as well as at Marke-lane end as ours; it having only burned the
dyall of Barking Church, and part of the porch, and was there quenched.
I up to the top of Barking steeple, and there saw the saddest sight of
desolation that I ever saw; every where great fires, oyle-cellars, and
brimstone, and other things burning. I became afeard to stay there long,
and therefore down again as fast as I could, the fire being spread as
far as I could see it; and to Sir W. Pen's, and there eat a piece
of cold meat, having eaten nothing since Sunday, but the remains of
Sunday's dinner. Here I met with Mr. Young and Whistler; and having
removed all my things, and received good hopes that the fire at our end;
is stopped, they and I walked into the town, and find Fanchurch-streete,
Gracious-streete; and Lumbard-streete all in dust. The Exchange a sad
sight, nothing standing there, of all the statues or pillars, but Sir
Thomas Gresham's picture in the corner. Walked into Moorefields (our
feet ready to burn, walking through the towne among the hot coles), and
find that full of people, and poor wretches carrying their good there,
and every body keeping his goods together by themselves (and a great
blessing it is to them that it is fair weathe for them to keep abroad
night and day); drank there, and paid two-pence for a plain penny loaf.
Thence homeward, having passed through Cheapside and Newgate Market,
all burned, and seen Anthony Joyce's House in fire. And took up (which I
keep by me) a piece of glasse of Mercers' Chappell in the streete, where
much more was, so melted and buckled with the heat of the fire like
parchment. I also did see a poor cat taken out of a hole in the chimney,
joyning to the wall of the Exchange; with, the hair all burned off the
body, and yet alive. So home at night, and find there good hopes of
saving our office; but great endeavours of watching all night, and
having men ready; and so we lodged them in the office, and had drink and
bread and cheese for them. And I lay down and slept a good night about
midnight, though when I rose I heard that there had been a great alarme
of French and Dutch being risen, which proved, nothing. But it is a
strange thing to see how long this time did look since Sunday, having
been always full of variety of actions, and little sleep, that it looked
like a week or more, and I had forgot, almost the day of the week.

6th. Up about five o'clock, and where met Mr. Gawden at the gate of the
of