fice (I intending to go out, as I used, every now and then to-day, to
see how the fire is) to call our men to Bishop's-gate, where no fire
had yet been near, and there is now one broke out which did give great
grounds to people, and to me too, to think that there is some kind of
plot

[The terrible disaster which overtook London was borne by the
inhabitants of the city with great fortitude, but foreigners and
Roman Catholics had a bad dime. As no cause for the outbreak of the
fire could be traced, a general cry was raised that it owed its
origin to a plot. In a letter from Thomas Waade to Williamson
(dated "Whitby, Sept. 14th") we read, "The destruction of London by
fire is reported to be a hellish contrivance of the French,
Hollanders, and fanatic party" ("Calendar of State Papers," 1666-67,
p. 124).]

in this (on which many by this time have been taken, and, it hath been
dangerous for any stranger to walk in the streets), but I went with
the men, and we did put it out in a little time; so that that was well
again. It was pretty to see how hard the women did work in the cannells,
sweeping of water; but then they would scold for drink, and be as drunk
as devils. I saw good butts of sugar broke open in the street, and
people go and take handsfull out, and put into beer, and drink it. And
now all being pretty well, I took boat, and over to Southwarke, and took
boat on the other side the bridge, and so to Westminster, thinking to
shift myself, being all in dirt from top to bottom; but could not there
find any place to buy a shirt or pair of gloves, Westminster Hall being
full of people's goods, those in Westminster having removed all their
goods, and the Exchequer money put into vessels to carry to Nonsuch;
but to the Swan, and there was trimmed; and then to White Hall, but saw
nobody; and so home. A sad sight to see how the River looks: no houses
nor church near it, to the Temple, where it stopped. At home, did go
with Sir W. Batten, and our neighbour, Knightly (who, with one more, was
the only man of any fashion left in all the neighbourhood thereabouts,
they all removing their goods and leaving their houses to the mercy of
the fire), to Sir R. Ford's, and there dined in an earthen platter--a
fried breast of mutton; a great many of us, but very merry, and indeed
as good a meal, though as ugly a one, as ever I had in my life. Thence
down to Deptford, and there with great sat