Before 1100. St Benet Gracechurch [Map] was known as Grass Church given the nearby haymarket. St Benet is a shortened form of St Benedict of Nursia who founded Western monasticism. It was destroyed in the Great Fire of London and rebuilt by Christopher Wren.

King's Great Wardrobe. In 1381 the Wardrobe moved from the Tower of London to this location. The Wardrobe was a function of the royal household, charged with overseeing the King's robes, armour and garments. It also served as a treasure store. It was destroyed in the Great Fire of London.

In 1666 St Nicholas Acons Church was destroyed in the Great Fire of London; it was not rebuilt.

In Sep 1666 St Martin Vintry [Map] was one of the eight-six parish churches destroyed in the Great Fire of London.

Evelyn's Diary. 02 Sep 1666. This fatal night, about ten, began the deplorable fire, near Fish Street Hill [Map], in London.

Pepy's Diary. 02 Sep 1666. 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 is burned upon Fish-streets Hill [Map]. I invited him to lie at my house, and did receive his goods, but was deceived in his lying there, the newes coming every moment of the growth of the fire; so as we were forced to begin to pack up our owne goods; and prepare for their removal; and did by moonshine (it being brave dry, and moon: shine, 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 tallys into a box by themselves. So great was our fear, as Sir W. Batten (age 65) 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.

Pepy's Diary. 02 Sep 1666. 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 ruins.

Pepy's Diary. 02 Sep 1666. Having seen as much as I could now, I away to White Hall by appointment, and there walked to St. James's Parks, 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 face in the wind, you were almost burned with a shower of firedrops. 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 Bankside, 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.

Pepy's Diary. 02 Sep 1666. They now removing out of Canning-streets (which received goods in the morning) into Lumbard-streets [Map], 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 streets and carried them below and above bridge to 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 (age 36) and Duke of York (age 32) in their barge, and with them to Queenhith and there called Sir Richard Browne (age 61) to them. Their order was only to pull down houses apace, and so below bridge 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 Virginalls¹ in it.

Note 1. The virginal differed from the spinet in being square instead of triangular in form. The word pair was used in the obsolete sense of a set, as we read also of a pair of organs. The instrument is supposed to have obtained its name from young women, playing upon it.

Pepy's Diary. 02 Sep 1666. By this time it was about twelve o'clock; and so home, and there find my guests, which was Mr. Wood and his wife Barbary Sheldon, and also Mr. Moons: 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 closett 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. Batelier come to enquire after Mr. Woolfe and Stanes (who, it seems, are related to them), whose houses in Fish-street [Map] 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.

Pepy's Diary. 02 Sep 1666. So he left me, and I him, and walked home, seeing people all almost distracted, and no manner of means used to quench the fire. The houses, too, so very thick thereabouts, and full of matter for burning, as pitch and tarr, in Thames-street; and Ware, Hertfordshire [Map] houses of oyle, and wines, and brandy, and other things. Here I saw Mr. Isaake Houblon, the handsome man, prettily dressed and dirty, at his door at Dowgate, receiving some of his brothers' (age 37) 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.

Pepy's Diary. 02 Sep 1666. Here meeting, with Captain Cocke (age 49), I in his coach, which he lent me, and Creed with me to Paul's, and there walked along Watlingstreet, as well as I could, every creature coming away loaden with goods to save, and here and there sicke people carried away in beds. Extraordinary good goods carried in carts and on backs. At last met my Lord Mayor (age 46) 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 himself, he must go and refresh himself, having been up all night.

Pepy's Diary. 02 Sep 1666. So I was called for, and did tell the King (age 36) and Duke of Yorke (age 32) 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 (age 36) commanded me to go to my Lord Mayor (age 46)¹ from him, and command him to spare no houses, but to pull down before the fire every way. The Duke of York (age 32) bid me tell him that if he would have any more soldiers he shall; and so did my Lord Arlington (age 48) afterwards, as a great secret².

Note 1. Sir Thomas Bludworth (age 46). See June 30th, 1666.

Note 2. Sir William Coventry wrote to Lord Arlington on the evening of this day, "The Duke of York (age 32) fears the want of workmen and tools to-morrow morning, and wishes the deputy lieutenants and justices of peace to summon the workmen with tools to be there by break of day. In some churches and chapels are great hooks for pulling down houses, which should be brought ready upon the place to-night against the morning" (Calendar of State Papers, 1666-66, p. 95).

Pepy's Diary. 02 Sep 1666. 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 [Map], 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 old school-fellow Elborough is parson, taken fire in the very top, an 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); to White Hall, and there up to the Kings closett in the Chappell, where people come about me, and did give them an account dismayed them all, and word was carried in to the King (age 36).

Pepy's Diary. 02 Sep 1666. 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 [Map], already burned that way, and the fire running further, that in a very little time it got as far as the Steeleyard [Map], while I was there. Everybody endeavouring to remove their goods, and flinging into the river or bringing them into lighters that layoff; 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 were, some of them burned, their wings, and fell down.

Pepy's Diary. 02 Sep 1666. By 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 [Map], by London Bridge [Map]. So I made myself ready presently, and walked to the Tower [Map], and there got up upon one of the high places, Sir J. Robinson's (age 51) 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 (age 51), who tells me that it begun this morning in the King's baker's' house in Pudding-lane, and that it hath burned St. Magnus's Church [Map] and most part of Fish-street [Map] already.

Pepy's Diary. 02 Sep 1666. Lord's Day. Some of our mayds 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 nightgowne, and went to her window, and thought it to be on the backside of Marke-lane [Map] 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.

From 02 Sep 1666 to 06 Sep 1666 the Great Fire of London destroyed around 13000 properties in the medieval City of London as well as 87 parish churches and St Paul's Cathedral [Map]. The fire is estimated to have left 80% of the city's residents homeless.

Evelyn's Diary. 03 Sep 1666. I had public prayers at home. The fire continuing, after dinner, I took coach with my wife (age 31) and son, and went to the Bankside in Southwark, where we beheld that dismal spectacle, the whole city in dreadful flames near the waterside; all the houses from the Bridge [Map], all Thames street, and upward toward Cheapside [Map], down to the Three Cranes, were now consumed; and so returned, exceedingly astonished what would become of the rest.

Pepy's Diary. 04 Sep 1666. Thence homeward, having passed through Cheapside and Newgate Market, all burned, and seen Anthony Joyce's House in fire. And took up (which I keep by me) a piece of glasse of Mercers' Chappell in the streete, 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 [Map]; with, the hair all burned off the body, and yet alive.

Evelyn's Diary. 04 Sep 1666. The burning still rages, and it is now gotten as far as the Inner Temple. All Fleet Street [Map], the Old Bailey, Ludgate hill, Warwick lane, Newgate, Paul's chain, Watling street, now flaming, and most of it reduced to ashes; the stones of Paul's [Map] flew like grenados, the melting lead running down the streets in a stream, and the very pavements glowing with fiery redness, so as no horse, nor man, was able to tread on them, and the demolition had stopped all the passages, so that no help could be applied. The eastern wind still more impetuously driving the flames forward. Nothing but the Almighty power of God was able to stop them; for vain was the help of man.

Pepy's Diary. 04 Sep 1666. 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-streete [Map], Gracious-streete [Map]; and Lumbard-streete [Map] all in dust. The Exchange [Map] a sad sight, nothing standing there, of all the statues or pillars, but Sir Thomas Gresham's picture in the corner.

Pepy's Diary. 04 Sep 1666. 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 fyre, 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 not burned. But going to the fire, I find by the blowing up of houses, and the great helpe given by the workmen out of the King's yards, sent up by Sir W. Pen (age 45), there is a good stop given to it, as well as at Marke-lane [Map] end as ours; it having only burned the dyall of Barking Church [Map], 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 afeard 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 (age 45), and there eat a piece of cold meat, having eaten nothing since Sunday, but the remains of Sunday's dinner.

Pepy's Diary. 04 Sep 1666. This afternoon, sitting melancholy with Sir W. Pen (age 45) 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 Woolwich, Kent [Map] and Deptford, Kent [Map] yards (none whereof yet appeared), and to write to Sir W. Coventry (age 38) to have the Duke of Yorke's (age 32) permission to pull down houses, rather than lose this office, which would, much hinder, the King's business. So Sir W. Pen (age 45) he went down this night, in order to the sending them up to-morrow morning; and I wrote to Sir W. Coventry (age 38) about the business, but received no answer. This night Mrs. Turner (age 43) (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 I 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, and saw how horridly 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 looks just as if it was at us; and the whole heaven on fire. I after supper walked in the darke down to Tower-streete, and there saw it all on fire, at the Trinity House, Deptford [Map] on that side, and the Dolphin Taverne on this side, which was very near us; and the fire with extraordinary vehemence.

Pepy's Diary. 04 Sep 1666. Walked into Moorefields [Map] (our feet ready to burn, walking through the towne among the hot coles), and find that full of people, and poor wretches carrying their good there, and every body keeping his goods together by themselves (and a great blessing it is to them that it is fair weathe for them to keep abroad night and day); drank there, and paid two-pence for a plain penny loaf.

Pepy's Diary. 04 Sep 1666. 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 alarme 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 or more, and I had forgot, almost the day of the week.

Pepy's Diary. 04 Sep 1666. 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 few, that it was the afternoon before we could get them all away. Sir W. Pen (age 45) and I to Tower-streete [Map], and there met the fire burning three or four doors beyond Mr. Hovell's, whose goods, poor man, his trayes, and dishes, 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 streete, on both sides, with infinite fury. Sir W. Batten (age 65) 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.

Pepy's Diary. 04 Sep 1666. And in the evening Sir W. Pen (age 45) 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 Yorke (age 32) was at the office this day, at Sir W. Pen's (age 45); but I happened not to be within.

Evelyn's Diary. 05 Sep 1666. The coal and wood wharfs, and magazines of oil, rosin, etc., did infinite mischief, so as the invective which a little before I had dedicated to his Majesty (age 36) and published, giving warning what probably might be the issue of suffering those shops to be in the city was looked upon as a prophecy.

Evelyn's Diary. 05 Sep 1666. The poor inhabitants were dispersed about St. George's Fields, and Moorfields [Map], as far as Highgate, and several miles in circle, some under tents, some under miserable huts and hovels, many without a rag, or any necessary utensils, bed or board, who from delicateness, riches, and easy accommodations in stately and well-furnished houses, were now reduced to extreme misery and poverty.

Evelyn's Diary. 05 Sep 1666. In this calamitous condition, I returned with a sad heart to my house, blessing and adoring the distinguishing mercy of God to me and mine, who, in the midst of all this ruin, was like Lot, in my little Zoar, safe and sound.

Evelyn's Diary. 05 Sep 1666. It crossed toward Whitehall [Map]; but oh! the confusion there was then at that Court! It pleased his Majesty (age 36) to command me, among the rest, to look after the quenching of Fetter-lane end, to preserve (if possible) that part of Holborn, while the rest of the gentlemen took their several posts, some at one part, and some at another (for now they began to bestir themselves, and not till now, who hitherto had stood as men intoxicated, with their hands across), and began to consider that nothing was likely to put a stop but the blowing up of so many houses as might make a wider gap than any had yet been made by the ordinary method of pulling them down with engines. This some stout seamen proposed early enough to have saved near the whole city, but this some tenacious and avaricious men, aldermen, etc., would not permit, because their houses must have been of the first. It was, therefore, now commended to be practiced; and my concern being particularly for the Hospital of St. Bartholomew, near Smithfield, where I had many wounded and sick men, made me the more diligent to promote it; nor was my care for the Savoy less. It now pleased God, by abating the wind, and by the industry of the people, when almost all was lost infusing a new spirit into them, that the fury of it began sensibly to abate about noon, so as it came no farther than the Temple westward, nor than the entrance of Smithfield, north: but continued all this day and night so impetuous toward Cripplegate [Map] and the Tower [Map], as made us all despair. It also broke out again in the Temple [Map]; but the courage of the multitude persisting, and many houses being blown up, such gaps and desolations were soon made, as, with the former three days' consumption, the back fire did not so vehemently urge upon the rest as formerly. There was yet no standing near the burning and glowing ruins by near a furlong's space.

Pepy's Diary. 06 Sep 1666. At home, did go with Sir W. Batten (age 65), and our neighbour, Knightly (who, with one more, was the only man 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 (age 52), 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.

Pepy's Diary. 06 Sep 1666. Thence down to Deptford, Kent [Map], and there with great satisfaction landed all my goods at Sir G. Carteret's (age 56) safe, and nothing missed I could see, or hurt. This being done to my great content, I home, and to Sir W. Batten's (age 65), and there with Sir R. Ford (age 52), 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 was to see Cloathworkers' Hall on fire these three days and nights in one body of flame, it being the cellar full of oyle.

Evelyn's Diary. 07 Sep 1666. I went this morning on foot from Whitehall [Map] as far as London Bridge [Map], through the late Fleet Street [Map], Ludgate hill by St. Paul's [Map], Cheapside [Map], Exchange, Bishops-gate [Map], Aldersgate Ward, and out to Moorfields [Map], thence through Cornhill [Map], etc., with extraordinary difficulty, clambering over heaps of yet smoking rubbish, and frequently mistaking where I was; the ground under my feet so hot, that it even burnt the soles of my shoes. In the meantime, his Majesty (age 36) got to the Tower [Map] by water, to demolish the houses about the graff, which, being built entirely about it, had they taken fire and attacked the White Tower [Map], where the magazine of powder lay, would undoubtedly not only have beaten down and destroyed all the bridge, but sunk and torn the vessels in the river, and rendered the demolition beyond all expression for several miles about the country.

Evelyn's Diary. 07 Sep 1666. At my return, I was infinitely concerned to find that goodly Church, St. Paul's [Map] - now a sad ruin, and that beautiful portico (for structure comparable to any in Europe, as not long before repaired by the late King) now rent in pieces, flakes of large stones split asunder, and nothing remaining entire but the inscription in the architrave showing by whom it was built, which had not one letter of it defaced! It was astonishing to see what immense stones the heat had in a manner calcined, so that all the ornaments, columns, friezes, capitals, and projectures of massy Portland stone, flew off, even to the very roof, where a sheet of lead covering a great space (no less than six acres by measure) was totally melted. The ruins of the vaulted roof falling, broke into St. Faith's [Map], which being filled with the magazines of books belonging to the Stationers, and carried thither for safety, they were all consumed, burning for a week following. It is also observable that the lead over the altar at the east end was untouched, and among the divers. Monuments the body of one bishop remained entire. Thus lay in ashes that most venerable church, one of the most ancient pieces of early piety in the Christian world, besides near one hundred more. The lead, ironwork, bells, plate, etc., melted, the exquisitely wrought Mercers' Chapel, the sumptuous Exchange [Map], the august fabric of Christ Church [Map], all the rest of the Companies' Halls, splendid buildings, arches, entries, all in dust; the fountains dried up and ruined, while the very waters remained boiling; the voragos of subterranean cellars, wells, and dungeons, formerly warehouses, still burning in stench and dark clouds of smoke; so that in five or six miles traversing about I did not see one load of timber unconsumed, nor many stones but what were calcined white as snow.

Evelyn's Diary. 07 Sep 1666. The people, who now walked about the ruins, appeared like men in some dismal desert, or rather, in some great city laid waste by a cruel enemy; to which was added the stench that came from some poor creatures' bodies, beds, and other combustible goods. Sir Thomas Gresham's statue, though fallen from its niche in the Royal Exchange [Map], remained entire, when all those of the Kings since the Conquest were broken to pieces. Also the standard in Cornhill [Map], and Queen Elizabeth's effigies, with some arms on Ludgate, continued with but little detriment, while the vast iron chains of the city streets, hinges, bars, and gates of prisons, were many of them melted and reduced to cinders by the vehement heat. Nor was I yet able to pass through any of the narrow streets, but kept the widest; the ground and air, smoke and fiery vapor, continued so intense, that my hair was almost singed, and my feet insufferably surbated. The by-lanes and narrow streets were quite filled up with rubbish; nor could one have possibly known where he was, but by the ruins of some Church, or Hall, that had some remarkable tower, or pinnacle remaining.

Pepy's Diary. 07 Sep 1666. Up by five o'clock; and, blessed be God! find all well, and by water to Paul's Wharfe. Walked thence, and saw, all the towne burned, and a miserable sight of Paul's church [Map]; with all the roofs fallen, and the body of the quire fallen into St. Fayth's [Map]; Paul's school also, Ludgate, and Fleet-street [Map], my father's house, and the church, and a good part of the Temple [Map] the like.

Pepy's Diary. 07 Sep 1666. 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 fire's coming to them. There borrowed a shirt of him, and washed. To Sir W. Coventry (age 38), at St. James's, who lay without curtains, having removed all his goods; as the King (age 36) at White Hall, and every body had done, and was doing. He hopes we shall have no publique distractions upon this fire, which is what every body fears, because of the talke 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 armes 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 losse, 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 Bullen [Map]; and our fleete come to St. Ellen's. We have got nothing, but have lost one ship, but he knows not what.

Evelyn's Diary. 07 Sep 1666. In the midst of all this calamity and confusion, there was, I know not how, an alarm begun that the French and Dutch, with whom we were now in hostility, were not only landed, but even entering the city. There was, in truth, some days before, great suspicion of those two nations joining; and now that they had been the occasion of firing the town. This report did so terrify, that on a sudden there was such an uproar and tumult that they ran from their goods, and, taking what weapons they could come at, they could not be stopped from falling on some of those nations whom they casually met, without sense or reason. The clamor and peril grew so excessive, that it made the whole Court amazed, and they did with infinite pains and great difficulty, reduce and appease the people, sending troops of soldiers and guards, to cause them to retire into the fields again, where they were watched all this night. I left them pretty quiet, and came home sufficiently weary and broken. Their spirits thus a little calmed, and the affright abated, they now began to repair into the suburbs about the city, where such as had friends, or opportunity, got shelter for the present to which his Majesty's (age 36) proclamation also invited them.

Evelyn's Diary. 07 Sep 1666. I then went towards Islington [Map] and Highgate, where one might have seen 200,000 people of all ranks and degrees dispersed, and lying along by their heaps of what they could save from the fire, deploring their loss; and, though ready to perish for hunger and destitution, yet not asking one penny for relief, which to me appeared a stranger sight than any I had yet beheld. His Majesty (age 36) and Council indeed took all imaginable care for their relief, by proclamation for the country to come in, and refresh them with provisions.

Pepy's Diary. 08 Sep 1666. Thence with Sir W. Batten (age 65) to the Cock-pit [Map], whither the Duke of Albemarle (age 57) is come. It seems the King (age 36) holds him so necessary at this time, that he hath sent for him, and will keep him here. Indeed, his interest in the City, being acquainted, and his care in keeping things quiet, is reckoned that wherein he will be very serviceable. We to him; he is courted in appearance by every body. He very kind to us; I perceive he lays by all business of the fleete at present, and minds the City, and is now hastening to Gresham College, to discourse with the Aldermen. Sir W. Batten (age 65) and I home (where met by my brother John (age 25), come to town to see how things are with us), and then presently he with me to Gresham College; where infinity of people, partly through novelty to see the new place, and partly to find out and hear what is become one man of another. I met with many people undone, and more that have extraordinary great losses. People speaking their thoughts variously about the beginning of the fire, and the rebuilding; of the City. Then to Sir W. Batten's (age 65), and took my brothet with me, and there dined with a great company of neighbours; and much good discourse; among others, of the low spirits of some rich men in the City, in sparing any encouragement to the poor people that wrought for the saving their houses. Among others, Alderman Starling, a very rich man, without; children, the fire at next door to him in our lane, after our men had saved his house, did give 2s. 6d. among thirty of them, and did quarrel with some that would remove the rubbish out of the way of the fire, saying that they come to steal. Sir W. Coventry (age 38) told me of another this morning, in Holborne, which he shewed the King (age 36) that when it was offered to stop the fire near his house for such a reward that came but to 2s. 6d. a man among the neighbours he would, give but 18d.

Calendars. 14 Sep 1666. 111. Whitby. Thomas Waade to Williamson. The destruction of London by fire is reported to be a hellish contrivance of the French, Hollanders, and fanatic party. At the first notice of it there, the trained bands were in arms, those for the North Rriding endezvousing at Malton, Sir Jordan Crosland's regiment at Easingwold, and Sir Thomas Strickland's foot company was sent to guard Whitby. The coun- try being alarmed with the men-of-war, Alderman Shipton of Lythe raised 200 men ina moment, with such arms as they could get who were very willing to engage the enemy if they durst land, but seeing such a flocking of people, they weighed anchor, and are cruising off, expecting laden colliers from Newcastle or Sunderland.

Evelyn's Diary. 10 Oct 1666. This day was ordered a general Fast through the Nation, to humble us on the late dreadful conflagration, added to the plague and war, the most dismal judgments that could be inflicted; but which indeed we highly deserved for our prodigious ingratitude, burning lusts, dissolute court, profane and abominable lives, under such dispensations of God's continued favor in restoring Church, Prince, and People from our late intestine calamities, of which we were altogether unmindful, even to astonishment. This made me resolve to go to our parish assembly, where our Doctor preached on Luke xix. 41: piously applying it to the occasion. After which, was a collection for the distressed losers in the late fire.

Before 27 Oct 1666 John Kelyng (age 59) prosecuted Frenchman John Hubert who confessed to setting the fire in the King's Bakehouse in Pudding Lane. Hubert was duly found guilty by the jury and executed on 27 Oct 1666 by order of Kelynge, even though Kelynge told the King that he did not believe a word of the confession.

Evelyn's Diary. 28 Nov 1666. Went to see Clarendon House, now almost finished, a goodly pile to see, but had many defects as to the architecture, yet placed most gracefully. After this, I waited on the Lord Chancellor (age 57), who was now at Berkshire House, since the burning of London.

Pepy's Diary. 14 Dec 1666. So I to Westminster Hall [Map], and there met my good friend Mr. Evelyn (age 46), and walked with him a good while, lamenting our condition for want of good council, and the King's minding of his business and servants. I out to the Bell Tavern, and thither comes Doll to me .... [Note. Other versions include 'and yo did tocar la cosa [ I did touch the thing ] of her as I pleased;'], and after an hour's stay, away and staid in Westminster Hall [Map] till the rising of the house, having told Mr. Evelyn (age 46), and he several others, of my Gazette which I had about me that mentioned in April last a plot for which several were condemned of treason at the Old Bayly for many things, and among others for a design of burning the city on the 3rd of September.

St Leonard Eastcheap Church [Map] was destroyed in the Great Fire of London. It wasn't rebuilt being combined with St Benet Gracechurch [Map].

Pie Corner is the corner of Cock Lane and Giltspur Street that is traditionally the furthest extent of the Great Fire of London which is commemorated by the Golden Boy of Pye Corner.