Unlike a few minutes earlier, there were now lots of people hurrying by, fleeing from the flames. But when I called to them for help they just ignored me and carried on their way.
“Your door’s blocked. Can you climb out of the window?” I finally called
“I don’t know… perhaps, if you help me.”
It’s amazing how quickly people can get used to horrible situations. If you’d told me a few days earlier that I’d be standing in a street where fires burned fiercely and that, instead of running away, I’d be trying to help somebody escape from their house, I’d have thought you were mad. And yet, here I was, my skin scorched by the heat of the flames, trying to think how I could get into a house that was about to catch fire!
Then I thought of my mother. I couldn’t protect her from the plague, but perhaps if I could help this person that would in some way make up for not saving the woman who’d brought me into the world and loved me and looked after me for the first twelve years of my life.
I could only hope. My mother was gone, and wherever she was I had no way of knowing if she knew what I was doing. In the end, all I could do was shrug to myself and get on with it. I couldn’t let somebody die in a fire if I could do something about it. With that thought, I ran to the window, smashed it open with a fallen roof tile and quickly climbed in.
Inside it was dark and so full of smoke I couldn’t see a thing. “Where are you, can you make your way towards me?”
For a moment nothing happened, but then I saw a shadow moving towards me. I hurried forward and grabbed the hand that I could now was grasping blindly at the air.
“This way,” I said. “Let’s get out before we’re baked alive!”
“You’ll have to help me, I don’t think I can climb very easily.”
The voice was quiet and cracked. Peering through the smoky gloom, I suddenly realized that it was a very old lady. She was bent almost double with age and, when I could make out her face, I saw she looked like a witch from a storybook.
For a moment I almost ran and left her there. The strange unreal atmosphere that the huge fire had brought into the city made anything seem possible, and finding a witch living in an alleyway near Lombard Street didn’t seem anywhere near as unlikely as the country’s biggest city going up in flames!
I was so scared I began to shake, but suddenly the old lady looked at me with eyes that were so blue they reminded me of forget-me-nots. They had been my mother’s favourite flower, and the thought of her calmed me down a little.
“You’re a good boy helping old Mother Bellows,” the old lady said. “I’ve watched many a strong man hurry on by, but it took a youngster like you to stop and save me.”
“We’re not safe yet, Mother Bellows,” I said at last, coming to my senses. “We’ve got to get you out of here.”
Peering through the smoky gloom I saw that there were lots of pieces of furniture lying about. I grabbed what I could and piled them up against the window until I’d made a sort of staircase the old lady could climb.
I don’t know how long it took to get up onto the windowsill, but by the time I was able to climb down into the street and then help Mother Bellows down too, the room behind us had started to catch fire.
“I think we need to move out into the middle of the street, if we can,” I said as, with a sudden whoosh, the house set ablaze and the window where we’d been standing only moments before was now filled with flames.
We moved with the speed of a tortoise, and when we were far enough away from the blazing house, the old lady turned back to look at it.
“I was born there when the old king’s father was still on the throne,” she said sadly. “And now it’s gone.”
“You mean in the time of James I?” I asked, amazed that anyone could’ve lived that long.
“That’s right, but all things come to an end.”
“All things but this fire, it seems,” I said, watching as the entire row of houses in front of us added more fuel to the flames.
“Oh it’ll end too, don’t you worry about that,” said Mother Bellows. “But I wonder if there’ll be anything left of London by the time it does.”
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We slowly made our way down to the River Thames while people rushed by us, pushing handcarts piled high with their belongings and with sacks slung over their backs. Nobody stopped to ask an old lady and young boy if they needed help. It was almost as though we were invisible. The heat from the blaze billowed over and around us in great gusts, and sparks flew through the air like fiery rain, but I felt strangely calm walking quietly with Mother Bellows.
“What are you doing here in the middle of the fire?” the old lady suddenly asked, and it took me a moment or two to remember that I’d been looking for Pip.
“My dog ran away,” I answered. “I was trying to find him, but I don’t think I will now.”
“Oh, you will… or at least he’ll find you. He’s not hurt, just frightened.”
I looked at the tiny lady who stood only as high as my shoulder. “How can you know that?”
She gazed at me calmly and I could see the fire dancing in her blue eyes. “I know,” she replied and smiled sweetly.
But before I could ask anything more, a voice interrupted the strange thoughts that were chasing each other around my head.
“Granny! Granny, you’re safe! Oh thank goodness.”
I looked up to see a girl about my age running up the street towards us, closely followed by a man I thought must be her father.
Mother Bellows smiled as the girl flung herself at her. “We would’ve been here earlier, but we couldn’t get a boat no matter how hard we tried. They’ve all been hired or won’t risk coming in close to the fire!”
“Well, not to worry, I’m safe now, Tilly. Tom here helped me to get out of the house.”
“And how is the house, Mother-in-law?” the man asked.
“Gone the way all things that live in this world will go, Jon, to ashes and dust.”
Just then I finally noticed that they were all dressed in black clothes with white lace collars. Mother Bellows and the girl, Tilly, both had white linen bonnets that fitted their heads closely, while the man wore a broad-brimmed black hat. They were Puritans!
I’d always been told that Puritans were hard, unfriendly people who spent all their time praying to God, with no time for anything else. But Mother Bellows was a gentle and kindly soul and Tilly seemed very friendly. Even her father, Jon, had nodded to me respectfully when he heard how I’d rescued his mother-in-law.
“Well, we must away, before we’re roasted like a chicken or smoked like a kipper by this fire,” Jon said. “Will you come with us to find safety, young Tom?”
“Tom has his dog to find, and a lot yet to learn before he returns to his own home,” said Mother Bellows.
I smiled and shyly took her hand as I said goodbye. “And don’t you worry about Pip,” the old lady went on. “He’s not meant to die in the flames, but in a good few years from now in the warm arms of a young man who’ll miss him when he’s finally gone.”
And with that the little family of Puritans all waved and moved off down to the Thames. When they were out of sight I felt something draw me to Fleet Street, where Master Pepys and I had been only two days before.
“Pip’s out there somewhere, and if Mother Bellows is right, I’ll find him.” It was as I said the dog’s name that I realized I’d never told the old lady what he was called, and yet she’d called him ‘Pip’ when she told me he’d be safe from the fire. How could she have known?
I turned and peered through the banks of black smoke to see if I could see Mother Bellows, but she was gone.
CHAPTER 7
I ran on down to Fleet Street, trying to make up for lost time. How I thought I could possibly find one little black and white dog in all of that chaos of heat and flames and horrible noise I don’t know, but something drove me on. I did see dogs of all shapes and sizes, but none of them were Pip. Some
were with their owners tied to carts, or hurrying along on leads, but others were alone and running in terror through the fire. I wished I could have helped them, but there was nothing I could have done.
As I made my way east along the main road, I suddenly saw the huge shape of Saint Paul’s Cathedral rising up out of the flames. Its solid stone walls shimmered in the heat haze as though they were made of nothing but water.
I remembered that when I’d been there earlier with Master Pepys the houses to the north and east of the massive church were still safe from the flames, and this seemed as good a reason as any to go that way. Surely Pip would run away from the flames and go towards a place of safety.
I continued along Fleet Street, dodging the carts and crowds of people hurrying down to the Thames, where they obviously hoped to get a boat to take them away to safety. I kept sight of the cathedral on my right and eventually risked turning off the main way and plunging into the narrower streets that led north. Here the fire was fierce, and twice I was driven back by heat and smoke before I found a street that was completely untouched by the flames. In disbelief I walked along between houses that looked as normal as the dirty and narrow streets of London could look. There was even a cat sitting on one of the steps, calmly watching the billowing clouds of smoke as they rolled over the sky.
At last the streets began to open out and I arrived at the wide area that surrounded the cathedral. I couldn’t believe my eyes! Everything was now in uproar. When I’d been there earlier with Master Pepys, the building had been covered in scaffolding as workmen carried out repairs to the roof. But now, my God, the whole thing was on fire – it roared and raged in horribly bright and brilliant colours of red and orange set against the smoky black of the sky.
The entire roof was alight – nothing but searing light and terrible scorching heat. I stood with my mouth hanging open and watched as molten lead poured from the roof in a constant stream, like a boiling waterfall. It was so hot it flowed over the ground like silver water and set light to anything that would burn as soon as it touched.
I backed away to a piece of rising ground so the boiling lead couldn’t reach me, but then a loud CRACK exploded into the air, and pieces of stone shot around me. CRACK! Another sharp explosion, like a musket being fired, and again, jagged pieces of stone flew around the open area in front of the cathedral. CRACK! This time I saw what was happening; the stones of the cathedral’s walls were exploding in the huge heat, peppering the area around with deadly pieces of flying stone, like bullets from a gun.
As I watched, a group of people hurried by pushing a handcart, and just as they were about to dive down into one of the streets that led to the river, another sharp explosion sounded and the man pushing the cart fell with a scream. The rest of the group gathered around and, almost without hesitating, they lifted him onto the cart and hurried on, getting as far away from the cathedral as they could.
This was obviously the best thing to do. Staring through the heat haze and billowing smoke, I could see that Ludgate Hill and part of Cheapside were ablaze, the very areas that I hoped Pip would go to be safe from the fire! So I quickly turned around and hurried away, putting as much distance between me and the boiling lead and exploding stones of the cathedral as I could. I could only hope that Pip had done exactly the same and was safe somewhere.
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I don’t know how long I ran through the burning streets of the city. The sky was dark with clouds of smoke, so I couldn’t guess the time and any church bells that still rang the hours had either been burnt down or their chimes were lost in the deafening roar of the fire. I could see no landmarks to guide me and I soon lost my way. One burning street looks much the same as another.
As I ran, I coughed and spluttered in the smoke. My hands were black with soot and I guessed that my face would be in the same state. My clothes were scorched too and peppered with small black holes where sparks had hit me and burned through the cloth. Some of these sparks had reached my skin and I could feel tiny burns all over my back, shoulders, arms and legs.
I knew I couldn’t go on for much longer; my chest ached from the smoke and fumes and I could hardly breathe. I had to get out of the fire and find a safe place to rest. Eventually I was forced to slow down by sheer exhaustion until I was barely shuffling forwards, pushed along by the crowds of people who were still cramming the streets as they ran from the fire. Despite feeling totally worn out, I forced myself to keep looking, to keep searching for any sign of Pip. Where was he? Why couldn’t I find him? But really I knew it was impossible. I suppose I secretly knew it always had been. How could I have hoped to find one little runaway dog in this huge city? Especially when the city was engulfed in flames?
The fire was closing in on everyone and everything. It would kill all living things in its path. What chance did any of us have against the fury of the flames?
I had no idea which direction I was heading in, but eventually I began to make out some high stone walls rising above the flames. At first I thought I’d gone round in circles and had somehow made my way back to the cathedral, but then I realized it was the Tower of London! I was closer to home than I had dared hope. If I could see the stone walls I must be at the very beginning of Tower Street, so all I had to do was head north and I’d soon reach Seething Lane where Master Pepys’ house stood.
I knew that the house would be empty by now because when I’d run off in search of Pip, the servants had been packing everything up as they prepared to flee from the flames. I had no idea where they were going, either, because I hadn’t been told in all the chaos or perhaps I’d forgotten. Maybe the fire had reached Seething Lane and the house would just be a smoking ruin. But I had to go and find out – it was the only link I had with the people who were the closest I had to a family. If it was gone then I really would have nothing in all the world. No home, no friends and, worst of all, no Pip! But I couldn’t just give up and turn away. Maybe someone would come back to see if the building had survived the fire and I could ask where everyone had gone.
As soon as I could, I turned north and began to climb up the hill that led down towards the Thames and up towards the City Wall and Aldgate. And very quickly I found myself stepping out of the burning streets and into an area that was untouched by the flames. I was amazed; I’d almost begun to expect to see blazing houses and billows of smoke, as if a city on fire was the way things normally were. Of course there was still the stink of smoke and the loud roar of the inferno, but in every other way these houses seemed safe and sound. Most of them were boarded up because the owners had fled in the belief that the fire would soon reach them. But some were still occupied. As I walked by one of the larger houses, I saw a maid cleaning the smoky grime from the windows as though it was just another working day. My eyes filled with tears when I realized that normal things still happened, but I quickly blinked them away and told myself not to be stupid.
There were still plenty of people crowding the streets even here, but I soon realized that rather than going south to the Thames, they must be heading north, perhaps to Bishops Gate and beyond that to where there was open ground at Moorfields. There were no houses or other buildings there, so the fire couldn’t reach them.
I carried on walking, my earlier exhaustion forgotten as I got closer to home. I made my way along a slowly curving street until I came to the foot of Seething Lane, where Master Pepys’ house stood. I paused for a moment. With relief I saw that the fire had left the street completely untouched, but I then remembered that no one would be at home. Even so, as I’d thought earlier, perhaps people would come back at regular intervals to check that all was well, and they’d find me.
But as I walked up the lane, I began to wonder if I was still Master Pepys’ pageboy at all. After all, I’d abandoned him and run off at a time when I was needed to help pack up the house and take everything to safety. Perhaps I’d been sacked and was now just another boy living on the streets of London. Even if my master did come back, would he
just be angry and send me away?
My steps slowed as I thought this through, but as I had nowhere else to go I eventually picked up my pace again and hurried on. Perhaps Master Pepys would forgive me and let me work in the kitchens again, even if he didn’t want me as a pageboy anymore.
Then at long last I saw the house. It stood as it always had in a small plot of land with a low wall around it. To the side was the tiny orchard with three apple and two pear trees where I used to take Pip first thing in the morning. I was overcome with sadness as I remembered my little black and white dog and wondered where he was and if he was still alive. Then I recalled what old Mother Bellows had said about him being safe and I decided to cheer up. But not for long. As I ran my eyes over the house I noticed that all of the windows had their shutters firmly closed and the great double front door was also shut and looked as solid and as unmoveable as stone.
Even the gates to the garden were padlocked, but it was easy to scramble over the wall and into the orchard. I found my way to the biggest apple tree and sat down staring at the house. My eyes were really heavy and I suddenly realized that I didn’t know exactly how long I’d been in the fire searching for Pip. It could have been a few hours or it could have been more than a day. Above the blazing houses the sky was black with smoke and so it was impossible to know if the day had ended and a new one had begun. I could’ve been awake for more than a day and a night!
I lay back against the trunk of the tree and closed my eyes. I don’t know how long I slept, but I woke up just as I was dreaming that someone was wiping the soot off my face with a wet cloth. In fact the dream was so real that even as I opened my eyes I could still feel the wet cloth scrubbing at my cheek.
I put my hands up to my wet face and felt something solid that whined and then gave a little yap.