Kitabı oku: «Old Saint Paul's: A Tale of the Plague and the Fire», sayfa 36
IV.
LEONARD'S INTERVIEW WITH THE KING
Some rumours of the conflagration, as will be supposed, had ere this reached Mr. Bloundel, but he had no idea of the extent of the direful calamity, and when informed of it by Leonard, lifted up his hands despairingly, exclaiming, in accents of the deepest affliction—"Another judgment, then, has fallen upon this sinful city,—another judgment yet more terrible than the first. Man may have kindled this great fire, but the hand of God is apparent in it. 'Alas! alas! for thee, thou great city, Babylon! Alas for thee, thou mighty city! for in one hour is thy judgment come. The kings of the earth shall bewail thee, and lament for thee, when they see the smoke of thy burning.'"
"Your dwelling was spared in the last visitation, sir," observed Leonard, after a pause, "and you were able to shut yourself up, as in a strong castle, against the all-exterminating foe. But I fear you will not be able to ward off the assaults of the present enemy, and recommend you to remove your family and goods without delay to some place of security far from this doomed city."
"This is the Lord's Day, Leonard, and must be kept holy," replied the grocer. "To-morrow, if I am spared so long, I will endeavour to find some place of shelter."
"If the conflagration continues to spread as rapidly as it is now doing, to-morrow will be too late," rejoined Leonard.
"It may be so," returned the grocer, "but I will not violate the Sabbath. If the safety of my family is threatened, that is another matter, but I will not attempt to preserve my goods. Do not, however, let me influence you. Take such portion of our stock as belongs to you, and you know that a third of the whole is yours, and convey it where you please."
"On no account, sir," interrupted Leonard. "I should never think of acting in opposition to your wishes. This will be a sad Sunday for London."
"The saddest she has ever seen," replied the grocer; "for though the voice of prayer was silenced in her churches during the awful season of the plague, yet then men's minds had been gradually prepared for the calamity, and though filled with terror, they were not taken by surprise, as must now be the case. But let us to prayers, and may our earnest supplications avail in turning aside the Divine displeasure."
And summoning his family and household, all of whom were by this time stirring, and in the utmost consternation at what they had heard of the fire, he commenced a prayer adapted to the occasion in a strain of the utmost fervour; and as Leonard gazed at his austere countenance, now lighted up with holy zeal, and listened to his earnest intercessions in behalf of the devoted city, he was reminded of the prophet Jeremiah weeping for Jerusalem before the throne of grace.
Prayers over, the whole party sat down to their morning repast, after which, the grocer and his eldest son, accompanied by Leonard and Blaize, mounted to the roof of the house, and gazing in the direction of the conflagration, they could plainly distinguish the vast cloud of yellow smoke commingled with flame that marked the scene of its ravages. As the wind blew from this quarter, charged, as has been stated, with a cloud of sparks, many of the fire-drops were dashed in their faces, and compelled them to shade their eyes. The same awful roar which Leonard had heard on the river likewise broke upon their ears, while from all the adjoining streets arose a wild clamour of human voices, the burden of whose cries was "Fire! Fire!" The church bells, which should have been tolling to early devotion, were now loudly ringing the alarm, while their towers were crowded, as were the roofs of most of the houses, with persons gazing towards the scene of devastation. Nothing could be more opposite to the stillness and quiet of a Sabbath morn; and as the grocer listened to the noise and tumult prevailing around him, he could not repress a groan.
"I never thought my ears would be so much offended on this day," he said. "Let us go down. I have seen and heard enough."
They then descended, and Stephen Bloundel, who was greatly alarmed by what he had just witnessed, strongly urged his father to remove immediately. "There are seasons," said the young man, "when even our duty to Heaven becomes a secondary consideration; and I should be sorry if the fruit of your industry were sacrificed to your religious scruples."
"There are no such seasons," replied the grocer, severely; "and I am grieved that a son of mine should think so. If the inhabitants of this sinful city had not broken the Sabbath, and neglected God's commandments, this heavy judgment would not have fallen upon them. I shall neglect no precaution for the personal safety of my family, but I place my worldly goods in the hands of Him from whom I derived them, and to whom I am ready to restore them, whenever it shall please Him to take them."
"I am rebuked, father," replied Stephen, humbly; "and entreat your pardon for having ventured to differ with you. I am now fully sensible of the propriety of your conduct."
"And I have ever acquiesced in your wishes, be they what they may," said Mrs. Bloundel to her husband; "but I confess I am dreadfully frightened. I hope you will remove the first thing to-morrow."
"When midnight has struck, and the Sabbath is past, I shall commence my preparations," replied the grocer. "You must rest content till then." Mrs. Bloundel heaved a sigh, but said no more; and the grocer, retiring to a side-table, opened the Bible, and sat down calmly to its perusal. But though no further remonstrances reached his ears, there was great murmuring in the kitchen on the part of Blaize and Patience.
"Goodness knows what will become of us!" cried the latter. "I expect we shall all be burnt alive, owing to our master's obstinacy. What harm can there be in moving on a Sunday, I should like to know? I'm sure I'm too much hurried and flurried to say my prayers as I ought to do."
"And so am I," replied Blaize. "Mr. Bloundel is a great deal too particular. What a dreadful thing it would be if the house should be burnt down, and all my mother's savings, which were to form a provision for our marriage, lost."
"That would be terrible, indeed," cried Patience, with a look of dismay.
"I think the wedding had better take place as soon as the fire is over.
It can't last many days if it goes on at this rate."
"You are right," returned Blaize. "I have no objection. I'll speak to my mother at once." And stepping into the scullery, where old Josyna was washing some dishes, he addressed her—"Mother, I'm sadly afraid this great fire will reach us before our master will allow us to move. Hadn't you better let me take care of the money you intended giving me on my marriage with Patience?"
"No, no, myn goed zoon," replied Josyna, shaking her head—"I musd zee you married virsd."
"But I can't be married to-day," cried Blaize—"and there's no time to lose. The fire will be upon us directly."
"I cand help dat," returned his mother. "We musd place our drusd in God."
"There I quite agree with you, mother," replied Blaize; "but we must also take care of ourselves. If you won't give me the money, at least put it in a box to carry off at a moment's notice."
"Don't be afraid, myn zoon," replied Josyna. "I wond forged id."
"I'm sadly afraid you will, though," muttered Blaize, as he walked away. "There's no doing any good with her," he added to Patience. "She's as obstinate as Mr. Bloundel. I should like to see the fire of all things; but I suppose I musn't leave the house."
"Of course not," replied Patience, pettishly; "at such a time it would be highly improper. I forbid that."
"Then I must need submit," groaned Blaize—"I can't even have my own way before marriage."
When the proper time arrived, the grocer, accompanied by all his family and household, except old Josyna, who was left in charge of the house, repaired to the neighbouring church of Saint Alban's, but, finding the doors closed, and that no service was to be performed, he returned home with a sorrowful heart. Soon after this, Leonard took Mr. Bloundel apart, and observed to him, "I have a strong conviction that I could be useful in arresting the progress of the conflagration, and, as I cannot attend church service, I will, with your permission, devote myself to that object. It is my intention to proceed to Whitehall, and, if possible, obtain an audience of the king, and if I succeed in doing so, to lay a plan before him, which I think would prove efficacious."
"I will not ask what the plan is," rejoined the grocer, "because I doubt its success. Neither will I oppose your design, which is praiseworthy. Go, and may it prosper. Return in the evening, for I may need your assistance—perhaps protection."
Leonard then prepared to set forth. Blaize begged hard to accompany him, but was refused. Forcing his way through the host of carts, coaches, drays, and other vehicles thronging the streets, Leonard made the best of his way to Whitehall, where he speedily arrived. A large body of mounted troopers were stationed before the gates of the palace, and a regiment of the foot-guards were drawn up in the court. Drums were beating to arms, and other martial sounds were heard, showing the alarm that was felt. Leonard was stopped at the gate by a sentinel, and refused admittance; and he would in all probability have been turned back, if at that moment the Lords Argentine and Rochester had not come up. On seeing him, the former frowned, and passed quickly on, but the latter halted.
"You seem to be in some difficulty," remarked Rochester. "Can I help you?"
Leonard was about to turn away, but he checked himself.
"I will not suffer my resentful feelings to operate injuriously to others," he muttered. "I desire to see the king, my lord," he added, to the earl. "I have a proposal to make to him, which I think would be a means of checking the conflagration."
"Say you so?" cried Rochester. "Come along, then. Heaven grant your plan may prove successful; in which case, I promise you, you shall be nobly rewarded."
"I seek no reward, my lord," replied Leonard. "All I desire is to save the city."
"Well, well," rejoined Rochester, "it will be time enough to refuse his majesty's bounty when offered."
Upon this, he ordered the sentinel to withdraw, and Leonard followed him into the palace. They found the entrance-hall filled with groups of officers and attendants, all conversing together, it was evident from their looks and manner, on the one engrossing topic—the conflagration. Ascending a magnificent staircase, and traversing part of a grand gallery, they entered an ante-room, in which a number of courtiers and pages—amongst the latter of whom was Chiffinch—were assembled. At the door of the inner chamber stood a couple of ushers, and as the earl approached, it was instantly thrown open. As Leonard, however, who followed close behind his leader, passed Chiffinch, the latter caught hold of his arm and detained him. Hearing the movement, Rochester turned, and said quickly to the page, "Let him pass, he is going with me."
"Old Rowley is in no humour for a jest to-day, my lord," replied Chiffinch, familiarly. "He is more serious than I have ever before seen him, and takes this terrible fire sadly to heart, as well he may. Mr. Secretary Pepys, of the Admiralty, is with him, and is detailing all particulars of the calamity to him, I believe."
"It is in reference to the fire that I have brought this young man with me," returned the earl. "Let him pass, I say. State your plan boldly," he added, as they entered the audience-chamber.
At the further end of the long apartment, on a chair of state, and beneath a canopy, sat Charles. He was evidently much disturbed, and looked eagerly at the new-comers, especially at Leonard, expecting to find him the bearer of some important intelligence. On the right of the king, and near an open window, which, looking towards the river, commanded a view of the fire on the bridge, as well as of part of the burning city, stood the Duke of York. The duke did not appear much concerned at the calamity, but was laughing with Lord Argentine, who stood close beside him. The smile fled from the lips of the latter as he beheld Leonard, and he looked angrily at Rochester, who did not, however, appear to notice his displeasure. On the left of the royal chair was Mr. Pepys, engaged, as Chiffinch had intimated, in detailing to the king the progress of the conflagration; and next to the secretary stood the Earl of Craven,—a handsome, commanding, and martial-looking personage, though somewhat stricken in years. Three other noblemen— namely, the Lords Hollis, Arlington, and Ashley—were likewise present.
"Who have you with you, Rochester?" demanded Charles, as the earl and his companion approached him.
"A young man, my liege, who desires to make known to you a plan for checking this conflagration," replied the earl.
"Ah!" exclaimed the king; "let him accomplish that for us, and he shall ask what he will in return."
"I ventured to promise him as much," observed Rochester.
"Mine is a very simple and a very obvious plan, sire," said Leonard; "but I will engage, on the peril of my life, if you will give me sufficient authority, and means to work withal, to stop the further progress of this fire."
"In what way?" asked Charles, impatiently;—"in what way?"
"By demolishing the houses around the conflagration with gunpowder, so as to form a wide gap between those left and the flames," replied Leonard.
"A short and summary process, truly," replied the king; "but it would occasion great waste of property, and might be attended with other serious consequences."
"Not half so much property will be destroyed as if the slower and seemingly safer course of pulling down the houses is pursued," rejoined Leonard. "That experiment has been tried and failed."
"I am of the young man's opinion," observed the Earl of Craven.
"And I," added Pepys. "Better lose half the city than the whole. As it is, your majesty is not safe in your palace."
"Why, you do not think it can reach Whitehall?" cried the king, rising, and walking to the window. "How say you, brother," he added, to the Duke of York—"shall we act upon this young man's suggestion, and order the wholesale demolition of the houses which he recommends?"
"I would not advise your majesty to do so—at least, not without consideration," answered the duke. "This is a terrible fire, no doubt; but the danger may be greatly exaggerated, and if any ill consequences should result from the proposed scheme, the blame will be entirely laid upon your majesty."
"I care not for that," replied the king, "provided I feel assured it is for the best."
"The plan would do incalculably more mischief than the fire itself," observed Lord Argentine, "and would be met by the most determined opposition on the part of the owners of the habitations condemned to destruction. Whole streets will have to be blown up, and your majesty will easily comprehend the confusion and damage that will ensue."
"Lord Argentine has expressed my sentiments exactly," said the Duke of York.
"There is nothing for it, then, but for your majesty to call for a fiddle, and amuse yourself, like Nero, while your city is burning," remarked Rochester, sarcastically.
"Another such jest, my lord," rejoined the king, sternly, "and it shall cost you your liberty. I will go upon the river instantly, and view the fire myself, and then decide what course shall be adopted."
"There are rumours that incendiaries are abroad, your majesty," remarked Argentine, glancing maliciously at Leonard—"it is not unlikely that he who lighted the fire should know how to extinguish it."
"His lordship says truly," rejoined Leonard. "There are incendiaries abroad, and the chief of them was taken by my hand, and lodged in Newgate, where he lies for examination."
"Ah!" exclaimed the king, eagerly; "did you catch the miscreant in the fact?"
"No, my liege," replied Leonard; "but he came to me a few hours before the outbreak of the fire, intimating that he was in possession of a plot against the city—a design so monstrous, that your majesty would give any reward to the discloser of it. He proposed to reveal this plot to me on certain terms."
"And you accepted them?" cried the king.
"No, my liege," replied Leonard; "I refused them, and would have secured him, but he escaped me at that time. I afterwards discovered him among the spectators near the fire, and caused his arrest."
"And who is this villain?" cried the king.
"I must refer your majesty to Lord Argentine," replied Leonard.
"Do you know anything of the transaction, my lord?" said Charles, appealing to him.
"Not I, your majesty," said Argentine, vainly endeavouring to conceal his anger and confusion. "The knave has spoken falsely."
"He shall rue it, if he has done so," rejoined the monarch. "What has the man you speak of to do with Lord Argentine?" he added to Leonard.
"He is his father," was the reply.
Charles looked at Lord Argentine, and became convinced from the altered expression of his countenance that the truth had been spoken. He, therefore, arose, and motioning him to follow him, led him into the recess of a window, where they remained in conversation for some minutes. While this was passing, the Earl of Rochester observed, in an undertone to Leonard, "You have made a mortal foe of Lord Argentine, but I will protect you."
"I require no other protection than I can afford myself, my lord," rejoined Leonard, coldly.
Shortly after this, Charles stepped forward with a graver aspect than before, and said, "Before proceeding to view this conflagration, I must give some directions in reference to it. To you, my Lord Craven, whose intrepidity I well know, I intrust the most important post. You will station yourself at the east of the conflagration, and if you find it making its way to the Tower, as I hear is the case, check it at all hazards. The old fortress must be preserved at any risk. But do not resort to gunpowder unless you receive an order from me accompanied by my signet-ring. My Lords Hollis and Ashley, you will have the care of the north-west of the city. Station yourselves near Newgate Market. Rochester and Arlington, your posts will be at Saint Paul's. Watch over the august cathedral. I would not have it injured for half my kingdom. Brother," he added to the Duke of York, "you will accompany me in my barge—and you, Mr. Pepys. You, young man," to Leonard, "can follow in my train."
"Has your majesty no post for me?" asked Argentine.
"No," replied Charles, turning coldly from him.
"Had not your majesty better let him have the custody of your gaol of Newgate?" remarked Rochester, sarcastically; "he has an interest in its safe keeping."
Lord Argentine turned deadly pale, but he made no answer. Attended by the Duke of York and Mr. Pepys, and followed at a respectful distance by Leonard, the king then passed through the ante-room, and descending the grand staircase, traversed a variety of passages, until he reached the private stairs communicating with the river. At the foot lay the royal barge, in which he embarked with his train. Charles appeared greatly moved by the sight of the thousands of his houseless subjects, whom he encountered in his passage down the Thames, and whenever a feeble shout was raised for him, he returned it with a blessing. When nearly opposite Queenhithe, he commanded the rowers to pause. The conflagration had made formidable progress since Leonard' beheld it a few hours back, and had advanced, nearly as far as the Still-yard on the river-side, while it was burning upwards through thick ranks of houses, almost as far as Cannon-street. The roaring of the flames was louder than ever—and the crash of falling habitations, and the tumult and cries of the affrighted populace, yet more terrific.
Charles gazed at the appalling spectacle like one who could not believe his senses, and it was some time before the overwhelming truth could force itself upon him. Tears then started to his eyes, and, uttering an ejaculation of despair, he commanded the rowers to make instantly for the shore.
