While the majority listened to him with fear and trembling, and regarded him as a prophet, a few took the opposite view of the question, and coupling his appearance with the sudden outbreak of the fire, were disposed to regard him as an incendiary.  They therefore cried out—­“He has set fire to our houses.  Down with him! down with him!”

Other voices joined in the outcry, and an attempt was made to carry the menace into effect; but a strong party rallied round the enthusiast, who derided the attempts of his opponents.  Planting himself on the steps of Saint Margaret’s Church, he continued to pour forth exhortations to the crowd, until he was driven into the interior of the pile by the fast-approaching flames.  The whole body of the church was filled with poor wretches who had sought refuge within it, having brought with them such of their goods as they were able to carry off.  But it soon became evident that the sacred structure would be destroyed, and their screams and cries on quitting it were truly heartrending.  Solomon Eagle was the last to go forth, and he delayed his departure till the flames burst through the windows.  Another great storehouse of oil, tar, cordage, hemp, flax, and other highly inflammable articles, adjoining the church, had caught fire, and the flames speedily reached the sacred fabric.  The glass within the windows was shivered; the stone bars split asunder; and the seats and other woodwork withinside catching fire, the flames ascended to the roof, and kindled its massive rafters.

Great efforts were now made to check the fire.  A few of the cumbrous and unmanageable engines of the day were brought to the spot, but no water could be obtained.  All the aqueducts, pipes, and sluices were dry, and the Thames water-tower was found to be out of order, and the pipes connected with it empty.  To add to the calamity, the tide was out, and it was not only difficult, but dangerous, to obtain water from the river.  The scanty supply served rather to increase than check the flames.  All sorts of rumours prevailed among the crowd.  It could no longer be doubted that the fire, which kept continually breaking out in fresh places, was the work of incendiaries, and it was now supposed that it must have been caused by the French or the Dutch, with both of which nations the country was then at war, and the most fearful anticipations that it was only the prelude of a sudden invasion were entertained.  Some conjectured it might be the work of the Papists; and it chancing that a professor of that religion was discovered among the mob, he was with difficulty rescued from their fury by the watch, and conveyed to Newgate.  Other persons, who were likewise suspected of being incendiaries, were conveyed with him.

This, though it satisfied the multitude, did not check the progress of the fire, nor put a stop to the terror and tumult that prevailed.  Every moment a fresh family were turned into the street, and by their cries added to the confusion.  The plunderers had formed themselves into bands, pillaging everything they could lay hands on—­carrying off boxes, goods, and coffers, breaking into cellars, broaching casks of spirits and ale, and emptying flasks of wine.  Hundreds of persons who did not join in the pillage made free with the contents of the cellars, and a large portion of the concourse was soon in a state of intoxication.