guarded the same with many massy posts for the benefit of foot passengers: and whereas before they dwelt in low dark wooden houses, they now live in lofty, lightsome, uniform, and very stately brick buildings.”

Of the wooden houses commonly found in London before the Fire you will find one or two specimens still left—fifty years ago there were many. One such is in the Churchyard of St. Giles, Cripplegate. As to the total destruction of the houses I am in some doubt; I have already mentioned one court called the Fleur de Lys, Blackfriars, which escaped the Fire. The same fact that probably saved this Court may have saved other places. Strype, for instance, mentions a house in Aldersgate Street which survived the Fire. There were, again, many houses partially destroyed, some accident arresting the Fire, and there were many walls which could be used again. These considerations are confirmed by an examination of Hollar’s minute picture of London immediately after the Fire. In this picture all the churches are presented as standing with their towers; they are roofless and their windows are destroyed, but they are standing. It would be interesting to learn how much of these old walls and towers were used in the new buildings. Half the houses on London Bridge are gone, and the Bridge is evidently cleared of rubbish. Part of the front of Fishmongers’ Hall is still standing; All Hallows the Less, which appears to have been quite a small church, has no tower, but its walls are standing. Between that church and the river is a space covered with ruins, in the midst of which stands a pillar. The Water Gate remains at Cold Harbour; part of the front and the quay of the Steelyard, and a small part of the roof at the east end of St. Paul’s still remain, melancholy to look upon; the square port of Queenhithe is surrounded by fallen houses; the steeple of the Royal Exchange stands over the ruins; the river front of Baynard’s Castle still stands, but the eastern side is in ruins; the place is evidently gutted. In all directions there are walls, gables, whole houses standing among heaps and mounds of rubbish.