236

REVIEW.-Memoirs of Samuel Pepys, Esq.

Of the freedom indulged in the pulpit, he gives the following specimen: Early to White Hall, to the Chapel, where by Mr. Blagrave's means I got into a pew, and heard Dr. Creeton the great Scotchman, and Chaplain in Ordinary to the King, preach before the King, and Duke and Duchesse, upon the words of Micah, Roule yourselves in dust.' He made a most learned sermon upon the words; but in his application the most comical man that ever I heard in my life. Just such a man as Hugh Peters, saying that it had been better for the poor. Cavalier never to have come with the King into England again; for he that hath the impudence to deny obedience to the lawful magistrate, and to swear to the oath of allegiance, was better treated now adays in Newgate, than a poor Royalist that hath suffered all his life for the King is at Whitehall among his friends." The following description of the Fire of London will be found interesting:

"Sept. 2. Lord's day. Some of our maids sitting up late last night to get things ready against our feast to day, Jane called us up about three in the morning to tell us of a great fire they saw in the City. So I rose and slipped on my night-gown, and went to her window, and thought to be on the back side of Marke-lane at the farthest, but being unused to such fires as followed, I thought it far enough off, and so went to bed again and to sleep. About seven rose again to dress myself, and there looked out at the window, and saw the fire not so much as it was, and further off. So to my closet to set things to rights, after yesterday's cleaning. By and and by Jane comes and tells me that she hears that above 300 houses have been burned down to-night by the fire we saw, and that it is now burning down all Fish-street, by London Bridge. So I made myself ready presently, and walked to the Tower, and there got up upon one of the high places, Sir J. Robinson's little son going up with me; and there I did see the houses at that end of the bridge all on fire, and an infinite great fire on this and the other side the end of the bridge; which, among other people, did trouble me for poor little Michell and our Sarah on the bridge. So down with my heart full of trouble to the Lieutenant of the Tower, who tells me that it begun this morning in the King's baker's house in Pudding-lane, and that it hath burned down St. Magnes Church, and most part of Fish-street already. So I down to the water-side, and there got a boat, and through bridge, and there saw a lamentable fire. Poor Michell's house as far as the Old Swan already burned that way, and the fire running further, that in a very little time it got as far as the Steele-yard, while I was there.

* His name was Faryner.

[Sept.

Every body endeavouring to remove their
goods, and flinging into the river, or bring-
ing them into lighters that lay off; poor
people staying in their houses as long as till
the very fire touched them, and then run-
ning into boats, or clambering from one
pair of stairs by the water-side to another.
And among other things, the poor pigeons,
I perceive, were loth to leave their houses,
but hovered about the windows and bal-
conys, till they burned their wings, and fell
down. Having staid, and in an hour's time
seen the fire rage every way, and nobody to
my sight endeavouring to quench it, but to
remove their goods and leave all to the fire,
and having seen it get as far as the Steele-
yard, and the wind mighty high, and driving
it into the city; and every thing after so
the very stones of Churches, and among
long a drought proving combustible, even
other things, the poor steeple + by which
pretty Mrs.
lives, and whereof my
schoolfellow Elborough is parson, taken fire
in the very top, and there burned till it fell
down: I to White-Hall (with a gentleman
with me, who desired to go off from the
Tower, to see the fire in my boat); and
there up to the King's closet in the Chapel,
where people come about me, and I did give
them an account dismayed them all, and
word was carried into the King. So I was
called for, and did tell the King and Duke
of York, what I saw, and that unless his
Majesty did command houses to be pulled
down, nothing could stop the fire. They
seemed much troubled, and the King com-
manded me to go to my Lord Mayor from
him, and commanded him to spare no
houses, but to pull down before the fire.
every way. The Duke of York bid me tell
him, that if he would have any more
soldiers he shall; and so did my Lord Ar-
lington afterwards, as a great secret. Here
meeting with Captain Cocke, I in his coach,
which he lent me, and Creed with me to
Paul's, and there walked along Watling-
street as well as I could, every creature
coming away loaden with goods to save,
and here and there sick people carried away
in beds. Extraordinary good goods carried
in carts and on backs. At last met my
Lord Mayor in Canning-street, like a man
spent, with a handkercher about his neck.
To the King's message, he cried, like a
fainting woman, Lord! what can I do? I
am spent: people will not obey me. I have
been pulling down houses; but the fire
overtakes us faster than we can do it.' That
he needed no more soldiers, and that, for
himself, he must go and refresh himself,
having been up all night. So he left me,
and I him, and walked home; seeing people
all almost distracted, and no manner of

+ St. Lawrence Poultney, of which Thomas Elborough was curate.

Sir Thomas Bludworth.

means

1825.]

REVIEW.-Memoirs of Samuel Pepys, Esq.

means used to quench the fire. The houses too so very thick thereabouts, and full of matter for burning, as pitch and tar, in Thames-street; and warehouses of oyle, and wines, and brandy, and other things. Here I saw Mr. Isaac Houblon, the handsome man, prettily dressed and dirty at his door at Dowgate, receiving some of his brother's things, whose houses were on fire; and, as he says, have been removed twice already; and he doubts (as it soon proved) that they must be in a little time removed from his house also, which was a sad consideration. And to see the Churches all filling with goods by people, who themselves should have been quietly there at this time. By this time it was about twelve o'clock; and so home, and there find my guests, who were Mr. Wood and his wife, Barbary Sheldon, and also Mr. Moone: she mighty fine, and her husband, for aught I see, a likely

man.

But Mr. Moone's design and mine, which was to look over my closet, and please him with the sight thereof, which he hath long desired, was wholly disappointed; for we were in great trouble and disturbance at this fire, not knowing what to think of it. However, we had an extraordinary good dinner, and as merry as at this time we could be. While at dinner Mrs. Bateller come to euquire after Mr. Woolfe and Stanes (who it seems are related to them), whose houses in Fish-street are all burned, and they in a sad condition. She would not stay in the fright. Soon as dined, I and Moone away, and walked through the City, the streets full of nothing but people, and horses and carts loaden with goods, ready to run over one another, and removing goods from one burned house to another. They now removing out of Canning-street (which received goods in the morning) into Lumbardstreet, and further: and among others, I now saw my little goldsmith Stokes receiving some friend's goods, whose house itself was burned the day after. We parted at Paul's; he home, and I to Paul's Wharf, where I had appointed a boat to attend me, and took in Mr. Carcasse and his brother, whom I met in the street, and carried them below and above bridge too. And again to see the fire, which was now got further, both below and above, and no likelihood of stopping it. Met with the King and Duke of York in their barge, and with them to Queenhith, and there called Sir Richard Browne to them. Their order was only to pull down houses apace, and so below bridge at the Water-side; but little was or could be done, the fire coming upon them so fast. Good hopes there was of stopping it at the Three Cranes above, and at Buttolph's Wharf below bridge, if care be used; but the wind carries it into the City, so as we know not by the water-side what it do there. River full of lighters and boats taking in goods, and good goods swimming

237

in the water and only I observed that hardly one lighter or boat in three that had the goods of a house in, but there was a pair of virginalls in it. Having seen as much as I could now, I away to WhiteHall by appointment, and there walked to St. James's Park, and there met my wife and Creed, and Wood and his wife, and walked to my boat; and there upon the water again, and to the fire up and down, it still encreasing, and the wind great. So near the fire as we could for smoke; and all over the Thames, with one's faces in the wind, you were almost burned with a shower of fire-drops. This is very true; so as houses were burned by these drops and flakes of fire, three or four, nay, five or six houses, one from another. When we could endure no more upon the water, we to a little alehouse on the Bank-side, over against the Three Cranes, and there staid till it was dark almost, and saw the fire grow, and as it grew darker, appeared more and more, and in corners, and upon steeples, and between Churches and houses, as far as we could see up the hill of the City, in a most horrid malicious bloody flame, not like the fine flame of an ordinary fire. Barbary and her husband away before us. We staid till it being darkish, we saw the fire as only one entire arch of fire from this to the other side the bridge, and in a bow up the hill for an arch of above a mile long it made me weep to see it. The Churches, houses, and all on fire, and flaming at once; and horrid noise the flames made, and the cracking of houses at their ruine. So home with a sad heart, and there find every body discoursing and lamenting the fire; and poor Tom Hater come with some few of his goods saved out of his house, which was burned upon Fish-street Hill. I invited him to lie at my house, and did receive his goods, but was deceived in his lying there, the news coming every moment of the growth of the fire; so as we were forced to begin to pack up our own goods, and prepare for their removal; and did by moonshine (it being brave dry and moonshine, and warm weather) carry much of my goods into the garden, and Mr. Hater and I did remove my money and iron chests into my cellar, as thinking that the safest place. And got my bags of gold into my office, ready to carry away, and my chief papers of accounts also there, and my tallies into a box by themselves. So great was our fear, as Sir W. Batten hath carts come out of the country to fetch away his goods this night. We did put Mr. Hater, poor man, to bed a little; but he got but very little rest, so much noise being in my house, taking down of goods.

:

A sort of spinett, so called (according to Johnson) from young women playing upon it.

233

REVIEW.-Memoirs of Samuel Pepys, Esq.

"3rd. About four o'clock in the morning, my Lady Batten sent me a cart to carry away all my money, and plate, and best things, to Sir W. Rider's, at Bednallgreen. Which I did, riding myself in my nightgown in the cart; and, Lord! to see how the streets and the highways are crowded with people running and riding, and getting of carts at any rate to fetch away things. I find Sir W. Rider tired with being called up all night, and receiving things from several friends. His house full of goods, and much of Sir W. Batten's and Sir W. Pen's. I am eased at my heart to have my treasure so well secured. Then home, and with much ado to find a way, nor any sleep all this night to me nor my poor wife. But then all this day she and I, and all my people labouring, to get away the rest of our things, and did get Mr. Tooker to get me a lighter to take them in, and we did get them (myself some) over Tower-Hill, which was by this time full of people's goods, bringing their goods thither; and down to the lighter, which lay at the next quay above the Tower Dock. And here was my neighbour's wife Mrs. with her pretty child, and some few of her things, which I did willingly give way to be saved with mine; but there was no passing with any thing through the postern, the crowd was so great. The Duke of York come this day by the office, and spoke to us, and did ride with his guard up and down the City to keep all quiet (he being now General, and having the care of all). This day, Mercer being not at home, but against her mistress's order gone to her mother's, and my wife going thither to speak with W. Hewer, beat her there, and was angry; and her mother saying that she was not a 'prentice girl, to ask leave every time she goes abroad, my wife with good reason was angry; and when she come home bid her begone again. And so she went away, which troubled me, but yet less than it would, because of the condition we are in, in fear of coming in a little time to being less able to keep one in her quality. At night lay down a little upon a quilt of W.Hewer's, in the office, all my own things being packed up or gone; and after me my poor wife did the like, we having fed upon the remains of yesterday's dinner, having no fire nor dishes, nor any opportunity of dressing any thing.

4th. Up by break of day, to get away the remainder of my things, which I did by 8 lighter at the Iron gate and my hands so full, that it was the afternoon before we could get them all away. Sir W. Pen and I to the Tower-street, and there met the fire burning three or four doors beyond Mr. Howell's, whose goods, poor man, his trayes, and dishes, and shovells, &c. were flung all along Tower-street in the kennels, and people working therewith from one end to the other; the fire coming on in that

[Sept:

narrow street, on both sides, with infinite
fury. Sir W. Batten not knowing how to
remove his wine, did dig a pit in the garden,
and laid it in there; and I took the oppor-
tunity of laying all the papers of my office
that I could not otherwise dispose of. And
in the evening, Sir W. Pen and I did dig an-
other, and put our wine in it; and I my
parmazan cheese, as well as my wine and
some other things. The Duke of York was
at the office this day, at Sir W. Pen's; but
I happened not to be within. This after-
noon, sitting melancholy with Sir W. Pen
in our garden, and thinking of the certain
burning of this office, without extraordinary
means, I did propose for the sending up of
all our workmen from the Woolwich and
Deptford yards (none whereof yet appeared),
and to write to Sir W. Coventry to have
the Duke of York's permission to pull down
houses, rather than lose this office, which
would much injure the King's business. So
Sir W. Pen went down this night, in order
to the sending them up to-morrow morn-
ing; and I wrote to Sir W. Coventry about
the business*, but received no answer.
This night Mrs. Turner (who poor woman
was removing her goods all this day, good
goods into the garden, and knows not how
to dispose of them), and her husband supped
with my wife and me at night, in the office,'
upon a shoulder of mutton from the cook's,
without any napkin, or any thing, in a sadi
manner, but were merry. Only now and
then walking into the garden, saw how hor-
ribly the sky looks, all on a fire in the
night, was enough to put us out of our
wits; and, indeed, it was extremely dreadful,
for it looked just as if it was at us, and the
whole heaven on fire. I after supper walked
in the dark down to Tower-street, and there
saw it all on fire; at the Trinity-house on
that side, and the Dolphin tavern on this
side, which was very near us; and the fire
with extraordinary vehemence. Now begins
the practice of blowing up of houses in
Tower-street, those next the Tower, which
at first did frighten people more than any
thing; but it stopped the fire where it was
done, it bringing down the houses to the
ground in the same places they stood, and'
then it was easy to quench what little fire
was in it, though it kindled nothing almost.
W. Hewer went this day to see how his
mother did, and comes late home, telling
us how he hath been forced to remove her
to Islington, her house in Pye-corner being
burned so that the fire is got so far that
way, and to the Old Bayly, and was run
ning down to Fleet-street; and Paul's is
burned, and all Cheapside. I wrote to my

A copy of this letter is preserved among the Pepys MSS. in the author's own hand writing; and printed in vol. i. p. 450, of the Memoirs.

father

1825.]

REVIEW. Memoirs of Samuel Pepys, Esq.

father this night, but the post-office, being burned, the letter could not go.

5th. I lay down in this office again upon W. Hewer's quilt, being mighty weary, and sore in my feet, with going till I was hardly able to stand. About two in the morning my wife calls me up, and tells me of new cryes of fire, it being come to Bark ing Church, which is the bottom of our lane. I up; and finding it so, resolved presently to take her away; and did, and took my gold, which was about 2350 W. Hewer, and Jane, down by Proundy's boat to Woolwich; but, Lord! what a sad sight it was by moonlight to see the whole City almost on fire, that you might see it plain at Woolwich, as if you were by it. There, when I come, I find the gates shut, but no guard kept at all; which troubled me, be cause of discourses now begun, that there is a plot in it, and that the French had done it. I got the gates open, and to Mr. Shelden's, where I locked up my gold, and charged my wife and W. Hewer never to leave the room without one of them in it night nor day. So back again, by the way seeing my goods well in the lighters at Deptford, and watched well by people home, and whereas I expected to have seen our house on fire, it being now about seven o'clock, it was not. But to the fire, and there find greater hopes than I expected; for, my confidence of finding our office on fire was such, that I durst not ask any body how it was with us, till I come and saw it was not burned. But going to the fire, I find by the blowing up of houses, and the great help given by the workmen out of the King's Yards, sent up by Sir W. Pen, there is a good stop given to it, as well at Markelane end, as ours; it having only burned the dyall of Barking Church, and part of the porch, and was there quenched. I up to the top of Barking steeple, and there saw the saddest sight of desolation that I ever saw; every where great fires, oyle cellars, and brimstone, and other things, burning, I became afraid to stay there long, and therefore down again as fast as I could, the fire being spread as far as I could see it; and to Sir W. Pen's, and there eat a piece of cold meat, having eaten nothing since Sunday but the remains of Suuday's dinner. Here I met with Mr. Young and Whistler, and having removed all my things, and received good hopes that the fire at our end is stopped, they and I walked into the town, and find Fanchurch-street, Gracious-street, and Lumbard-street, all in dust. The Exchange a sad sight, nothing standing there, of all the statues or pillars, but Sir Thomas Gresham's picture in the corner. Into Moorefields (our feet ready to burn, walking

*Sething-lane,

+He forgot the shoulder of mutton from the cook's the day before.

239

through the town among the hot coles),
and find that full of people, and poor wretches
carrying their goods there, and every body
keeping his goods together by themselves
(and a great blessing it is to them that it is
fair weather for them to keep abroad night
and day); drunk there, and paid twopence
for a plain penny loaf. Thence homeward,
having passed through Cheapside, and New
gate-market, all burned; and seen Anthony
Joyce's house in fire. And took up (which
I keep by me) a piece of glass of Mercers'
Chapel, in the street, where much more
was, so melted and buckled with the heat of
the fire, like parchment; I also did see a
poor cat taken out of a hole in the chimney,
joyning to the wall of the Exchange, with
the hair all burnt off the body, and yet
alive. So home at night, and find there
good hopes of saving our office; but great
endeavours of watching all night, and having
men ready; and so we lodged them in the
office, and had drink and bread and cheese
for them. And I lay down and slept a good
night about midnight; though when I rose
I heard that there had been a great alarm of
French and Dutch being risen, which proved
nothing. But it is a strange thing to see
how long this time did look since Sunday,
having been always full of variety of actions,
and little sleep, that it looked like a week i
or more, and I had forgot almost the day of:
the week.

"6th. Up about five o'clock; and met Mr. Gauden at the gate of the office (I intending to go out, as I used, every now and then to-day, to see how the fire is), to call our men to Bishop's-gate, where no fire had yet been near, and there is now one broke out: which did give great grounds to people and to me too to think that there was a kind of plot in this (on which many by this time have been taken, and it hath been dangerous for any stranger to walk in the streets), but › I went with the men, and we did put it out in a little time, so that that was well again." It was pretty to see how hard the women did work in the cannells, sweeping of water; but then they should scold for drink, and be as drunk as devils. I saw good butts of sugar broke open in the street, and people give and take hands full out and put into beer, and drink it. And now all being pretty well, I took boat, and over to Southwarke, and took boat on the other side the bridge, and so to Westminster, thinking to shift myself, being all in dirt from top to bottom; but could not then find any place to buy a shirt or a pair of gloves, Westminster Hall being full of people's goods, i those in Westminster having removed all their goods, and the Exchequer money put into vessels to carry to Nonsuch *, but to the Swan, and there was trimmed: and then

* Nonsuch House near Epsom, where the Exchequer had been formerly kept.

to

240

REVIEW.-Dr. Parr's Letter to Dr. Milner.

to White-Hall, but saw nobody; and so home. A sad sight to see how the river looks no houses nor Church near it, to the Temple, where it stopped. At home did go with Sir W. Batten, and our neighbour, Knightly (who with one more, was the only inan of any fashion left in all the neighbourhood thereabouts, they all removing their goods, and leaving their houses to the mercy of the fire), to Sir R. Ford's, and there dined in an earthen platter-a fried breast of mutton; a great many of us, but very merry, and indeed as good a meal, though as ugly a one as ever I had in my life. Thence down to Deptford, and there with great satisfaction landed all my goods at Sir G. Carteret's, safe, and nothing missed, I could see or hear. This being done to my great content, I home, to Sir W. Batten's, and there with Sir R. Ford, Mr. Knightly, and one Withers, a professed lying rogue, supped well, and mighty merry, and our fears over. From them to the office, and there slept with the office full of labourers, who talked, and slept, and walked all night long there. But strange it is to see Clothworkers' Hall on fire, these three days and nights in one body of flame, it being the cellar full of oyle.

"7th. Up by five o'clock; and, blessed be God! find all well; and by water to Paul's Wharf. Walked thence, and saw all the towne burned, and a miserable sight of Paul's Church, with all the roofs fallen, and the body of the quire fallen into St. Fayth's; Paul's school also, Ludgate, and Fleetstreet. My father's house, and the Church, and a good part of the Temple the like. So to Creed's lodging near the New Exchange, and there find him laid down upon a bed; the house all unfurnished, there being fears of the fires coming to them. There borrowed a shirt of him, and washed. To Sir W. Coventry at St. James's, who lay without curtains, having removed all his goods; as the King at White-Hall, and every body had done, and was doing. He hopes we shall have no public distractions upon this fire, which is what every body fears, because of the talk of the French having a hand in it. And it is a proper time for discontents; but all men's minds are full of care to protect themselves, and save their goods: the militia is in arms every where. Our fleetes, he tells me, have been in sight one of another, and most unhappily by fowle weather were parted, to our great loss, as in reason they do conclude; the Dutch being come out only to make a shew, and please their people; but in very bad condition as to stores, victuals, and men. They are at Boulogne, and our fleete come to St. Ellen's. We have got nothing, but have lost one ship, but he knows not what. Thence to the Swan, and there drank and so home, and find all well. My Lord Brouncker, at Sir W. Batten's, tells us the Generall is

[Sept.

sent for up, to come to advise with the King about business at this juncture, and to keep all quiet; which is great honour to him, but I am sure is but a piece of dissimulation. So home, and did give orders for my house to be made clean, and then down to Woolwich, and there find all well. Dined, and Mrs. Markham come to see my wife. This day our Merchants first met at Gresham College, which by proclamation is to be their Exchange. Strange to hear what is bid for houses all up and down here; a friend of Sir W. Rider's having 150l. for what he used to let for 40l. per ann. Much dispute where the Custom-house shall be; thereby the growth of the City again to be foreseen. My Lord Treasurer, they say, and others, would have it at the other end of the town. I home late, to Sir W. Pen's, who did give me a bed; but without curtains or hangings, all being down. So here I went the first time into a naked bed, only my drawers on; and did sleep pretty well, but still both sleeping and waking, had a fear of fire in my heart, that I took little rest. People do all the world over cry out of the simplicity of my Lord Mayor in generall; and more particularly in this business of the fire, laying it all upon him. A proclamation is come out for markets to be kept at Leadenhall and Mile-end-greene, and several other places about the town; and Tower-hill, and all Churches to be set open to receive poor people."

(To be continued.)

46. A Letter to the Rev. Dr. Milner, occasioned by some Passages contained in his Book, entitled "The End of Religious Controversy." By the late Rev. S. Parr, LL.D. 8vo. pp. 60. Mawman.

FROM this animated Letter (written originally in 1818, for the express which its length alone prevented,) we purpose of insertion in our Magazine, feel it an imperative duty to make some copious extracts; which we cousider as an act of justice, not only to our late worthy Friend Dr. Parr, but to Bp. Halifax, whose Warburtonian Lectures we heard from the pulpit, and afterwards ushered into the world from our press; and also to Dr. Milner, whom we have known and much respected as an Antiquary and a Scholar for nearly half a century.

We shall begin with an extract from the Preface of the Rev. John Lynes, the grandson by marriage, and one of the executors, of Dr. Parr :

"The following Letter to the Right Reverend Dr. Joseph Milner was found among the papers of the late Reverend Dr. Samuel Parr after his decease. In present