the lieutenant of the Tower, who tells me that it begun this morn ing in the king's baker's house in Pudding-lane, and that it hath burned down St. Magnus 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 får 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 Steeleyard, while I was there. Every body endeavouring to remove their goods, and flinging into the river, or bringing them into lighters that lay off; poor people staying in their houses as long as till the very fire touched them, and then running 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 balconys, 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 long a drought proving combustible, even the very stones of churches, and among other things, the poor steeple* by which pretty Mrs. lives; and whereof my school fellow 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 ell 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 commanded 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 Arlington 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 Canningstreet, 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 St. Laurence Poultney, of which Thomas Elborough was curate.

↑ Sir Thomas Bludworth.

himself, he must go and refresh himself, having been up all night. So he left me, and I him, and walked home; seeing people almost distracted, and no manner of means used to quench the fire. The houses too so very thick there abouts, and full of matter for burning, as pitch and tar, in Thamesstreet; 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 ex traordinary good dinner, and as merry as at this time we could be While at dinner Mrs. Bateller come to inquire 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 Lumbard-street, 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 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 1 could now, I away to White-hall 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 ale-house 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 a 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 Fishstreet-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 goeds 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.

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 Bednall-green. Which I did, riding myself in my nightgown in the cart; and, Lord! to see how the streets and the high ways 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

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

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 came 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 a 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 trays 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 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 opportunity 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 another, 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 h ppened not to be within. This afternoon, 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 morning; 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 sad manner, but were merry. Only now and then walking into the garden, saw how horribly the sky looks, all on a fire in the night, was enough to put us cut 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 running down to Fleet-street, and Paul's is burned, and all Cheapside. I wrote to my father this night, but the post-office being burned, the letter could not go.

"5th. I lay down in this office again upon Mr. 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 Barking 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 2,3501. 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, because 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

Seething-lane.