Now the trained bands are up in arms, watching at every quarter for outlandishmen, because of the general fears and rumours that fire-balls were thrown into houses by several of them, to help on and provoke the too furious flames. Now goods are moved hastily from the lower parts of the city, and the body of the people begins to retire and draw upward. Yet some hopes were retained on the Sunday that the fire would be extinguished, especially by those who lived in remote parts; they could scarce imagine that the fire a mile off could reach their houses. All means to stop it proved ineffectual; the wind was so high, that flakes of fire and burning matter were carried across several streets, and spread the conflagration everywhere. But the evening draws on, and now the fire is more visible and dreadful; instead of the black curtains of the night which used to spread over the city, now the curtains are yellow; the smoke that arose from the burning part seemed like so much flame in the night, which being blown upon the other parts by the wind, the whole city, at some distance, seemed to be on fire. Now hopes begin to sink, and a general consternation seizeth upon the spirits of the people: little sleep is taken in London this night; some are at work to quench the fire, others endeavour to stop its course, by pulling down houses; but all to no purpose; if it be a little allayed, or put to a stand, in some places, it quickly recruits, and recovers its force: it leaps, and mounts, and makes the more furious onset, drives back all opposers, snatches the weapons out of their hands, seizes upon the water-houses and engines, and makes them unfit for service. Some are upon their knees in the night, pouring out tears before the Lord, interceding for poor London in the day of its calamity; yet none can prevail to reverse that doom, which is gone forth against the city, the fire hath received its commission, and all attempts to hinder it are in vain. Sunday night the fire had got as far as Garlick-hithe in Thames-street, and had crept up into Cannon-street, and levelled it with the ground, and still is making forward by the waterside, and upward to the brow of the hill on which the city was built. On Monday, Gracechurch-street is all in flames, with Lombard street on the left, and part of Fenchurch-street on the right, the fire working (though not so fast) against the wind that way: before it, were pleasant and stately houses; behind it, ruinous and desolate heaps. The burning then was in fashion of a bow; a dreadful bow it was! such as few eyes had ever seen before!