Old Saint Paul's: A Tale of the Plague and the Fire by William Harrison Ainsworth (recommended books to read .TXT) π
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- Author: William Harrison Ainsworth
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The great architect bowed. "I cannot hope to erect such another structure," he said, modestly; "but I will endeavour to design an edifice that shall not disgrace your majesty's city."
"You must build me another city at the same time, Doctor Wren," sighed the king. "Ah!" he added, "is not that Mr. Lilly, the almanac-maker, whom I see among the crowd?"
"It is," replied Rochester.
"Bid him come to me," replied the king. And the order being obeyed, he said to the astrologer, "Well, Mr. Lilly, your second prediction has come to pass. We have had the Plague, and now we have the Fire. You may thank my clemency that I do not order you to be cast into the flames, like the poor wretch who has just perished before our eyes, as a wizard and professor of the black art. How did you obtain information of these fatal events?"
"By a careful study of the heavenly bodies, sire," replied Lilly, "and by long and patient calculations, which, if your majesty or any of your attendants had had leisure or inclination to make, would have afforded you the same information. I make no pretence to the gift of prophecy, but this calamity was predicted in the last century."
"Indeed! by whom?" asked the king.
"By Michael Nostradamus," replied Lilly; "his prediction runs thus:β
'La sang du juste οΏ½ Londres fera faute, Bruslez par feu, le vingt et trois, les Six; La Dame antique cherra de place haute, De mοΏ½me secte plusieurs seront occis.'1
And thus I venture to explain it. The 'blood of the just' refers to the impious and execrable murder of your majesty's royal father of blessed memory. 'Three-and-twenty and six' gives the exact year of the calamity; and it may likewise give us, as will be seen by computation hereafter, the amount of habitations to be destroyed. The 'Ancient Dame' undoubtedly refers to the venerable pile now burning before us, which, as it stands in the most eminent spot in the city, clearly 'falls from its high place.' The expression 'of the same sect' refers not to men, but churches, of which a large number, I grieve to say it, are already destroyed."
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'The blood of the just shall be wanting in London, Burnt by fire of three-and-twenty, the Six; The ancient Dame shall fall from her high place, Of the same sect many shall be killed.']
"The prophecy is a singular one," remarked Charles, musingly "and you have given it a plausible interpretation." And for some moments he appeared lost in reflection. Suddenly rousing himself, he took forth his tablets, and hastily tracing a few lines upon a leaf, tore it out, and delivered it with his signet-ring to Lord Argentine. "Take this, my lord," he said, "to Lord Craven. You will find him at his post in Tower-street. A band of my attendants shall go with you. Embark at the nearest stairs you canβthose at Blackfriars I should conceive the most accessible. Bid the men row for their lives. As soon as you join Lord Craven, commence operations. The Tower must be preserved at all hazards. Mark me!βat all hazards."
"I understand your majesty," replied Argentineβ"your commands shall be implicitly obeyed. And if the conflagration has not gone too far, I will answer with my life that I preserve the fortress." And he departed on his mission.
IX. WHAT BEFEL CHOWLES AND JUDITH IN THE VAULTS OF SAINT FAITH'S.
Having now seen what occurred outside Saint Paul's, we shall proceed to the vaults beneath it. Chowles and Judith, it has been mentioned, were descried by Leonard, just before the outbreak of the fire, stealing into Saint Faith's, and carrying a heavy chest between them. This chest contained some of the altar-plate, which they had pillaged from the Convocation House. As they traversed the aisles of Saint Faith's, which were now filled with books and paper, they could distinctly hear the raging of the fire without, and Judith, who was far less intimidated than her companion, observed, "Let it roar on. It cannot injure us."
"I am not so sure of that," replied Chowles, doubtfully, "I wish we had taken our hoards elsewhere."
"There is no use in wishing that now," rejoined Judith. "And it would have been wholly impossible to get them out of the city. But have no fear. The fire, I tell you, cannot reach us. It could as soon burn into the solid earth as into this place."
"It comforts me to hear you say so," replied Chowles. "And when I think of those mighty stone floors above us, I feel we are quite safe. No, no, it can never make its way through them."
Thus discoursing, they reached the charnel at the further end of the church, where Chowles struck a light, and producing a flask of strong waters, took a copious draught himself and handed the flask to Judith, who imitated his example. Their courage being thus stimulated, they opened the chest, and Chowles was so enraptured with its glittering contents that he commenced capering round the vault. Recalled to quietude by a stern reproof from Judith, he opened a secret door in the wall, and pushed the chest into a narrow passage beyond it. Fearful of being discovered in their retreat, they took a basket of provisions and liquor with them, and then closed the door. For some time, they proceeded along the passage, pushing the chest before them, until they came to a descent of a few steps, which brought them to a large vault, half-filled with bags of gold, chests of plate, caskets, and other plunder. At the further end of this vault was a strong wooden door. Pushing the chest into the middle of the chamber, Chowles seated himself upon it, and opening the basket of provisions, took out the bottle of spirits, and again had recourse to it.
"How comfortable and secure we feel in this quiet place," he said; "while all above us is burning. I declare I feel quite merry, ha! ha!" And he forced a harsh and discordant laugh.
"Give me the bottle," rejoined Judith, sternly, "and don't grin like a death's head. I don't like to see the frightful face you make."
"It's the first time you ever thought my face frightful," replied Chowles, "and I begin to think you are afraid."
"Afraid!" echoed Judith, forcing a derisive laugh in her turn; "afraidβof what?"
"Nay, I don't know," replied Chowles; "only I feel a little uncomfortable. What if we should not be able to breathe here? The very idea gives me a tightness across the chest."
"Silence!" cried Judith, with a fierceness that effectually insured obedience to her command.
Chowles again had recourse to the bottle, and deriving a false courage from it, as before, commenced skipping about the chamber in his usual fantastical manner. Judith, did not attempt to check him, but remained
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