CHAPTER XVII. SCENES OF TERROR.
"Father! sweet father! thank Heaven thou art come! Methought weshould be burned alive in this terrible house. Methought perchanceall of you had been burned. O father! tell me, what is befalling?It is like the last judgment, when all the world shall be consumedwith fervent heat!"
Dorcas, with a white face and panting breath, stood clinging to herfather's arm, as though she would never let it go. He soothed hertenderly, striving to pacify her terrors, but it was plain that shehad been through some hours of terrible fear.
"My little bird, didst thou think we should leave thee to perishhere?" asked the father, half playfully, half reproachfully; "andif so affrighted, why didst thou not fly home to thy nest? That, atleast, would have been easy."
"Ah, but I could not leave my lady when all besides had fled--eventhe two old creatures who were never afraid of remaining when thedistemper was raging all around. She stands at the window watchingthe flames devouring all else opposite, and it is hot enough therewell nigh to singe the hair on her head; but she laughs andchuckles the while, and says the most horrible things. I cannotbear to go anigh her; and yet I cannot leave her alone.
"O father, father! come and get her away. She seems like one madewithout the power of fear. The more that others are affrighted, themore she seems to rejoice!"
Dorcas and her father and brother were in the narrow entry uponwhich the back door of the house opened. This alley led right downto the river, where the boat was moored under the charge of the twoshopmen. It would be easy to carry down any valuables and load itup, and then transport the intrepid old woman, when she had lookedher fill, and when she saw her own safety threatened.
For it began to be evident that the flames would quickly overleapthe gap presented by Thames Street. They were gathering sofearfully in power that great flakes of fire detached themselvesfrom the burning buildings and leaped upon other places to rightand left, as though endowed with the power of volition.
The fire was even spreading eastward in spite of the strong eastwind--not, of course, with anything like the rapidity with which itmade its way westward, but in a fashion which plainly showed howfirm a hold it had upon the doomed houses.
There was no time to lose if Lady Scrope and her valuables were tobe saved. The house seemed full of smoke as they entered it; andDorcas led them up the stairs into the parlour, at the window ofwhich her mistress was standing, leaning upon her stick, anduttering a succession of short, sharp exclamations, intermingledwith the cackling laugh of old age.
"Ha! that is a good one! Some roof fell in then! See the sparksrushing up like waters from a fountain! I would not have missedthat! Pity it is daylight; 'twould have been twice as fine atnight! Good! good! good! yes run, my man, run, or the flames willcatch you. Ha! they gave him a lick, and he has dropped his bundleand fled for his very life. Ha! ha! ha! it is as good as the bestplay I ever saw in my life! Here comes another. Oh, he has so ladenhimself that he can scarcely run. There! he is down; he strugglesto rise, but his pack holds him to the ground. O my good fool! youwill find that your goods cost you dear today. You should have readyour Bible to better purpose. Ah! there is some good-natured foolhelping him up and along. It is more than he deserves. I shouldhave liked to see what he did when the next wave of fire ran up thestreet.
"Dorcas, child, where art thou? Thou art losing the finest sight ofthy life! If thou hast courage to stay with me, why hast thou notcourage to enjoy such a sight as thou wilt not see twice in alifetime?"
"Madam! madam!" cried the girl running forward, "here are my fatherand brother, come to help to save your goods and escape by theback. They have brought the boat to Cold Harbour, where it ismoored; and, if it please you, they will conduct you to it, andcome back and fetch such goods as you would most wish saved."
But the old woman did not even turn her head. She was eagerlyscanning the street without, along which sheets of flame seemed tobe driven.
"Great powers, what a noise! Methinks some church tower hascollapsed. St. Lawrence, Poultney, belike. St. Mary's, Bush Lane,will be the next. Would I were there to see. I will to the roof ofthe house to obtain a better view. Zounds, but this is worth ahundred plagues! I had never thought to live to see London burnedabout my ears. What a noise the fire makes! It is like the rushingof a mighty flood. Oh, a flood of fire is a fine thing!"
The weird old woman looked like a spirit of the devouring element,as she stood at her window talking aloud in her strange excitementand enjoyment of the awful destruction about her. The heat withinthe room was becoming intolerable, yet she did not appear to feelit. The house being well built, with thick walls and well-fittingwindows, resisted the entrance of the great volumes of smoke thatroiled along laden with sparks and burning fragments of wood; butthese fiery heralds were becoming so menacing and continuous, thatthe Harmers saw plainly how little time was to be lost if theywould save either the old woman or her valuables.
"Madam," said James Harmer approaching, and forcing his presenceupon the notice of the mistress of the house, "there is little timeto lose if you would save yourself or your goods. We have come togive such assistance as lies in our power. Will you give me yourauthority to bear away hence all such things as may be most readilytransported and are of most value? When we have saved these, belikeyou will have looked your fill on the fire. And, at least, you cansee it as well from any other place in the neighbourhood withoutthis risk. May we commence our task of rescue?"
"Oh yes, my good fellow, take what you will. Dorcas will show youwhat is of greatest value. Lade yourselves with spoil, and makeyourselves rich for life. I drove forth the hired varlets who wouldfain have robbed me ere they left; but take what you will, and myblessing with it. Your daughter deserves a dowry at my hands. Takeall you can lay hands upon; I shall want it no more. Ha! I must tothe roof! I must to the roof! Why, if it only lasts till nightfall,what a sight it will be! Right glad am I that I have lived to seethis day."
Without particularly heeding the words of the strange old woman,father and son, directed by Dorcas, set about rapidly to collectand transport to the boat the large quantities of silver plate andother valuables which, during her long life, Lady Scrope hadcollected about her. The rich furniture had, perforce, to be leftbehind, save a small piece here and there of exceptional value; butthere were jewels, and golden trinkets, and strangely-carvedivories set with gems, and all manner of costly trophies from thedistant lands whither vessels now went and returned laden with allmanner of wonders. The Harmers were amazed at the vast amount oftreasure hoarded up in that small house, and wondered that LadyScrope had not many times had her life attempted by the servants,who must have known something of the contents of cabinet and chest.
But her reputation as a witch had been a great safeguard, and herown intrepid spirit had done even more to hold robbers at bay. Allwho knew her were fully aware that she was quite capable ofshooting down any person found in the act of robbing her, and thatshe always kept loaded pistols in her room in readiness. There wasa story whispered about, of her having locked up in one of herrooms a servant whom she had caught pilfering, and it was said thatshe had starved him to death amid the plunder he had gathered, andhad afterwards had his body flung without burial into the river.Whether there was more than rumour in such a gruesome tale nonecould now say, but it had long become an acknowledged axiom thatLady Scrope's goods had better be let alone.
Twice had the boat been laden and returned, for all concernedworked with a will, and now all had been removed from the housewhich it was possible to take on such short notice and in such afashion. The fire was surging furiously across the road, and inmore than one place it had leaped the street, and the other side,the south side, was now burning as fiercely as the northern. Dorcashad been dispatched to call down Lady Scrope, for her fatherreckoned that in ten minutes more the house would be actuallyengulfed in the oncoming mass of flames. And now the girl hurriedup to them, her face blanched with terror.
"She will not come, fathe
r; she will not come. She laughs to scornall that I say. She stands upon the parapet of the roof, tossingher arms, and crying aloud as she sees building after buildingcatch fire, and the great billows of flame rolling along. Oh, it isterrible to see and to hear her! Methinks she has gone distraught.Prithee, go fetch her down by force, dear father, for I trow thatnaught else will suffice."
Father and son looked at each other in consternation. They had notseriously contemplated the possibility of finding the old womanobstinate to the last. But yet, now that Dorcas spoke, it seemed tothem quite in keeping with what they had heard of her, that sheshould decline to leave even in the face of dire peril.
"Run to the boat, child!" cried the father. "Let us know that thouart safe on board, and leave thy mistress to us. If she come notpeaceably, we must needs carry her down.
"Come, Reuben, we must not tarry within these walls more than fiveminutes longer. The fire is approaching on all sides. I fear me,both the Allhallowes will be victims next."
Springing up the staircase, now thick with smoke, father and sonemerged at last upon a little leaden platform, and saw at a shortdistance from them the old woman whom they sought, tossing her armswildly up and down, and bursting into awful laughter when anythingmore terrible than usual made itself apparent.
They could not get quite up to her without actually crawling alongan unguarded ridge of masonry, as she must have done to attain herpresent position; but they approached as near as was possible, andcalled to her urgently:
"Madam, we have saved your goods as far as it was possible; now wecome to save you. Lose not a moment in escaping from the house. Ina few more minutes escape will be impossible."
She turned and faced them then, dropping her mocking and excitedmanner, and speaking quite calmly and quietly.
"Good fellow, who told you that I should leave my house? I have nointention whatever of doing any such thing. What should I do in astrange place with strange surroundings? Here I have lived, andhere I will die. You are an honest man, and you have an honestwench for your daughter. Keep all you have saved, and give her amarriage portion when she is fool enough to marry. As for me, Ishall want it no more."
"But, madam, it is idle speaking thus!" cried Reuben, with theimpetuosity of youth. "You must leave your house on the instant--"
"So they told me in the time of the plague," returned Lady Scrope,with a little, disdainful smile; "but I told them I should neverdie in my bed."
"Madam, we cannot leave you here to perish in the flames," criedthe youth, with some heat and excitement of manner. "I would thatyou would come quietly with us, but if not I must needs--" and herehe began to suit the action to the words, and to make as though hewould creep along the ledge and gain the old woman's vantageground, as, indeed, was his intention.
But he had hardly commenced this perilous transit before he felthimself pulled back by his father, who said, in a strange, muffledvoice:
"It is useless, Reuben; we can do nothing. We must leave her to herfate. Either she is truly a witch, as men say, or else her brain isturned by the fearsome sight."
And Reuben, following his father's glance, saw that the redoubtableLady Scrope had drawn forth a pistol from pocket or girdle, and waspointing it full at him, with a light in her eyes which plainlybetokened her intention of using it if he dared to thwart herbeyond a certain point.
When she saw the action of James Harmer, she smiled a sardonicsmile.
"Farewell, gentlemen," she said, with a wave of her hand. "I thankyou for your good offices, and for your kindly thought for me. Butno man has ever yet moved me from my purpose, and no man has laidhands on me against my will--nor ever shall. Go! farewell! Saveyourselves, and take my blessing and good wishes with you; but Imove not an inch from where I stand. I defy the fire, as I defiedthe plague!"
It was useless to remain. Words were thrown away, and to attemptforce would but bring certain death upon whoever attempted it. Thefire was already almost upon them. Father and son, after onedespairing look at each other, darted down the stairs again, andhad but just time to make their escape ere a great wave of flamecame rolling along overhead, and the house itself was wrapped inthe fiery mantle.
Dorcas, waiting with the men in the boat, devoured them with hereyes as they appeared, and uttered a little cry of horror andamazement when she saw them appear, choked and blackened, butalone.
"She would not come! she would not come! Oh, I feared it from thefirst; but it seemed so impossible! Oh, how could she stay therealone in that sea of fire! O my mistress! my mistress! my poormistress! She was always kind to me."
Neither father nor brother spoke as they got into the boat andpushed off into the glowing river. It was terrible to think of thatintrepid old woman facing her self-chosen and fiery doom alone upthere upon the roof of that blazing house.
"She must have been mad!" sobbed Dorcas; and her father answeredwith grave solemnity:
"Methinks that self-will, never checked, never guided, breeds inthe mind a sort of madness. Let us not judge her. God is the Judge.By this time, methinks, she will have passed from time toeternity."
Dorcas shuddered and hid her face. She could not grasp the thoughtthat her redoubtable mistress was no more; but the weird sight ofthe fire, as seen from the river, drew her thoughts even from thecontemplation of the tragedy just enacted. The great pall of smokeseemed extending to a fearful distance, and the girl turned with asudden terror to her father.
"Father, will our house be burned?"
"I trust not, my child, I trust not. It is of great moment that thebridge should be saved, not for its own sake only, but to keep theflames from spreading southward, as they might if they crossed thatfrail passage. We have done what we could; and we cannot besurrounded as are other houses. The fire can advance but by oneroad upon us. I trust the action we have taken will suffice to saveus and others. I would fain be at home to see how matters are goingthere. I fear me that the pillar of fire over yonder is the blazingtower of St. Magnus. If so, the fire is fearfully near the head ofthe bridge. God help the poor families who would not consent to thedemolition of their houses for the common weal! I fear me now theyare in danger of losing both houses and goods!"
It was even so, as the Harmers found on reaching their own abode,which they did by putting across the river to the Southwark side,to avoid the peril from the burning fragments which were flying allabout the north bank of the river.
The flames, having once leaped Thames Street, were devouring thehouses on the southern side of the street with an astonishingrapidity; and the river was crowded with wherries, to which theaffrighted people brought such goods as they could hastily layhands upon in the terror and confusion. St. Magnus was now burningfuriously, and great flakes of fire were falling pitilessly uponthe houses at the northern end of the bridge. Even as the Harmerscame hurrying up, a shout of fear told them that one of these hadignited, and the next minute there was no mistaking it. The houseson both sides of the northern end of the bridge were in flames; andthe people who had somehow trusted that the bridge would, onaccount of its more isolated position, escape, were rushingterrified out of their doors, or were flinging their goods out ofthe windows with a recklessness that caused many of them to bebroken to fragments as they reached the ground, whilst others wereseized and carried off by the thieves and vagabonds who cameswarming out of the dens of the low-lying parts of the city, eagerto turn the public calamity into an occasion of private gain, andlost no opportunity of appropriating in the general confusionanything upon which they could lay their hands.
"Pray Heaven the means we have taken may be blessed to the city!"cried James Harmer, as he hurried along.
He found his men hard at work pumping water and drenching the ruinswith it; for, as they said, the great heat dried up the moisturewith inconceivable rapidity, and if once these ruins fired, nothingshort of a miracle could save the remainder of the houses. Otherstout fellows were upon the roofs with their buckets, emptying themas fast as they were filled upon the roofs and wa
lls, so that whenburning fragments and showers of sparks or even a leaping billow offlame smote upon them, it hissed like a live thing repulsed, anddied away in smoke and blackness.
It was the same when the flames reached the gap which had been madein the buildings by the Master Builder. The angry fire leapt againand again upon the drenched ruins, but each time fell back hissingand throwing off clouds of steam.
For above two long hours that seemed like days the hand-to-handfight continued, resolute and determined men casting waterceaselessly upon the ruins and the roofs and walls of the adjoininghouses, the fire on the other side of the gap blazing furiously,and seeking to overstep it whenever a puff of wind gave it theright impetus. Had the wind shifted a point to the south, possiblynothing could have saved the bridge; but the general direction wasnortheast, and it was only an occasional eddy that brought a rushof flames to the southward. But there was great peril from theintense heat generated by the huge body of burning buildings closeat hand, and from the flying splinters and clouds of sparks.
Fearlessly and courageously as the workers toiled on, there weremoments when their hearts almost failed them, when it seemed asthough nothing could stop the oncoming tyrant, which appeared morelike a living monster than a mere inanimate agency. But as thedaylight waned, it began to be evident that victory would be withthe devoted workers. Although the ever-increasing light in the skytold them that in other directions the fire was spreading withtireless fury, in the neighbourhood of the bridge and the placeswhere it had broken out it had almost wreaked its fury.
It had burned houses, and shops, and churches to the very ground.The lambent flames still played about the heaps of burning ruins,but the fury of the conflagration had abated through lack ofmaterial upon which to feed itself. Victory remained finally withthose who had worked so well to keep the foe in check, and keep insafety the southern portion of the city. The Master Builder'sscheme had been attended with marked success. The demolishedbuildings had arrested the progress of the flames, although notwithout severe labour on the part of those concerned.
When the Harmer family met together to eat and drink after thetoils of the day, so wearied out that even the knowledge that theterrible fire was still devouring all before it in other quarterscould not keep them from their beds that night, the master of thehouse said to his friend the Master Builder:
"Truly, if other means fail, we had better set about blowing upwhole streets of houses in the path of the flames. We will to theLord Mayor at daybreak, and tell him how the bridge has been saved.The people may lament at the destruction of their houses, but surethat is better than that all the city should be ravaged by fire!"
Busy indeed were the women of both those abodes upon that memorablenight. From basement to attic their houses were crowded withneighbours who had been burned out, and who must either pass thenight in the open air or else seek shelter from friends morefortunate than themselves.
The men, for the most part, were abroad in the streets, drawnthither by the excitement of the great fire, and by the hope ofhelping to save other persons and goods. But the women and childrencrowded together in helpless dismay, watching from the windows theincreasing glow in the sky as the sun sank and night came on, andmingling tears of terror for others with their own lamentationsover the loss of houses and goods.
Good Rachel Harmer and her daughters and daughter-in-law movedamongst the poor creatures like ministering angels. The childrenwere fed and put to bed by twos and threes together. The motherswere bidden to table in relays, and everything was done to cheerand sustain them. Good James Harmer thought not of his own goodswhen his neighbours were in dire need, and neither he nor his songrudged the hospitality which was willingly accorded to all whoasked it, even though the houses would not stretch themselves outfor the accommodation of more than a certain number.
But as in times of trouble men draw very near together, so themisfortune of the citizens of London opened the hearts of theirneighbours of Southwark and the surrounding villages, whothemselves were now safe and in no danger from the great fire.Hospitable countrymen came with wagons and took away homelesscreatures with their few poor goods, to be entertained for a whileby their own wives and daughters. Others who had to encamp in theopen fields were supplied with food by the surrounding inhabitants;and although there were much sorrow of heart and distress, thekindness shown to the burned out families did much to assuage theirwoes.
James Harmer, who had done much to see to the safe housing ofmultitudes of women and children, came home at last, and gatheringhis household about him, gave thanks for their timely preservationin another great peril; and then he dismissed them to their beds,bidding them sleep, for that none knew what the morrow might bringforth. And they went to such couches as they could find forthemselves, ready to do his behest; and though London was inflames, and the house almost as light as day, there were few thatdid not sleep soundly on the night which followed that strangeeventful Sunday.