A Short and Serious NARRATIVE OF LONDON'S Fatal Fire, WITH ITS Diurnal and Nocturnal Progression, From Sunday Morning (being) the Second of SEPTEMBER, Anno Mirabili 1666. Until Wednesday Night following, A POEM. AS ALSO London's Lamentation to her Regardless Passengers.  
With Allowance.  
LONDON: Printed for Peter Dring, at the Sign of the Beaver in the Strand, between Ivy-bridge and Durham-Yard, who formerly lived at the Sun in the Poultry in London. 1667.   


Saturday Night.  
WHen the Black Chamberlain of gloomy Night,  
(Dull Morpheus) to slumbering did invite  
The drowsy Mortals of the World's wide Inn,  
And bound each Soul up in a leaden Chain;  
When Silence did her sable Curtains close,  
To shut each Eye up in a sweet repose,  
And every Bird under her tender wing  
Had gave its harmless head a Covering,  
And that the harnessed Beasts that toil all day,  
(From thraldom freed) all down in quiet lay;  
When all was whist, and still, and calm, and free,  
And CINTHEA bright smiled with serenity,  
Forth the dark Caverns of the dismal Earth,  
A boisterous bellowing Wind roused and sprung forth,  
And to disturb this quiet Silence came,  
And with its shuffling feet spurned up a flame  
From some few glowing Sparks, and made them be  
Apt Actors for a purposed Tragedy.  
The wakened Flames augmented more and more,  
Which churlish BOREAS buffets till they roar,  
And with imperious Breath Commission gave,  
That every newborn Spark should be his slave,  
And lent them power to enact his Will,  
And his tyrannic Precepts to fulfil;  
And 'cause their Execution swift might be,  
He gave them Wings to add Celerity,  
Made every glimmering spark a curling Flame,  
Whose powerful Force no power could quell, or tame.  
And now the doleful, dreadful, hideous Note  
Of FIRE, is screemed out with a deep-strained throat;  
Horror, and fear, and sad distract I Cries,  
Chide Sloth away, and bids the Sluggard rise;  
Most direful Exclamations are let fly  
From every Tongue, Tears stand in every Eye.   

Sunday Morning.  
DOubtful Constructions of far greater Harms,  
Dispeopled Churches, made men take up Arms,  
And in confusion all together go,  
In opposition of an unknown Foe.  
Now from the Temple every one doth fly,  
And run from Prayer (Heaven's Artillery,)  
For to encounter a suspected Foe  
When that (alas) 'twas Heaven had bend his Bow,  
And Brow against us. O'twas GOD alone  
(That we ran from) to whom we should have flown.  
PHOEBUS foresaw our Woes, and them bewailed,  
And sighed so long till he our Springs exhaled.  
Grieved Heaven, sad Earth to see our angry GOD  
threatening poor LONDON with his flaming Rod,  
Expressed a weighty sorrow, whilst that we  
Embraced our Sins, slighted our Misery.  
Flames lash the Rich man from his wealthy Store,  
And bid the ruin'd Young man work for more.  
— That Angry Majesty who in the Year  
‛ (665.) by Death did clear  
So many Thousands by the PESTILENCE,  
And from their HABITATIONS sent them hence,  
In (66.) a Woe as great did make,  
And did the HOUSES from the DWELLERS take.  
The furious Fire rides on with full Career,  
And no Repulse will its Force feel or fear,  
Flings down strong Sructures both of Stone and Wood,  
And proudly scorns to have its Power withstood.  
Th'undainted Courage of the crack'ling Flames  
Slighting the weaker Current of the THAMES,  
And whilst insulting at her Banks it stands,  
In execution of the Winds Commands,  
The Dreadful Shoar, the pleasant Streams doth make  
To each Beholder, like a Flaming Lake.  
Th'amazed Tides do swiftly glide away,  
And the sad News to NEPTVNE'S Court convey;  
Of which, when once the Aged SIRE hears,  
He sends them back replenished with his tears.  
Her Neighbouring Floods (alas) now useless are,  
She only serves on her tame Back to bear  
Such Goods that frighted with the horrid shape  
Of the most Dreadful Fire, did thither scape.   

Sunday Night.  
NOw TITAN weary of this grievous Sight,  
Resigned to CINTHEA the Charge o'th' Night,  
Took wings and fluttered (frighted) to the WEST,  
And charged that heavy Mortals should not rest.  
At every drooping Brow, pale Fear doth stand  
To keep out Slumber, Sleep to countermand:  
In every Ear continual Dangers rattle,  
Their Souls from self-security to startle;  
A pensive Grief doth every heart array,  
And Sighs call back the new departed day,  
Spending the linger hours of that Night  
In restless groans. Viewing the dreadful Light  
Belch forth new Blazes still, which AETNA like,  
In every Soul doth deep amazement strike,  
While some stand shivering in the street to see,  
(But not prevent) approaching Misery:  
Others at distance from the fearful Fire,  
Of every hasty Passenger inquire  
Of its sad fatal Progress: Others lie  
Securely snorting in stupidity,  
While some more careful to preserve their Wares,  
Employ their indefatigable Cares,  
And load the crackling Carriage with their store,  
While others more necessitous and poor,  
Not able for to bribe the churlish Slave  
With such large Praemiums as now he'd have,  
Burden their own weak Backs, and sadly tyre  
Their faint and foundered Limbs, to save the hire  
Of an expensive Carr; which was a Rate  
That did exceed (alas) some men's Estate!  
This makes the thrifty Husband sweat to lug  
His Bed, and Bolster, Coverlet, and Rugg:  
Now all turn Porters, poor, and wealthy men,  
Slow Age, strong Youth, and little Childerens,  
Each one the talon of his Strength employs,  
On every Back a ponderous Burden lies.  
The AGED MAN, whose feeble Limbs to bear  
His weaker Body scarcely able were,  
(Without the help of his assisting Crutch,)  
Necessity did lend him power such,  
With ease to bear that which before he strove  
With greatest pains to lift, and could not move.  
Now many wanting both a Purse and Power  
To their Assistance, let the Flames devour  
That, of which through their industry and care,  
Themselves (not long since) happy Masters were.  
Those that were Rich, and potent in Estate,  
Within one Night this Fire did ruinated;  
And other some by avaricious stealth,  
In this Calamity, have gained them wealth.  
Thus was the first sad Night spun out in woe,  
Carts all night long went rumbling to and fro,  
And every throbbing heart with grief and care,  
In expectation of the Morning were.   

Monday Morning.  
NOw the Bright Traveller that never ceased,  
But in a sweat came climbing up the East,  
Lear'd through the Curtains of the drowsy Morn,  
Fearing another PHOEBUS had been born;  
Or else that JOVE some way displeased had sent  
A new made Light to rule this Continent,  
Blushed red with fear, and at the first did seem  
To curb the Reins of his curvetting Team,  
But finding out what 'twas, he made no stay,  
But shook his head, lashed on, and rid away.  
The spreading Flames now conquer all they meet,  
And walk in Triumph through the frighted streets,  
And finding in their fury such success,  
Outrageous grew, and become merciless,  
CHURCHES & CHAPELS, and brave HALLS pull down  
And throw their towering Turrets to the ground,  
And that which had withstood the hand of AGE,  
Was spoiled and ruined by its rave'nous rage:  
Brave Edifices, and of comely state,  
This cruel Fire doth dilapidate,  
Clambers the lofty Church's stately walls,  
And leaves them not till all to ruin falls.  
And our distress in this the greater was,  
In that just Heaven had made our hands (alas)  
The active Instruments for to tear down  
Our own beloved Mansions to the ground,  
This we pursued with eager forwardness,  
And still our best endeavours lacked success,  
Our care, our toil, our labour never ceased,  
(Nor did the fire) but furiously increased,  
Until by 'tis piercing heat and powerful flashes,  
What ere it touched, mouldered away to Ashes.  
For now the fierce unbridled Flames presage  
That we shall know the extent of their rage,  
Begets a universal Conflagration,  
Greater than ever any Generation  
As yet ere knew, or heard of: Now it beats  
A broad path way into the spacious streets,  
Roves up to CORNHILL where with force they range,  
Until they overthrew the ROYAL-CHANGE,  
That stately Fabric, and its STATUES rare,  
Spoiled and consumed reduced to Ashes are,  
But honouring Reverend GRESHAM'S Effigy,  
Leaves him untouched, and gently passeth by.   

Monday Night.  
NOw did the World's bright Lamp (the SUN) expire,  
And every STAR did to its Orb retire,  
Whilst from the Fires foul stomach doth arise  
Dark smoky Vapours to the troubled Skies,  
And sometimes from its yawning throat are sent  
Bright Blazes to affright the Element:  
It's ravenous Jaws feed on, and chop down store  
Of slaughtered Buildings, and roar out for more,  
When as its greedy teeth had gnawn off all  
About a Carcase, down it lets it fall;  
And thus with base unsatiate appetite  
In riotous spoils feasts on all day and night.  
And now comes prancing to the POULTRY,  
Commanding there a Goal-delivery,  
That every pining Prisoner forthwith might,  
His wished for Liberty enjoy that Night,  
And so the strong built Walls its force did enter,  
(Which to oppose 'tis bootless to adventure)  
Thus in voracious manner crowding on,  
With Blazes that anticipate the SUN.   

Tuesday Morning.  
THough Melancholy Night had now fling by  
Her spangled Mantle, yet the heavy Eye  
Of every watchful Mortal doth retain  
A cloudy Sorrow, swollen big with rain;  
Tempestuous Sighs arise from every breast,  
And GRIEF'S sharp Iron-whip admits no rest.  
And now the cruel Flames that did despise  
All other streams, slight those fall from our Eyes.  
O now the blazing and prodigious Fire,  
Without remorse or pity, doth conspire  
To lay our CITY desolate and waste,  
And in regardless manner onwards passed  
Through stately CHEAP, on both sides of the way,  
And in such haste, as though it could not stay.  
The shouting Wind pursues the Victory,  
The Fire's displaying Flames his Ensigns be  
Whilst blub-cheeked BOREAS doth his Trumpet sound,  
The affrighted Walls do totter and sink down,  
To AEOLUS rude conduct there are lent,  
Of bright faced Soldiers a whole Regiment,  
Whose flexive head his blustering voice obey,  
And in their march outshine the Midnoon day;  
And thus they bend their fierce course towards the West,  
With flaming Feather in each glittering Crest.  
The dreadful Blaze appearing unto some,  
T'assimulate th' approaching DAY OF DOOM,  
When all the World consumed with Fire shall be,  
And TIME give place unto ETERNITY:  
Th'innumerous Sparks (that fall like feathered Snow)  
Like Heaven rejected STARS do seem to show,  
And the huge crowding Mountains of thick Smoke  
Like Heavens expanded Clouds appear to look.  
And now it Roars, Cracks, Rents, Murmurs, and Raves,  
Burying in ruins Sepulchers and Graves,  
And with a perverse envious mind is bend  
Not to leave standing one fair Monument,  
And to the lofty Bells of CORNHILL, BOW,  
That rung in pleasant Peals to us below,  
And chanted Chiming Music to each ear,  
These Flames their strong ATLEAN Arms did Rear,  
And soon as they on them their hot Palms lay,  
Sink down with hear, and (like Lead) melt away.  
At length a horrid, general Blaze appears,  
With eager course onwards towards PAUL'S it steers.  
And there it rallied all its Force and Power,  
And with extended Jaws gaped to devour  
At once that stately TEMPLE, which did stand  
So firmly propped by FAITHS supporting Hand;  
To whose Tuition many Tradesmen chose  
To trust valued Wares, and did 'em lose;  
Their fond Belief accounted it to be  
Beneath the reach of Fires malignity,  
When they before had seen its Force to rave  
From highest Loft, down to the lowest Cave.  
Now to this brave CATHEDRAL coming near,  
Her Veil it rends, doth her Immurements tear,  
Staggers, and sinks within its hot Embraces:  
And this thus vanquished, on in terror traces  
To LVD'S strong Gate, and making there no stay,  
Beat down the Prison Walls and went away,  
Commanding in his march, that every where  
At its approach, all PRISONERS be set clear.  
Thus in a Body terrible and wide  
Half a Miles breadth and more, from Water's side,  
It busseled up to FLEETSTREET; coming there,  
Each one now helpless grown, quite hopeless are:  
For that the Fire ere WEDNESDAY Sun did shine,  
Of CHURCHES brave had ruined Eighty Nine.  
The Fire affrighted SUBURBS now expects  
Their looked for Desolation, to be next  
Mantled in Flames; for which they now prepare,  
And of their Houses grown regardless are:  
Now FEAR and DANGER do with trembling arms  
Conduct distracted People from the Harms  
The forked Flames do threat: By Barge and Boat,  
And some by Horse and Wain do lodge remote  
Their Goods for safety, while that some bereft  
Of House by Fires cruelty, are left  
In Desolation and Adversity,  
And in the Fields are forced all night to lie,  
And there contentedly take for a Bed  
The Earth; Heaven for a Coverlett.   

Tuesday Night.  
NOw with the Sun the rambling Flames would rest,  
And coming to St. DUNSTAN'S IN THE WEST,  
Their twinkling eyes grown dim with too much light,  
Can scarcely see to bid the Day, Good Night.  
TITAN departed from our Hemisphere,  
The greater Flames all slept, save here and there  
Some Guardian Blazes lurk to call the rest,  
'Gainst such as should their slumbering infest.   

Wednesday Morning.  
THe Morning wakes, and with the Morn the Fire,  
Whose whispering voice seems softly to inquire  
For its lost Friend the Wind, who stole away  
By Night i'th' dark, not to be found next day.  
The hungry Paunch of this voracious Flame  
(Saving a morsel for its Breakfast) came  
With reunited Vigour to assail  
The sweeting TEMPLE, and for to unveil  
The Leaden Tecture that o'erspread her Head,  
It's fierce Assault raised Cries might wake the Dead.  
People grown desperate, and madly bold,  
Resolve Resistance, though the uncontrolled  
Audacious threatening Flames forbidden th'intent  
Of such as would its o'ergrown Force prevent.  
Engines prevail not, Buckets do no good,  
It's thirsty Mouth can guzzle up a Flood,  
And still it's parched panting Tongue out cries  
With greedy haste, for larger quick Supplies.  
Now here admire the goodness of our KING,  
Whose tender Heart bore SUBJECTS suffering!  
The active Prudence, and industrious Cares,  
Th'uncessant Labours, and the servant Prayers  
Of those two Royal Brothers CHARLES and JAMES,  
At last effected Conquest 'bove the Flames!  
The worthy Tears that trickle from the Eye  
Of his afflicted Sacred MAJESTY  
Prevailed with Heaven, whose fierce avenging Arm  
MERCY withholds; Strong Invocations charm  
His ireful Indignation, Entreaties urge  
Appeased Heaven to fling by his Scourge.  
The FIRE finds opposition, is content  
To be depressed, and so no farther went.   

Wednesday Night.  
WHile in the Field harborless People lie,  
Warching their Goods by Night, a sudden Cry  
Of ARMS, salutes the Ear of every one:  
Which way to go, or whither for to run  
They know not, now each one doth apprehend  
A certain Death; the sudden Fear doth lend  
To some MERCURIAN Feet, and to some  
A Resolution for to die at home.  
But all appeased, each one to rest betakes him,   

Thursday Morning.  
ANd now can lie until AURORA wakes him,  
Who with a smiling Aspect joys to see  
So much Abatement of our Misery.  
And SOL advancing of his curled Head,  
From th'ruddy Pillow of AVRORA'S Bed,  
Vowed he ne'er did (since the ALMIGHTY said,  
Let there be LIGHT, and so himself was made;  
Nor since his first Days Journey to the WEST,  
Or Great JEHOVAH took his SEVENTH Days rest)  
Behold so soon so great a Devastation  
In any AGE, or COUNTRY, TOWN, or NATION;  
As in THREE FATAL DAYS to ruinated,  
To spoil, consume, destroy, depopulate!  
A Place so Famous, so Renowned for Glory,  
That 'twas the Mirror both of AGE and STORY!    

London's Lamentation to her regardless Passengers.  

WHy do you slight me thus, and pass me by,  
Spurn my neglected, dusty Misery?  
You that have laid me in the fatal Urn  
Of SIN, and seen me there to ashes burn:  
You that with crimson Crimes, like Cables great,  
Pulled Vengeance on me, and my happy state  
Have made thus wretched, can you pass me by,  
And yet not at my Ruins wet your eye?  
If still thus unlamented be my Case,  
The Wind itself shall hurl my Dust i'th' Face  
Of him that doth not with a dropping eye  
Sprinkle my Ashes when he passeth by.  
Then let some deep-sought Sigh pump up a tear,  
And help from dust my downcast Head to rear:  
All my Demolishments, and ruin'd Glory,  
My battered Immurations fallen before you.  
My prostrate Structures on their faces lie,  
Yet every heedless Passenger walks by  
Regardless of my Moans, although I meet  
In humble manner now their scornful feet.   
Sa: Wisem   


273 Acres Waste within the City walls.  
075 Acr. 3 Roods unburnt within the City walls.  
063 Acr. 3 Roods waste without the walls.  
Houses burnt 130200.  
89 Parishes and Churches burnt.  
11 Parishes remaining.   


Surveyors. 

Ionas Moor,  
Ralph Gatrix,      
FINIS.