〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 OR, THE Dreadful Burning OF LONDON: Described in a POEM. BY J. G. M. A. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Dionys. Halicarn. d: Rom. Incend. lib. 5. p. 313. Licenced May 2. 1667. Roger L'Estrange. LONDON, Printed for Henry Herringman, at the Anchor in the Lower Walk of the New-Exchange. 1667. To the Right Worshipful Sir William Turner, Knight, and Alderman of the City of LONDON. SIR, TO make your Name preliminary to so mean a Pamphlet, created in me as great a doubt, as whether so inconsiderate a Pen should make an Essay upon so great a Subject: Yet as the attempt upon the Subject, so the boldness in its Dedication seems not without some reason; though I might rather have appeared like pious Æneas, in carrying his Father from the Flames of Troy, than endeavour to imitate lofty Maro in describing them. Yet might those Feet perhaps which hastened from the Flames, at the same time run into Verses. I know not why the instigation of some should be so very earnest in importuning me hereto, knowing me to have trod more upon Vesuvius than Parnassus, unless they imagined, I might thereupon write sensibly, though not elegantly, on such a Subject of Fire. But the Pen to describe this unparalleled Fire, should be like its Flames, to soar high, and be perspicuous too; mounting above its own smoke, and not to wrap itself up in sheets of obscurity: and should be like that of the Eagle, which fans the Clouds, and approaches the Sun. Your great Concern (Sir) as to the subject of this ●●●m, and ●ur Rank, as one of the chiefs if that Court, which represents out Metropolis, being sheriff thereof not long before its deplorable Ruin, and now deligated as one of those, to order and direct in its re-edifying, might partly occasion this address to yourself, which might not only affect you with the remembrance of its former State, but excite you in the Contrivance of its future Glory. Now though this Description of so severe a Providence, may be but as an imperfect Draught to you, having (I suppose) seen the thing itself acted; (the aifference being as great, as between painted and real Fire) yet mayit serve as a Remembrance to those, who though they felt something of its Effects, yet never saw any thing of its Tenrours. Who may hereby understand, how dreadful this Fire was which, though at first stole upon the City in the deepest silence of the Night, yet did soon discover itself by its own Splendour; whose Flames by their great Light, did soon proclaim that Ruin they made by their destructive Heat, which seemed, as 'twere cheerful in devouring; but as soon as they ceased to leap and dance at the destruction of others, they perished themselves. Whence of old the † 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Herod. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 lib. 3. p. 10. Egyptians were persuaded that Fire was an animated Creature, made only to destroy, and after satiated to die with the thing devoured. But the * 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Id. Persians proceed farther, and adore it as a God. Such indeed is the dread of this devouring Element, that the Eternal Deity sometimes condescends to the resemblance of a consuming Fire, and his teerrours to everlasting Burn: and how may we look upon this, as a display of his Justice; for whether or no this Fire began by a malicious hand, yet must we look upon it as blown up by our Sins. Such kind of malicious Practices may be traced back as far as Heathen Rome, according to that of the Satirist, — Conter Conductum Latronem, Incendia Sulphure cepta, Atquo dolo primos cum janua colligit ignes. Juv. lib. 5. Sat. 13. Or as another observes: — Candelam apponere valvis Non dubitet.— This Fire seemed like that in the tails of Sampsons' Foxes, which burned that which should have become others bread: this made many wealthy Citizens become poor Almes-men; whose mouths are as open now to ask, at their hands before were to bestow Charity: whose Dwellings being burned, and their Trades wasted, are reduced as the Psalmist speaks, to eat ashes like bread. But I hope the singular Care of our Sovereign, and the earnest Endeavours of our Magistrates, for the Re-building this famous City, and for the Restoring of our waste Places, may at the same time raise London out of its Ashes, and poor Citizens out of the Dust. Having made a Poetical Attempt in describing the dismal Ruin of so Renowned a City, I wish now I could so much farther play the Port, as to be like that Thracian, whose strains could make confused Stones rally into order: Or as Amphion, who allured them into the Walls of Thebes: however might I vatem agere, may I rather sing its approaching Glory, than late Ruin. Especially if the affair of its Re-building continue in part under Your most Prudent Care, and I under Your former Favour; the acknowledgement of which, while it now becomes like your Name, public, yet I hope if I have thereby offended, that the same generous disposition that can so freely bestow a Favour, will as freely pardon a Fault: and what I have do●e in this Address, that it may be attributed rather to my Endeavour of becoming grateful, than offensive: for hence it is, that I desired to publish how much I am, Honoured Sir, Your most Obliged and Humble Servant, J. G. — 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 OR The dreadful Burning of London. While urgent * — Sopor fessos complectitur artus. Virg. Lib. 2. Sleep our heavy Eyes did clole, And wrapped our minds up in a soft Repose; Some glowing Coal, silent, and dark as night, Shakes its black Embers off, so shows its light. Which through some narrow room, did gently creep With a still foot, it abroad durst peep. Which will no longer now confined be, But steals forth with a kind of subtlety. Though on its way, Night had her Poppy shed; Yet is revealed by its own Light it spread: And with a train at last in public goes, And as it marches forward stronger grows. Surprising all before it, as it burns; And to itself all opposition turns. Nor was its Rise more sudden by a blast, Than th' Execution which it made in haste. As an enraged Invader strait doth spread His bloody Banners, which still Menace dread, Wasting where he comes, whose anger burns, And into dreadful Flames the Country turns: Which dismal ruin that he leaves behind, Scarce satisfies the fury of his mind. Thus doth this raging Fire lift up its head, And its 〈◊〉 Flames abroad doth spread▪ Which as deep midnight no●● disturbs ou●● Peace, And by our Ruin do themselves increase. And as it marcheth, is it tracked alone By the dire footsteps of destruction. Weak at the first, it humbly crept along, Till higher it aspired, as it grew strong: And to exalted Pyramids doth rise, Before the clogs of sleep fall from our eyes. How does the crackling noise first wound our ear, that the dreadful sight doth urge our fear, No sooner some out of their Beds were gone, But in bright Sheets of Flames their Houses shone: And newly but awake, as now they gaze Upon whole Streets in such a dismal Blaze: They seem as still asleep, and what they see, As some dire dream without reality. Such dread makes them their own eyes scarce believe, Or to their very Senses credit give. So much amazed they stand, o'ercome with fear, As but unmoving Statues they appear. Thus once Lot's Wife did to a Pillar turn, As soon as she beheld her Sodom burn. And here, although whole Streets prove but a Prey To hungry Flames, through which they eat their way: How few among such multitudes engage, To check their progress, or to quench their rage? So wide they spread, and did so high aspire, As if sank down th' whole Element of Fire: And did to us so great a Maze present, As if were wrapped in Flames the Firmament. * Tempus erat quo prima quies, Mortalibus aegris Incipit. Virg. Æn. 2. Some who this Fire would with resistance meet, By others are * Pars morans, pars festinans, cuncta impediebant. Tacit. de Rom. Incend obstructed in the Street: Who only striving to secure their Goods, Justle down those who bring opposing Floods. Who laden thus with water, and thrown down Amidst the Flames, at once both burn and drown. Others their Water-Engins full do bring, Which on the Flames opposng showers fling: Whose streams with such a force ascend so high, As if they could therewith the Clouds supply. The Pipe are cut, and all the † Restringere fontibus ignes. Virg. Conduits flow, And on the Fire repeated Floods men throw. Yet Pyramids of Flames invade the Skies, Whose thirst the watery Clouds could scarce suffice: But lick their moistures up, so make them dry, That without water, * 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Jud. 12. Clouds they seem thereby: And none but clouds of smoke about us hover; Whose sable wings do th' whole Horizon cover. As the destructive Fire doth forward creep, Its shining train whole Streets away doth sweep. Which wand'ring Flames, lose and destroy their way, And having ruined all, themselves decay. Such ranks of Flames, the chief fire forward leads, Which Hydra-like lifts up a hundred heads. They dance at the least Whistle of the Wind, Leaving dire foot steps of their rage behind. At last so boundless in their Progress, they As uncontrolled, no limits scarce obey. Which thirsty fire the flowing waters drank, And made the very Thames shrink from its bank: And was so hungry too, whole Streets became As fuel but to feed this greedy * Ignis edax summo ad vestigia vento Volvitur.— Virg. : Flame. But as it feeds, it still the more doth crave, Unsatisfied, like the devouring Grave. Whole Parishes, its rage did but excite, And not appease its wanton appetite. Elijah's Victim on the Altar fumed, And by his fire of zeal was soon consumed: Whose rapid Flames, the waters in the trench, Can not by all their swelling moistures quench; Which could no more their raging thirst allay, Than th' Holocaust their hunger take away. Our Altar's fume, but not with their own fire; And for a Sacrifice now burns the Quite. Luxuriant Flames made beauteous Piles to be The objects of their wanton cruelty. But as those Flames in several ranks divide; And as they march, stretch o'er from side to side. 'Twas as the Psalmist once sang to his Lyre, The voice of God, divider the flames of fire. The Blaze of two dire Comets did forerun This stream of Flames, which should outblaze the Sun: Which to the middle Region did aspire, As if it would convert it to one fire; Or only to a gen'ral Comet turn, Which might be seen by the whole world to burn. Then angry Heaven more direful thunders sent, Which sturdy Oaks, and lofty Steeples rend. So Rome before its dismal Fire, did see † Vulgantur prodigia, imminentiu● malorum nuntia, vis fulgurum, non alias crebrior, & sidus comets. Tacit. 15. Annal. Signs, which presaged an angry Deity. Phoebus' looked down, and blushed at such a sight To be out-shone by an inferior Light: Who seemed not only red, when first he risen; But so remained, till he the day did close. And at so great a Conflagration stood, As at his Solstice, and seemed turned to blood: While up and down th' affrighted people run, As if indeed Doomsday were now begun. The Sun now fears a Peregaeum, while Such clouds of smoke his purer light defile: Which though all day, did but eclipse his light; Yet flames supplied his absence in the night. And doth fair Cynthia shrink into her Wain, Lest such black clouds, her beauty too should slain: Draws in her horns, as if her force were spent, While Fire o'ercomes her liquid Element. Doubting though in the Sea she dipped her horn, So great a fire might all her moisturescorn. Those flames so great a light did spread, that they Seemed to recall the new departed day: The lesser Stars within their sockets shrink, As tender eyes before great light that wink. Which eyes of Heaven, thus twinkle all the night, While such vast flames cast a perstringent light. Before the Sun, an Eastern Wind doth rise, Which made the flames shoot sparks up to the Skies: Which shone so bright, as if indeed they strove To add new lights unto the stars above. Cold gusts of wind, these ardours more intent; Which make the flames their Ruins forward send. The brightest of them rush towered Lombard Street, And lick up all opposing streams they meet: Where they the Jewels, and rich Stones outshine; And do the Gold but once again refine. This Fire which we not only forward trace, Which Janus like presents a double face; And doth not only burn before the wind, But backward shoots its flames as far behind. As when a Serpent wreaths his head about, And as he twines, doth shoot his forked sting out: Whose wriggling tail though severed, yet doth threat Still Parthian like, to wound in his retreat. Thus though this fiery Serpent cut in twain, Yet scarce wounds with his head, more than his train. While it doth toward the Bridge now backward turn, To tantalise the Waves, and o'er them burn. Doth Vulcan against Neptune seem to rage, Who with his Waves could not his ardours suage: And threatens too those Ships on th' other side, Which Nereus scarce could rescue with his tide. Thus when renowned * Aemelianus classem sub ipso ore urbis incendit. Flor. lib. 2. c. 15. — Per mania clarior ignis. Virg. * Auditur, propriusque aestus incendia volvunt. Carthage once was fired, By the same flames the Navy too expired. The Bridge thus burning might some think the while, 'Twas to those traitorous heads a Funeral-pile: Whose ashes yet like Traitors are denied An Urn, while swallowed by the angry Tide. Neptune looks up on this insulting Fire, Which higher than his Surges doth aspire: Who with his swelling I ideses could scarce out-roar, Or drown the † 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Hom. II. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. noise they sent down to the shore. The glittering Fish in mighty shoals now gaze Upon the lightning of so great a Blaze: To see those Flames of such a large extent, * — 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Hom. Out shine themselves, and their own Element. That fervour which they to the River cast, Might cause its very Waves to † 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Id. boil at last: So make the Tides more estuate than before, Though driven with such a force against the shore. So *— 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Xanthus boiled, while the flames did destroy The stately Palaces of ancient Troy. The leading flames towards the Burse Royal haste, Where all the Statues of our Kings were placed: Which the black clouds of smoke did first enfold, the rude flames took off their burnished Gold. Nor could those Royal Statutes be like those, Which from the Capitol repelled the foes: When the bold Sabines did it once assail, But could not o'er the Roman force prevail; When th' ancient Statues in the breach were placed, They saved the Tower, but were themselves defaced. A ruder flame doth on those Statues prey, Which them doth in the common Ruin lay: And while by unexpected flames they burn, Their noble ashes seem to want an Urn. Yet, burn those Statues not like other things, Which represent no less than sacred Kings; But a perfumed flame doth from them rise, Whose smoke sweet Odours sends up to the Skies: For th' Aromatic Cavern underneath, Doth all the while Sabaean Vapours breath. As flames th' Arabian Spices thus consume, They all the circumambient air perfume. Soon may we see from this Sacrifice, Or spicy bed of flames, a Phoenix rise. Why should we from such ashes think it strange, To see spring up, a more august Exchange. Here did the wealthy Merchants use to meet, And Foreign Nations did each other greet: But these unruly flames rush in among Those Foreigners, to speak their fiery tongue: Which spoke not so obscurely, but we might See flaming Sheets, their meaning bring to light; Making those very marble Columns burn, And only into fiery Pillars turn. Yet they the generous Founder of the place, Refuse with awe his Statue to deface: To change his hue, they need not send before Their Harbingers of Smoke, to black him more. They hence to Bow-Church stretch themselves, where they It's lofty Roof do in the ashes lay. And having first destroyed the sacred Choir, Up to the stately Tower they next aspire. The Bells before rung backward, did thereby, Some accidental Fire still signify. But when the Churches and the Bellfries burn, The Bells are dumb, and their black towers mouth. What Fire is this, makes the Bells cease to chime? Destroys the Clocks, so triumphs over time: Vast * Domus munimentis septae, Templa muris cincta, Delubra Deûm, & Porticus amaenitati dicatae, latius procidere. Tacit. 15. Anal. Halls, nor Temples could these Flames repel, Which ruin'd all, where e'er their fury fell. Rich Fabrics, once the Glory of our Isle, Become but now the City's Funeral Pile. Gild Hall, where the grave Senators still sat, When they the City business did debate; Whose Purple Robes did such a splendour shed, As filled those who approached their Court with dread. Yet the rude Fire doth with its Scarlet Train, Rush in among them, and their Robes disdain: Whose flames a greater awe did with them bring, While round about they nought but terror, fling. But when this Fire, once to the * 〈…〉 per Tabernas, quibus id mercimonium inerat, quo flamma alitur. Tacit. de Rom. Incend. Taverns came, They quenched it not, but it made them to flame. And when abroad Torrents of wine gush, Incensed Bacchus doth at Vulcan blush. Cold gusts of wind these ardours more intent, And make the flames their Ruins forward send. As with a strong breath Boreas sometimes blow, When to the Clouds he angry Surges throws: And so makes Neptune, Heaven itself defy, By spitting in the face of th' azur'd Sky. Thus here with such a breath, he seems to drive Unruly flames, which toward the Heavens now strive, Zion, where sacred Learning did increase, While th' Arts and Sciences dwelled there in peace: And where the sacred Muses did inspire The Sons of Learning, with diviner Fire; Yet cannot with their Fountain Helicon, Quench this unhallowed Conflagration: But here the Critics burn with flames so bright, As give th' obscurer places clearer light. When to St. Paul's among the Books it came, Learned Authors, for to shun this dreadful flame, To the magnific Temple soon do fly For Refuge, as their only Sanctuary: Yet could not safety at the Altar find, Though they had been like Saints themselves enshrined. But those Divines, which in St. Faiths were penned, Seemed as to Purgatory they were sent: Where sometimes after, when the smothered Fire Was thought in its own b Ex obruto incendio, subita de cineribus flamma prodibat. Flor. lib. 2. cap. 15. Embers to expire; Receiving air, revived and quickly fumed, So blasted Faith, and all the Books consumed. Paul's Temple reared on Faith, whose lofty Spire Was once demolished by c Dugdal. Hist. ubi exhibetur Pyramis Ecclesiae Paulina, qualis olim erat priusquam e caelo tacta conflagraverat. Celestial Fire. Like that once sacred unto d Templum spei in fore Olitorio fulmive tactum. Liv. lib. 23. Hope in Rome, Burnt by a fire, which did from Heaven come. When to the Temple of Minerva came, The Trojan Horse, it soon began to flame. When Horses thus Paul's Temple once defile, How soon becomes it then a flaming Pile? For which Profaneness, well might heaven be urged, To have it thus by Fire again be purged. Once the Messiah in a Manger lay, Where th' Eastern Sages did him homage pay; Whence some profane ones thought he might be found Still in a Stable, though with Glory crowned. Those wilder Beasts, to Ephesus once brought, With which the Doctor of the Gentiles fought, Did not Diana's Temple so defile, (Though it became so soon a burning Pile) As those beasts slain the Temple of his Name, That now doth perish by as great a Flame. Which though the dismal Flames uncovered thus, Like that once sacred unto d Termino non nisi sub dio sacrificabaetur. Seru. in Virg. Æn. 9 In Capitolio prona pars tecti paret, quae lapidem ipsum Termini (sive Texminum) spectat. Dempst, in Ro. in. lib. 4. c. 6. Templum in quo coliba●ur Terminus, desuper patens foramen habuit: Sic Ædes lovis Pulverii in Attica semper sine tecto erigebatur. Alex. ab Alexand. lib. 2. c. 22. Termimus: Yet when they looked down, toward the awful Choir, And on the Altar spied more Sacred Fire. They feared as 'twere to spread unhallowed heat; O'er th' Holy Altar, but with awe retreat. So durst not touch those beauties, where Saints pray, But stopped, and turned their course an other way. To see which pile could not the Flames repel, A shower of tears strait from the King's eyes fell. So Titus wept, as Salems' Temple burned: To see its beauty thus to ashes turned. Not once like e Pervaserat rumor ipso tempore flagrantis urbis Neronem ivisse domesticam scenam, & cecinisse Trojanum excidium. Tacit. 15. Anal. Nero, who sang to his Lyre, As he beheld Imperial Rome on fire; Who singing, by his breath blew up the flame, And made it more insult, where e'er it came. For as the City burning he surveyed, The flames but friskt and danced to what he played. Nor as when Pyrrhus with a gust of joy, Beheld the Ruin once of flaming Troy: While f — Moestissimus Hector. Visus adesse mihi, largosque effundere fletus. Virg. Hector wept, and old g In coelo palmas cum voce tetendit, jupiter omn●potens praecibus si flecteris ullis, Aspice nos. Idem. Anchises prayed, As thus their burning City they surveyed. While Troynovant thus burned, so prayed our King, That God would secure to the City bring. And may the Pious Tears of such an Eye Well expiate, when dropped from Majesty. Soon as they had a sacred Vial filled, They h 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. quenched, as they upon the flames distilled. Thus seemed he like that Royal Lyric, whiles He wept, till God at last upon him smiles. Whose sacred tears were bottled up and kept By Heaven itself, as moved when the King wept. The injured Greeks to Temples used to fly, And sacred Altars in Calamity. But when this Fire, that from the Temple fumes, Which th' Altar, and the Temple too consumes. Where shall we refuge seek, and pray? while thus, Heaven takes the very House of Prayer from us. Th' unwearyed Flames, hence unto Christ-Church haste, Which ample and religious Pile they waste. Nor could the Buckets of its Sacred Choir, Defend it now from this unhallowed Fire. No sooner doth this sacred Structure fall, But th' agile Fire preys on the Hospital: Which as the Orphan's Coats first burns as blue, Then blusheth at the act it is to do: Which checks itself, as if 'twere loath to be, The Ruin of this Work of Charity: For Charity was not more warm of old, Than in this worse age it waxeth cold. This place yet's ruined by no less a Flame, Than that of Love, which first bestowed the same. The Flames, though merciless to th' Orphans were, To others after, yet more kind appear: Graci moris fuit ad injuriam arcendam confugere ad Templa & arras. Lips. in Tacit. p. 160. Reaching to Newgate, there they soon set free The Prisoners by a Goal-delivery. Themselves at first, in lesser room were penned, Till growing strong, refused Imprisonment, Next, Sepulchers they with more Ruins fill, And yet unwearyed, thence they climb Snow-Hill; Whose unslackt ardours both despised its snow, And colder Fountain at its foot below: So burns Vesuvius, though the Sea its side Doth wash, and humid Clouds its head still hid. Dire Vulcan his own Mansion scarce yet burns, But to one Smithfield the whole City turns: And ruins all but Chimneys, his right place, Soon as he did his proper bounds once pass. Priam's stout Son among the Grecians a— Jaculatus puppibus ignes. cast Such Flames, that did their Ships at Anchor waste: Which seemed but to precede that fatal Fire, In which soon after Ilium did expire. Thus might those Flames prefage the like event, Our English b The burning of the Ships before Schelling. Hector to the Dutch Fleet sent. Which a more fatal Fire seemed to foreshow, That should no less rich London overthrow. Th' Head of three Kingdoms thus to Fate doth bow, Not covered with, but turned to ashes now: Whose shattered Towers seem to th' observing eye, Like those of old Rome, which in Ruins lie. Whose Ports yet standing, though defaced, appear By some old Characters, what once they were. Arches and rumed Temples too are seen, Whose Letters show, what they before have been. Thus those Inscription● on each standing Gate, Spell London's 〈◊〉 Pomp, but later Fate. That stately Ship, 〈…〉 the City's Name, And perished by an unexpected Flame; Yet from her Ashes Phoenixlike did spring. Another Loyal London to the King. Thus from our Rumed City may arise, Another, whose high Towers may urge the Skies. FINIS.