Read With the King at Oxford: A Tale of the Great Rebellion Page 3


  CHAPTER II.

  OF MY SOJOURN IN LONDON.

  My sojourn with Master Rushworth was but for a time. Accordingly somethree days, or thereabouts, after that I had been a spectator of thelawyers' great masque, I changed my abode to the house of one Mr.Timothy Drake, a woollen draper, that dwelt upon London Bridge, on thenorth side. Master Drake was bound to my kinsman Master Harford, ofwhom I have before spoken, by many obligations of benefits received;and when the said uncle, being single and well advanced in years, wasunwilling to be troubled with the charge of a child, Master Drakegladly received me; not, I suppose, without good consideration given.It was judged to be more convenient for me to lodge upon the bridge,which is but little more than a stone's throw from the MerchantTaylors' School, than in the Strand; nor was I unwilling to go, but mysojourn there was but for a very short time, as I shall presentlyshow.

  'Twas a marvellous place this same London Bridge, more like, indeed,to a village than a bridge, having on either side houses, some of thembeing shops, as was that in which I dwelt, and some taverns, and someprivate dwellings. And about the middle of the bridge stood a greatbuilding, which they called Nonesuch House, very splendidly paintedwith colours, and having wooden galleries hanging over the river,richly ornamented with carving and gilding. This Nonesuch Housecovered the whole breadth of the bridge from the one side to theother; and in the middle of it was an arch with the road passing underit.

  _London Bridge._ _HANHART LITH._]

  The bridge had, or, I should rather say, has (for it still stands andwill, I doubt not, stand for many ages to come) twenty arches, ofwhich one is blocked. They are but small, the purpose of the builder,Peter of Colechurch, having been, it is said, thus to restrain theebbing of the tide, and so to make the river above the bridge moreeasily navigable. I should rather think, if I may say so much withoutwrong to the pious man, that in that rude age (now near upon fivecenturies since) he knew not how to build bigger. And being thus smallthey are still further diminished by the sterlings that are builtabout the piers, to keep them from damage by ice or floods. Thus itcame to pass that of nine hundred feet (for such is the length of thebridge from end to end) scarce two hundred remain for the waterway.The consequence thereof is that when the water is lower than thesterlings it rushes through the arches with a singular great violence.How great it is may be judged from this, that in some of the archesthere is a waterfall, so to speak, of as much as two feet, when thetide is at its strongest; and this strongest is when it is abouthalf-spent, running upwards; but why the flow should be stronger thanthe ebb I know not, seeing that this latter is increased by thenatural current of the river. I do remember, if I may delay those thatshall read this chronicle with such childish recollections, how Imarvelled at the first at this same ebb and flow, of which I had neverbefore heard. On the first day of my coming to Master Drake's house,being, as I remember, the seventh day of February, I looked out frommy chamber window about half-past five of the clock, and saw theThames full to his banks and flowing eastward, as by rights he should,it being then but just past the flood. But the next time that Ichanced to cast my eyes on him, the tide having but newly begun toflow, lo! he was dwindled to half his span, and ran westward. Of atruth I thought that there was witchcraft, and, being a simple child,ran down into my host's parlour, crying, "What ails the river that itis half-spent and runs the wrong way?" and was much laughed at for mypains.

  I thought to have much pleasure from sojourn in the house upon thebridge, and doubtless should have had but for the sad mishap of whichI shall shortly speak. For indeed there was much to be seen daily uponthe river. On the eastern side, looking, that is to say, towards thesea, there were goodly ships from all parts of the world, lading andunlading their cargoes, for through the bridge none could go; nay, thevery wherries, for the violence of the water, would not venture thepassage save at the highest or lowest of the tide; but passengers weredischarged on the one side and took boat again on the other. And onthe western side there were the barges of my Lord Mayor and of thericher of the Companies; and barges of trade, carrying all manner ofgoods and especially timber, both for building and burning; and smallboats almost without number, both of private persons and of watermenthat plied for hire. And on occasions there were races among thewatermen and also among the 'prentices of the City. And there wereother sports, notably that of tilting upon the water, in which thevanquisher would dismount the vanquished, not indeed from his horsebut from his boat, and sometimes drive him into the water, with nosmall laughter from the spectators. The bridge also afforded anotherpastime, for when the tide was so far ebbed that it was possible tostand upon the sterlings (which were at other times covered withwater) there were many fishes to be caught, for these commonly resortwhere there is abundance of food to be found, as must needs be in sogreat a city as London. And if any cannot conceive of the anglers'craft as practised in the midst of such din and tumult, they may takeas a proof that the makers of anglers' tackle congregate in CrookedLane, which is hard by the bridge, more than in any other place inLondon.

  Being also a lad, for all my tender years, of an active fancy and aptto muse by myself, and to build castles in the air, or, as some say,in Spain, for my delight, I did not forget the story of EdwardOsborne, that was 'prentice to Sir William Hewet, clothworker, sometime Lord Mayor of London, how he leapt from the window of one of thebridge houses, and saved his master's daughter that had been droppedinto the river by a careless maid. All the dwellers on the bridge havethe story ready, so to speak, on the tip of their tongues, as if itwere a credit to themselves; nor would I discourage the thought, forhaply it might give a lad boldness to venture his life in the likegallant way. Hence, before I had been in the house an hour they showedme the window from which the said Edward leapt. All the world knows, Isuppose, how he afterwards married this same daughter, and receivedwith her a great estate, and how he rose to great prosperity, beingLord Mayor in the year 1583, and how his posterity are to this daypersons of great worship and renown, who will yet, if I mistake not,rise higher in the state. 'Tis true I was no 'prentice, nor had MasterDrake a daughter, save one that must have been forty years of age atthe very least; but what are these hindrances to the fancy when it isminded to disport in its own realms?

  But now for the mishap which scattered these fancies and the hopes ofother delights, of which I have before spoken. I came, as I have said,to sojourn with Master Drake on the seventh day of February, being, asI remember, a Thursday; and on the Monday following my sojourn wasended. Near to Master Drake's house dwelt Mr. John Briggs, aneedle-maker by trade, who was wont to keep up a brisk fire for thecarrying on of his craft. This being maintained at a greater heightand for a longer time together than was customary, trade being beyondordinary brisk, heated the woodwork adjoining, than which there is, asI conceive, no more common cause of such mischief. This at least, wasconjectured at the time, for nothing could be known of a certainty.What is established is, that about ten of the clock at night on Mondayaforesaid, the fire began in Mr. Briggs' house, and that so suddenlyand with such violence that he and his wife and child, a maid of aboutfour years (who, as being of a more convenient age and size thanMistress Tabitha Drake, I had resolved should fall into the river andbe saved by me) escaped with their lives very hardly, having nothingon but their shirts, and it may be said, the smoke, so near did theycome to being burned. Nor were we in much better case, save thatMaster Drake and his wife and daughter, having entertained the parsonof the parish to supper ('twas in the parish of St. Magnus the Martyr)had not yet gone to bed. Thus they were able not only to savethemselves and me, who was in bed and sound asleep, more easily, butalso to carry off some of their chief possessions. As for putting outof the fire, little or nothing could be done. A man might have thoughtthat, the houses being on a bridge, there would be sufficient water athand to prevent a fire, how great soever. But it was not so. Byill-luck it happened that the river was at its very lowest, so thatthe engines, of which there were three, newly made, and much adm
iredfor their excellence, could get no water from it, and, indeed, werebroken in the endeavour. And when the conduits were opened, and thepipes that carried water through the streets cut, these also yieldedbut little water, so that the fire raged almost without let orhindrance. Yet such water as there was, was used to the uttermost, mencarrying the buckets up ladders, which were set against the burninghouses, and pouring them upon the flames. From this, indeed, cameother damages, for the ladders were burnt through, to the hurt ofmany, by the breaking of their arms and legs, and even to the loss oftheir lives. All that night and the next day until noon the firecontinued to burn fiercely; nor did it stop till it came to the firstempty space upon the bridge; there it was stayed for want of matter,the brewers' men that were on the other side of the river also helpingby bringing abundance of water on their drays and wetting the housesthat were yet unconsumed. There were forty-three houses burned in all,being about the third part of those that stood upon the bridge. Theroad was so blocked by the ruins that, though as many as had space tostand laboured to carry away the timber and bricks, and tiles andrubbish, none could pass over the bridge before Wednesday, and therewere remains of the fire yet smouldering on the Tuesday following, asI learned to my cost, having on that day burnt my finger with a livecoal of fire which I took up in my hand.

  By God's mercy, the night was warm, or else the inhabitants that wereousted so suddenly from their homes had suffered much. It was still,also, a matter for which we are yet more bound to be thankful; for hadthe wind, which was, indeed, from the south, and so blew towards theCity, been strong, London itself would have been much endangered, themore so as the traders in Thames Street have much pitch, tar, rosin,oil, and other inflammable goods in their houses. Indeed, were Iminded to prophesy, I should say that some day, there will arise inthis very part of London, for nowhere is the peril greater, such aconflagration as has never been seen in the world; save only, it maybe, when Rome was set on fire by that mad Caesar, Nero.

  As for myself, I found shelter, for the time, with my kinsman, MasterHarford, in his fine mansion, hard by the Church of Saint Peter onCornhill. Whether he would have kept me now that his scheme of lodgingme with Master Drake had fallen through, I cannot say; but, if he everentertained any such purpose, it was shortly dismissed by reason of mybehaviour. 'Twas, as I have said, a fine mansion, Master Harford beingone of the wealthiest merchants in London, and the table keptproportionate thereto. There was no mistress of the house, MasterHarford being, as I have said, a bachelor, but a housekeeper, JoanFuller by name, a kind woman, and knowing in all the knowledge of thestore-room and kitchen, but otherwise of scant sense. She, having noneon whom to bestow her affections, save a cat and a dog, took a mightyfavour to me, which favour she showed in the fashion that she herselfwould have most approved, if I may say so much without unkindness tothe memory of one that is now deceased; for she plied me, both inseason and out of season, with all manner of dainty meats, so that inthe space of eight days or thereabouts I fell sick. 'Twas no greatmatter, only a sickness as would come to any child that had been sodealt with, and was easily set right by the apothecary's medicines,which, to my mind, so nauseous were they, did more than outweigh allthe pleasure of my dainty feeding; but it settled Master Harford inhis intention to lodge me elsewhere than in his own house. MasterDrake could not entertain me any more, having to be content with scantlodging for himself and his wife and daughter. Nor was there any talkof building up the houses again; and this, indeed, was not done formore than thirteen years after the burning; but the sides of thebridge where they had been were covered in with boarding. So it cameabout that I was sent back to my first lodging with Master Rushworth,in the Strand.

  He was, as I have said, a merchant of timber, and had his house in theStrand, on the north side, with a yard on the other side of thestreet, in which he stored his goods and did his buying and selling.In this I was free to play as much as suited my liking, and here alsoI found great delights, of which the chief, I think, was the discoverythat the captain of one of the barges which brought him timber was acertain William Beasley, of Oxford, who had served my father asbailiff and fisherman, and in other employments, as many as a singlepair of his hands could discharge. With him I had much talk, andalways counted this talk very precious, it being chiefly of homematters, so that only the actual going thither could by any means bemore to be desired.