The GREAT FIRE OF LONDON was a major conflagration that swept through
the central parts of the English city of London from Sunday, 2
September to Wednesday, 5 September 1666. The fire gutted the
City of London
The death toll is unknown but traditionally thought to have been small, as only six verified deaths were recorded. This reasoning has recently been challenged on the grounds that the deaths of poor and middle-class people were not recorded, while the heat of the fire may have cremated many victims, leaving no recognisable remains. A melted piece of pottery on display at the Museum of London found by archaeologists in Pudding Lane , where the fire started, shows that the temperature reached 1250 °C .
* 1 Origin and consequences of the fire
* 2 London in the 1660s
* 2.1 Fire hazards in the city * 2.2 17th century firefighting
* 3 Failures in fighting the fire
* 4 Development of the fire
* 4.1 Sunday morning * 4.2 Sunday afternoon
* 4.3 Monday
* 4.3.1 Suspicion and fear
* 4.4 Tuesday * 4.5 Wednesday
* 5 Deaths and destruction * 6 Aftermath * 7 In culture * 8 See also * 9 Notes * 10 References * 11 External links
ORIGIN AND CONSEQUENCES OF THE FIRE
The Great Fire started at the bakery (or baker's house) of Thomas
Farriner (or Farynor) on
Pudding Lane shortly after midnight on
Sunday, 2 September and spread rapidly west across the City of London.
The major firefighting technique of the time was to create firebreaks
by means of demolition; this, however, was critically delayed owing to
the indecisiveness of
Lord Mayor of London
Order in the streets broke down as rumours arose of suspicious
foreigners setting fires. The fears of the homeless focused on the
French and Dutch, England's enemies in the ongoing Second Anglo-Dutch
War ; these substantial immigrant groups became victims of lynchings
and street violence. On Tuesday, the fire spread over most of the
City, destroying St Paul\'s Cathedral and leaping the
River Fleet to
threaten Charles II's court at
The social and economic problems created by the disaster were overwhelming. Evacuation from London and resettlement elsewhere were strongly encouraged by Charles II, who feared a London rebellion amongst the dispossessed refugees. Despite numerous radical proposals, London was reconstructed on essentially the same street plan used before the fire.
LONDON IN THE 1660S
Central London in 1666, with the burnt area shown in pink.
By the 1660s, London was by far the largest city in Britain,
estimated at half a million inhabitants.
John Evelyn , comparing
London to the
London had been a Roman settlement for four centuries and had become
progressively more crowded inside its defensive city wall. It had also
pushed outwards beyond the wall into squalid extramural slums such as
By the late 17th century, the City proper—the area bounded by the
City wall and the River
The aristocracy shunned the City and lived either in the countryside beyond the slum suburbs, or in the exclusive Westminster district (the modern West End ), the site of Charles II 's court at Whitehall. Wealthy people preferred to live at a convenient distance from the traffic-clogged, polluted, unhealthy City, especially after it was hit by a devastating outbreak of bubonic plague in the Plague Year of 1665.
The relationship was often tense between the City and the Crown. The
City of London
They were determined to thwart any similar tendencies in his son, and
when the Great Fire threatened the City, they refused the offers that
Charles made of soldiers and other resources. Even in such an
emergency, the idea of having the unpopular Royal troops ordered into
the City was political dynamite. By the time that Charles took over
command from the ineffectual Lord Mayor, the fire was already out of
control. A Panorama of the
City of London
FIRE HAZARDS IN THE CITY
Charles II .
The City was essentially medieval in its street plan, an overcrowded warren of narrow, winding, cobbled alleys. It had experienced several major fires before 1666, the most recent in 1632. Building with wood and roofing with thatch had been prohibited for centuries, but these cheap materials continued to be used. The only major stone-built area was the wealthy centre of the City, where the mansions of the merchants and brokers stood on spacious lots, surrounded by an inner ring of overcrowded poorer parishes whose every inch of building space was used to accommodate the rapidly growing population. These parishes contained workplaces, many of which were fire hazards—foundries , smithies , glaziers —which were theoretically illegal in the City but tolerated in practice.
The human habitations were crowded to bursting point, intermingled with these sources of heat, sparks, and pollution, and their construction increased the fire risk. The typical six- or seven-storey timbered London tenement houses had "jetties " (projecting upper floors). They had a narrow footprint at ground level, but maximised their use of land by "encroaching" on the street, as a contemporary observer put it, with the gradually increasing size of their upper storeys. The fire hazard was well perceived when the top jetties all but met across the narrow alleys; "as it does facilitate a conflagration, so does it also hinder the remedy", wrote one observer —but "the covetousness of the citizens and connivancy of Magistrates" worked in favour of jetties. In 1661, Charles II issued a proclamation forbidding overhanging windows and jetties, but this was largely ignored by the local government. Charles's next, sharper message in 1665 warned of the risk of fire from the narrowness of the streets and authorised both imprisonment of recalcitrant builders and demolition of dangerous buildings. It, too, had little impact.
The river front was important in the development of the Great Fire.
London was also full of black powder , especially along the river
front. Much of it was left in the homes of private citizens from the
days of the English Civil War, as the former members of Oliver
New Model Army
17TH CENTURY FIREFIGHTING
"Firehooks" used to fight a fire at Tiverton in Devon, England, 1612.
Fires were common in the crowded wood-built city with its open fireplaces, candles, ovens, and stores of combustibles. There was no police or fire brigade to call, but London's local militia , known as the Trained Bands , was available for general emergencies, at least in principle, and watching for fire was one of the jobs of the watch , a thousand watchmen or "bellmen" who patrolled the streets at night. Self-reliant community procedures were in place for dealing with fires, and they were usually effective. Public-spirited citizens would be alerted to a dangerous house fire by muffled peals on the church bells, and would congregate hastily to fight the fire.
The methods available for this relied on demolition and water. By law, the tower of every parish church had to hold equipment for these efforts: long ladders, leather buckets, axes, and "firehooks" for pulling down buildings (see illustration right, see also pike pole ). Sometimes taller buildings were levelled to the ground quickly and effectively by means of controlled gunpowder explosions. This drastic method of creating firebreaks was increasingly used towards the end of the Great Fire, and modern historians believe that it was what finally won the struggle.
FAILURES IN FIGHTING THE FIRE
An advertisement for a comparatively small and manoeuvrable seventeenth-century fire engine on wheels: "These Engins, (which are the best) to quinch great Fires; are made by John Keeling in Black Fryers (after many years' Experience)."
The 18-foot (5.5 m) high Roman wall enclosing the City put the fleeing homeless at risk of being shut into the inferno. Once the riverfront was on fire and the escape route cut off by boat, the only exits were the eight gates in the wall. During the first couple of days, few people had any notion of fleeing the burning City altogether. They would remove what they could carry of their belongings to the nearest "safe house", in many cases the parish church or the precincts of St Paul's Cathedral, only to have to move again hours later. Some moved their belongings and themselves "four and five times" in a single day. The perception of a need to get beyond the walls only took root late on the Monday, and then there were near-panic scenes at the narrow gates as distraught refugees tried to get out with their bundles, carts, horses, and wagons.
The crucial factor which frustrated firefighting efforts was the narrowness of the streets. Even under normal circumstances, the mix of carts, wagons, and pedestrians in the undersized alleys was subject to frequent traffic jams and gridlock . During the fire, the passages were additionally blocked by refugees camping in them amongst their rescued belongings, or escaping outwards, away from the centre of destruction, as demolition teams and fire engine crews struggled in vain to move in towards it.
Demolishing the houses downwind of a dangerous fire was often an effective way of containing the destruction by means of firehooks or explosives. This time, however, demolition was fatally delayed for hours by the Lord Mayor's lack of leadership and failure to give the necessary orders. By the time that orders came directly from the King to "spare no houses", the fire had devoured many more houses, and the demolition workers could no longer get through the crowded streets.
The use of water to extinguish the fire was also frustrated. In
principle, water was available from a system of elm pipes which
supplied 30,000 houses via a high water tower at Cornhill , filled
from the river at high tide, and also via a reservoir of Hertfordshire
spring water in
This did not happen, or at least was no longer happening by the time that Pepys viewed the fire from the river at mid-morning on the Sunday. Pepys comments in his diary that nobody was trying to put it out, but instead they fled from it in fear, hurrying "to remove their goods, and leave all to the fire." The flames crept towards the river front with little interference from the overwhelmed community and soon torched the flammable warehouses along the wharves. The resulting conflagration cut off the firefighters from the immediate water supply from the river and set alight the water wheels under London Bridge which pumped water to the Cornhill water tower; the direct access to the river and the supply of piped water failed together.
London possessed advanced fire-fighting technology in the form of fire engines , which had been used in earlier large-scale fires. However, unlike the useful firehooks, these large pumps had rarely proved flexible or functional enough to make much difference. Only some of them had wheels; others were mounted on wheelless sleds. They had to be brought a long way, tended to arrive too late, and had limited reach, with spouts but no delivery hoses.
On this occasion, an unknown number of fire engines were either wheeled or dragged through the streets, some from across the City. The piped water had already failed which they were designed to use, but parts of the river bank could still be reached. Gangs of men tried desperately to manoeuvre the engines right up to the river to fill their reservoirs, and several of the engines toppled into the Thames. The heat from the flames by then was too great for the remaining engines to get within a useful distance; they could not even get into Pudding Lane.
DEVELOPMENT OF THE FIRE
The personal experiences of many Londoners during the fire are
glimpsed in letters and memoirs. The two best-known diarists of the
After two rainy summers in 1664 and 1665, London had lain under an
exceptional drought since November 1665, and the wooden buildings were
tinder-dry after the long hot summer of 1666. A fire broke out at
Thomas Farriner's bakery in
Pudding Lane a little after midnight on
Sunday 2 September. The family was trapped upstairs but managed to
climb from an upstairs window to the house next door, except for a
maidservant who was too frightened to try, who became the first
victim. The neighbours tried to help douse the fire; after an hour,
the parish constables arrived and judged that the adjoining houses had
better be demolished to prevent further spread. The householders
When Bloodworth arrived, the flames were consuming the adjoining
houses and creeping towards the paper warehouses and flammable stores
on the river front. The more experienced firemen were clamouring for
demolition, but Bloodworth refused on the grounds that most premises
were rented and the owners could not be found. Bloodworth is generally
thought to have been appointed to the office of
Pepys was a senior official in the Navy Office by then, and he
Tower of London
He took a boat to inspect the destruction around
Pudding Lane at
close range and describes a "lamentable" fire, "everybody 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."
Pepys continued westward on the river to the court at
Young schoolboy William Taswell had bolted from the early morning
The fire spread quickly in the high wind and, by mid-morning on
Sunday, people abandoned attempts at extinguishing it and fled. The
moving human mass and their bundles and carts made the lanes
impassable for firemen and carriages. Pepys took a coach back into the
city from Whitehall, but only reached
St Paul's Cathedral
Pepys found Bloodworth trying to co-ordinate the fire-fighting
efforts and near to collapse, "like a fainting woman", crying out
plaintively in response to the King's message that he was pulling down
houses. "But the fire overtakes us faster then we can do it." Holding
on to his civic dignity, he refused James's offer of soldiers and then
went home to bed. King Charles II sailed down from
By Sunday afternoon, 18 hours after the alarm was raised in Pudding Lane, the fire had become a raging firestorm that created its own weather. A tremendous uprush of hot air above the flames was driven by the chimney effect wherever constrictions narrowed the air current, such as the constricted space between jettied buildings, and this left a vacuum at ground level. The resulting strong inward winds did not tend to put the fire out, as might be thought; instead, they supplied fresh oxygen to the flames, and the turbulence created by the uprush made the wind veer erratically both north and south of the main easterly direction of the gale which was still blowing.
Pepys went again on the river in the early evening with his wife and some friends, "and to the fire up and down, it still encreasing". They ordered the boatman to go "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". When the "firedrops" became unbearable, the party went on to an alehouse on the South Bank and stayed there till darkness came and they could see the fire on London Bridge and across the river, "as only one entire arch of fire from this to the other side of the bridge, and in a bow up the hill for an arch of above a mile long: it made me weep to see it". Pepys described this arch of fire as "a bow with God's arrow in it with a shining point".
The London Gazette for 3–10 September, facsimile front page with an account of the Great Fire. Click on the image to enlarge and read.
The fire was principally expanding north and west by dawn on Monday,
3 September, the turbulence of the fire storm pushing the flames both
farther south and farther north than the day before. The spread to
the south was mostly halted by the river, but it had torched the
The fire's spread to the north reached the financial heart of the City. The houses of the bankers in Lombard Street began to burn on Monday afternoon, prompting a rush to get their stacks of gold coins to safety before they melted away, so crucial to the wealth of the city and the nation. Several observers emphasise the despair and helplessness which seemed to seize Londoners on this second day, and the lack of efforts to save the wealthy, fashionable districts which were now menaced by the flames, such as the Royal Exchange —combined bourse and shopping centre – and the opulent consumer goods shops in Cheapside . The Royal Exchange caught fire in the late afternoon, and was a smoking shell within a few hours. John Evelyn, courtier and diarist, wrote:
“ The conflagration was so universal, and the people so astonished, that from the beginning, I know not by what despondency or fate, they hardly stirred to quench it, so that there was nothing heard or seen but crying out and lamentation, running about like distracted creatures without at all attempting to save even their goods, such a strange consternation there was upon them. ”
Evelyn lived in
In the evening, Evelyn reported that the river was covered with barges and boats making their escape piled with goods. He observed a great exodus of carts and pedestrians through the bottleneck City gates, making for the open fields to the north and east, "which for many miles were strewed with moveables of all sorts, and tents erecting to shelter both people and what goods they could get away. Oh, the miserable and calamitous spectacle!" Approximate damage by the evening of Monday, 3 September John Evelyn (1620–1706) in 1651.
Suspicion And Fear
Suspicion soon arose in the threatened city that the fire was no accident. The swirling winds carried sparks and burning flakes long distances to lodge on thatched roofs and in wooden gutters , causing seemingly unrelated house fires to break out far from their source and giving rise to rumours that fresh fires were being set on purpose. Foreigners were immediately suspects because of the current Second Anglo-Dutch War. Fear and suspicion hardened into certainty on Monday, as reports circulated of imminent invasion and of foreign undercover agents seen casting "fireballs" into houses, or caught with hand grenades or matches. There was a wave of street violence. William Taswell saw a mob loot the shop of a French painter and level it to the ground, and watched in horror as a blacksmith walked up to a Frenchman in the street and hit him over the head with an iron bar.
The fears of terrorism received an extra boost from the disruption of communications and news as facilities were devoured by the fire. The General Letter Office in Threadneedle Street burned down early on Monday morning, through which post passed for the entire country. The London Gazette just managed to put out its Monday issue before the printer's premises went up in flames. The whole nation depended on these communications, and the void which they left filled up with rumours.
There were also religious alarms of renewed Gunpowder Plots . Suspicions rose to panic and collective paranoia on Monday, and both the Trained Bands and the Coldstream Guards focused less on fire fighting and more on rounding up foreigners, Catholics, and any odd-looking people, arresting them or rescuing them from mobs, or both together.
The inhabitants were growing desperate to remove their belongings from the City, especially the upper class. This provided a source of income for the able-bodied poor, who hired out as porters (sometimes simply making off with the goods), and it was especially profitable for the owners of carts and boats. Hiring a cart had cost a couple of shillings on the Saturday before the fire; on Monday, it rose to as much as £40, a fortune equivalent to more than £4,000 in 2005.
Seemingly every cart and boat owner within reach of London made their way towards the City to share in these opportunities, the carts jostling at the narrow gates with the panicked inhabitants trying to get out. The chaos at the gates was such that the magistrates ordered the gates shut on Monday afternoon, in the hope of turning the inhabitants' attention from safeguarding their own possessions to fighting the fire: "that, no hopes of saving any things left, they might have more desperately endeavoured the quenching of the fire." This headlong and unsuccessful measure was rescinded the next day.
Monday marked the beginning of organised action, even as order broke
down in the streets, especially at the gates, and the fire raged
unchecked. Bloodworth was responsible as
James set up command posts round the perimeter of the fire, press-ganging into teams of well-paid and well-fed firemen any men of the lower classes found in the streets. Three courtiers were put in charge of each post, with authority from Charles himself to order demolitions. This visible gesture of solidarity from the Crown was intended to cut through the citizens' misgivings about being held financially responsible for pulling down houses. James and his life guards rode up and down the streets all Monday, rescuing foreigners from the mob and attempting to keep order. "The Duke of York hath won the hearts of the people with his continual and indefatigable pains day and night in helping to quench the Fire," wrote a witness in a letter on 8 September.
On Monday evening, hopes were dashed that the massive stone walls of
Baynard\'s Castle , Blackfriars would stay the course of the flames,
the western counterpart of the
Tower of London
A contemporary account said that King Charles in person worked manually, that day or later, to help throw water on flames and to help demolish buildings to make a firebreak.
Tuesday, 4 September was the day of greatest destruction. The Duke of York's command post at Temple Bar , where Strand meets Fleet Street , was supposed to stop the fire's westward advance towards the Palace of Whitehall. He hoped that the River Fleet would form a natural firebreak, making a stand with his firemen from the Fleet Bridge and down to the Thames. However, early on Tuesday morning, the flames jumped over the Fleet and outflanked them, driven by the unabated easterly gale, forcing them to run for it. There was consternation at the palace as the fire continued implacably westward; "Oh, the confusion there was then at that court!" wrote Evelyn. Ludgate in flames, with St Paul\'s Cathedral in the distance (square tower without the spire) now catching flames. Oil painting by anonymous artist, ca. 1670.
Working to a plan at last, James's firefighters had also created a large firebreak to the north of the conflagration. It contained the fire until late afternoon, when the flames leapt across and began to destroy the wide, affluent luxury shopping street of Cheapside .
Everybody had thought St. Paul\'s Cathedral a safe refuge, with its thick stone walls and natural firebreak in the form of a wide, empty surrounding plaza. It had been crammed full of rescued goods and its crypt filled with the tightly packed stocks of the printers and booksellers in adjoining Paternoster Row . However, an enormous stroke of bad luck meant that the building was covered in wooden scaffolding, undergoing piecemeal restoration by a relatively unknown Christopher Wren . The scaffolding caught fire on Tuesday night.
Leaving school, young William Taswell stood on Westminster Stairs a mile away and watched as the flames crept round the cathedral and the burning scaffolding ignited the timbered roof beams. Within half an hour, the lead roof was melting, and the books and papers in the crypt caught with a roar. "The stones of Paul's flew like grenados ," reported Evelyn in his diary, "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." The cathedral was quickly a ruin.
During the day, the flames began to move eastward from the neighbourhood of Pudding Lane, straight against the prevailing east wind and towards Pepys's home on Seething Lane and the Tower of London with its gunpowder stores. The garrison at the Tower took matters into their own hands after waiting all day for requested help from James's official firemen who were busy in the west. They created firebreaks by blowing up houses on a large scale in the vicinity, halting the advance of the fire. In a letter to William Coventry , Pepys wrote that he "saw how horribly 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."
Approximate damage by the evening of Tuesday, 4 September. The fire did not spread significantly on Wednesday, 5 September. James, Duke of York, later James II .
The wind dropped on Tuesday evening, and the firebreaks created by the garrison finally began to take effect on Wednesday 5 September. Stopping the fire caused much fire and demolition damage in the lawyers\' area called the Temple . Pepys walked all over the smouldering city, getting his feet hot, and climbed the steeple of Barking Church , from which he viewed the destroyed City, "the saddest sight of desolation that I ever saw." There were many separate fires still burning themselves out, but the Great Fire was over.
Pepys visited Moorfields , a large public park immediately north of the City, and saw a great encampment of homeless refugees, "poor wretches carrying their good there, and every body keeping his goods together by themselves". He noted that the price of bread had doubled in the environs of the park. Evelyn also went out to Moorfields, which was turning into the main point of assembly for the homeless, and was horrified at the numbers of distressed people filling it, some under tents, others in makeshift shacks: "Many without a rag or any necessary utensils, bed or board ... reduced to extremest misery and poverty." Evelyn was impressed by the pride of these distressed Londoners, "tho' ready to perish for hunger and destitution, yet not asking one pennie for relief."
Fears were as high as ever among the traumatised fire victims, fear
of foreign arsonists and of a French and Dutch invasion. There was an
outbreak of general panic on Wednesday night in the encampments at
Parliament Hill , Moorfields, and
The mood was now so volatile that Charles feared a full-scale London rebellion against the monarchy. Food production and distribution had been disrupted to the point of non-existence; Charles announced that supplies of bread would be brought into the City every day, and safe markets set up round the perimeter. These markets were for buying and selling; there was no question of distributing emergency aid.
DEATHS AND DESTRUCTION
Only a few deaths from the fire are officially recorded, and deaths are traditionally believed to have been few. Porter gives the figure as eight and Tinniswood as "in single figures", although he adds that some deaths must have gone unrecorded and that, besides direct deaths from burning and smoke inhalation , refugees also perished in the impromptu camps.
Hanson takes issue with the idea that there were only a few deaths,
enumerating known deaths from hunger and exposure among survivors of
the fire, "huddled in shacks or living among the ruins that had once
been their homes" in the cold winter that followed, including, for
The fire was fed not merely by wood, fabrics, and thatch, Hanson points out, but also by the oil, pitch, coal, tallow, fats, sugar, alcohol, turpentine, and gunpowder stored in the riverside district. It melted the imported steel lying along the wharves (melting point between 1,250 and 1,480 °C (2,300 and 2,700 °F)) and the great iron chains and locks on the City gates (melting point between 1,100 and 1,650 °C (2,000 and 3000 °F)). Nor would anonymous bone fragments have been of much interest to the hungry people sifting through the tens of thousands of tons of rubble and debris after the fire, looking for valuables, or to the workmen clearing away the rubble later during the rebuilding.
Hanson appeals to common sense and "the experience of every other major urban fire down the centuries", emphasising that the fire attacked the rotting tenements of the poor with furious speed, surely trapping at the very least "the old, the very young, the halt and the lame" and burying the dust and ashes of their bones under the rubble of cellars, producing a death toll not of four or eight, but of "several hundred and quite possibly several thousand."
The material destruction has been computed at 13,500 houses, 87
parish churches, 44 Company Halls, the Royal Exchange , the Custom
House , St Paul's Cathedral, the
Bridewell Palace and other City
prisons, the General Letter Office , and the three western city
An example of the urge to identify scapegoats for the fire is the
acceptance of the confession of a simple-minded French watchmaker
Robert Hubert , who claimed that he was an agent of the Pope and
had started the Great Fire in Westminster. He later changed his story
to say that he had started the fire at the bakery in Pudding Lane.
Hubert was convicted, despite some misgivings about his fitness to
plead , and hanged at Tyburn on 28 September 1666. After his death, it
became apparent that he had been on board a ship in the North Sea, and
had not arrived in London until two days after the fire started.
These allegations that Catholics had started the fire were exploited
as powerful political propaganda by opponents of pro-Catholic Charles
II's court, mostly during the
Abroad in the Netherlands, the
Great Fire of London
On 5 October, Marc Antonio Giustinian, Venetian Ambassador in France,
reported to the
Doge of Venice and the Senate, that Louis XIV
announced that he would not "have any rejoicings about it, being such
a deplorable accident involving injury to so many unhappy people".
Louis had made an offer to his aunt, the British Queen Henrietta Maria
, to send food and whatever goods might be of aid in alleviating the
plight of Londoners, yet he made no secret that he regarded "the fire
of London as a stroke of good fortune for him " as it reduced the risk
of French ships crossing the Channel and the
In the chaos and unrest after the fire, Charles II feared another London rebellion. He encouraged the homeless to move away from London and settle elsewhere, immediately issuing a proclamation that "all Cities and Towns whatsoever shall without any contradiction receive the said distressed persons and permit them the free exercise of their manual trades." A special Fire Court was set up to deal with disputes between tenants and landlords and decide who should rebuild, based on ability to pay. The Court was in session from February 1667 to September 1672. Cases were heard and a verdict usually given within a day; without the Fire Court, lengthy legal wrangles would have seriously delayed the rebuilding which was so necessary if London was to recover.
Radical rebuilding schemes poured in for the gutted City and were
encouraged by Charles. If it had been rebuilt under some of these
plans, London would have rivalled Paris in
With the complexities of ownership unresolved, none of the grand
On Charles' initiative, a
Monument to the Great Fire of London was
erected near Pudding Lane, designed by
“ Here by permission of heaven, hell broke loose upon this Protestant city.....the most dreadful Burning of this City; begun and carried on by the treachery and malice of the Popish faction...Popish frenzy which wrought such horrors, is not yet quenched... ”
The inscription remained in place until 1830 after the passage of the
Roman Catholic Relief Act 1829
Another monument marks the spot where the fire stopped: the Golden
Boy of Pye Corner in Smithfield . According to the inscription, it was
evidence of God's wrath on the
City of London
The Great Plague epidemic of 1665 is believed to have killed a sixth of London's inhabitants, or 80,000 people, and it is sometimes suggested that the fire saved lives in the long run by burning down so much unsanitary housing with their rats and their fleas which transmitted the plague, as plague epidemics did not recur in London after the fire. Historians disagree as to whether the fire played a part in preventing subsequent major outbreaks. The Museum of London website claims that there was a connection, while historian Roy Porter points out that the fire left the most insalubrious parts of London, the slum suburbs, untouched.
Following the Fire, the thoroughfares of Queen Street and King Street
were newly laid out, cutting across more ancient thoroughfares in the
City, creating a new route up from the
"London's Burning" Play (help ·info )
William Harrison Ainsworth 's novel Old St Paul\'s is set during the events of the fire.
The Great Fire was released on ITV television in 2014. It was shown in four episodes. It constructs a fictional scenario involving the Pudding Lane baker's family in an alleged popish plot .
The round "London\'s Burning " is said to be about the Great Fire. However, the first notation of a song in this theme dates from 1580 as "Scotland's Burning".
See Category:Former buildings and structures in the
City of London
* ^ All dates are given according to the
* Evelyn, John (1854). Diary and Correspondence of John Evelyn,
F.R.S. London: Hurst and Blackett. Retrieved 5 November 2006.
* Hanson, Neil (2001). The Dreadful Judgement: The True Story of the
Great Fire of London. New York: Doubleday. For a review of Hanson's
work, see Lauzanne, Alain. "Revue pluridisciplinaire du monde
anglophone". Cercles. Retrieved 12 October 2006.
* Hanson, Neil (2002). The Great Fire of London: In That Apocalyptic
Year, 1666. Hoboken, New Jersey: John Wiley and Sons. A
"substantially different" version of Hanson's The Dreadful Judgement
* Leasor, James (2011) . The Plague and the Fire. ISBN
* "London: the city as a phoenix – The Great Fire of London".
Wikimedia Commons has media related to GREAT FIRE OF LONDON .
* * Great Fire of