by surprise, that they had not time to weigh anchor, but cut their cables and made for their own coast. But there they faced about, and Monk, in his turn, was obliged to tack so abruptly, that his topmast went by the board, and whilst he was bringing his vessel into order, Sir William Berkeley, who had not noticed the accident, was amid the thick of the enemy, and, being unsupported, was soon killed on his quarter-deck, and his ship and a frigate attending him were taken. Sir Thomas Tyddiman refused to engage, and Sir John Harman, inclosed by the Dutch, had his masts shot away, and was severely wounded The masts and rigging of the English vessels were cut to pieces by chain shot, a new invention of admiral De Witt's, and Monk, with his disabled ships, had to sustain a desperate and destructive fight till it was dark. He then gave orders to make for the first English port, but in their haste and the darkness they ran upon the Galloper Sand, where the Prince Royal, the finest vessel in the fleet, grounded, and was taken by the Dutch. The next day Monk continued a retreating fight, and would probably have lost the whole fleet, but just then Rupert, with the white squadron, appeared in sight. The next morning the battle was renewed with more equal forces till they were separated by a fog, and when that cleared away the Dutch were seen in retreat. Both sides claimed the victory, but the English had certainly suffered most, and lost the most ships. The only wonder was that they had not lost the whole. Nothing, however, could exceed the lion-like courage of the seamen. "They may be killed," exclaimed De Witt, "but they cannot be conquered." They very soon reminded him of his words, for before the end of June they were at sea again fought and defeated him and De Ruyter, pursued them to their own coast, entered the channel between Ulie and Scheliing, and destroyed two men-of-war, one hundred and fifty merchantmen, and reduced the town of Brandaris to ashes. De Witt, enraged at this devastation, vowed to Almighty God that he would never sheath the sword till he had taken ample revenge.
In August a French fleet, under the duke of Beaufort, arrived from the Mediterranean to join the Dutch fleet under De Ruyter, which was already in the channel watching for position. Rupert, however, was on the look-out, and De Ruyter took refuge in the roadstead of Boulogne, and whilst Rupert was preparing to prevent the advance of Beaufort up the chancel, a storm obliged him to retreat to St. Helens, by which Beaufort was enabled to reach Dieppe; and the Dutch, severely damaged by the tempest, returned home. But this storm had produced a terrible catastrophe on land. A fire broke out in the night betwixt the 2nd and 3rd of September, in Pudding Lane, near Fish Street, where the monument to commemorate that event now, stands. It occurred in a bakehouse which was built of timber and had a pitched roof, and the buildings in general being of timber, it soon spread. The wind was raging furiously from the east, and the neighbourhood being filled with warehouses full of pitch, tar, rosin, and other combustible materials, the conflagration rushed along with a wonderful force and vehemence. The summer had been one of the hottest and dryest ever known, and the timber houses were in a state to catch and burn amazingly. Clarendon says, "The fire and the wind continued in the same excess all Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, till afternoon, and flung and scattered brands into all quarters; the nights more terrible than the days, and the light the same, the light of the fire supplying that of the sun." The timidity of the lord mayor favoured the progress of the flames. He at first refused to admit the military to prevent the plunder of the houses, and to keep off" the crowds where efforts were attempted to stop the fire; but nothing of that sort could be done, for the pipes from the New River were found to be empty, and the machine which raised water from the Thames was burnt to ashes. It was proposed to blow up some of the houses with gunpowder, to arrest the progress of the fire; but the aldermen, whose houses would be the first to be exploded, would not allow it, and thus permitted the advance of the raging element without saving their own property. Nearly the whole of the city from the Tower to Temple Bar was soon one raging mass of fire, the glare of which lit up the country for ten miles around.
The terrors of the catastrophe were fearfully aggravated by the wild rumours and suspicions that flew to and fro. It was declared to be the doings of the papists in combination with the French and Dutch, and the pipes of the New River works at Islington being empty confirmed it. One Grant, a catholic and partner in the works, was accused of having turned off the water on the preceding Saturday, and carried away the keys; but it was afterwards shown by the books of the company that Grant was not a partner there till the 25th of that month, three weeks afterwards. There were plenty of people ready to depose that they had seen men carrying about parcels of combustibles, which, on being crushed, burst out in inextinguishable flame, and others throwing fire-balls into houses. There were twenty thousand French resident in the city, and they were declared to be engaged with the catholics to massacre the whole population during the confusion of the fire. The most terrible confusion and terror spread—some were labouring frantically to extinguish the flames, others were hurrying out their goods and conveying them away, others flung from the expected massacre, and others coming out armed to oppose the murderers. Not a foreigner or catholic could appear in the streets without danger of his life. What made it worse, an insane Frenchman, of the name of Hubert, declared that it was he who set fire to the first house, and that his countrymen were in the plot to help him. He was examined, and was so evidently crazed, the judges declared to the king that they gave no credit whatever to his story, nor was there the smallest particle of proof produced; but the jury, in their terror and suspicion, pronounced him guilty, and the poor wretch was hanged. The inscription on the monument after the fire, however, and which was not erased till December, 1830, accused the catholics of being the incendiaries, for which reason. Pope, a catholic, speaking of the locale of the monument, says:—
Where the tall column lifts its head and lies.
"Let the cause be what it would," says Clarendon, "the effect was terrible, for above two parts of three of that great city, and those the most rich and wealthy parts, where the greatest warehouses and the best shops stood, the Royal Exchange, with all the streets about it—Lom-
